Disclaimers:  I do not own Harry Potter or any of its characters.  This story is purely for entertainment purposes only.  I am
making no money from this.

Notes:  Snape goes and tells Dumbledore the situation.  Draco has a talk with someone and takes the conversation badly.

Family Secrets

Part Three

Professor Snape quickly marched to Dumbledore’s office.  There was no time to waste.  He berated himself for falling into the
spell, but knew that there was no real fighting it.  He had no doubt that if he had remained in that room with the young blonde,
he would have been pounding Draco into the mattress by this time.

Snape shuddered at the thought of doing that.  Draco had been like a favorite son to him, and he was not about to take
advantage of him when he most definitely wasn’t thinking clearly.  It would just be wrong.  Plus Draco was a student, much
too young for him.  He was only sixteen.  Snape couldn’t let himself fall prey to the blonde’s charms again.

He knocked twice on Professor Dumbledore’s door and entered when bid.  He looked at the aged wizard with a grim face.  
“The time has come.”

Professor Dumbledore sighed sadly, “Poor boy . . . his father had hoped . . . ah, well.  I’ll make the necessary arrangements.  
Where is the boy now?”

Snape let out a long breath.  “He’s in my chambers.”

The old headmaster frowned.  “Is that WISE, Serverus?  It could be dangerous to . . .”

Snape shook his head.  “I’ve locked him in there and took his wand.”  He said, stepping forward and dropping the key on
Dumbledore’s desk.  “And I’m giving you the key.  I am not as immune to the effects as I would like to be.”

“There was an incident?”  Dumbledore asked.

“Yes . . . I should have foreseen it.  It’s my own fault.”  Professor Snape sighed.  “He reacted to being in my bedchamber . . .
quite strongly.  And I briefly lost control over myself.”

“Serverus . . . you should have just brought him to me.  I am well past my prime, which makes me immune.  However, since
you have succeeded in getting him away from the population of the school, I thank you.  In this time, the further he is from
other males, the better.”  The elder wizard said.  “At least for now it is.  I’ll contact you when he arrives.”

Snape nodded, knowing full well who ‘he’ was.  He regretted that it was necessary to call him, but there was no choice now.  
Draco was showing undeniable symptoms.  There was nothing else to be done.  With a sigh, Snape turned and left the
Headmaster’s office, hoping for the best, if only for Draco’s sake.


Draco finally gave up on trying to force the door open.  He sighed, sinking to the floor, his shoulder aching.  That had been a
completely foolish idea.  He knew that he would not be trying that again any time soon.

He leaned over, picking up the items that he had dropped earlier, his hands trembling as he set them all to the side.  He was still
feeling those rampant desires, still wanted to touch and be touched by someone . . . anyone, as long as the person was a male.

Slowly, he rose to his feet.  He didn’t really know what he was doing, following some deep seeded emotion, an urge that
incessantly tugged at his insides and drew him further into the bedroom.  Everything in this room reminded Draco that it was
Snape’s bedroom . . . from the worn old books, the beakers and vials . . . as well as things that Draco never thought would
remind him of the dark professor, like the single potted plant that sat on his desk.

Draco’s heart throbbed dully in his ears, his breath hitching as he ran a shaking hand over the bed sheets of Snape’s bed.  He
shuddered, his body tingling as a wash of scents and feelings hit him.  Snape’s bedroom . . . Snape’s bed.  He found himself
crawling onto the comfortable bed, not really knowing why he felt so strongly.  The man wasn’t even here and he was reacting
. . . he buried his face in Snape’s pillow, deeply inhaling the scent of the other man.

He slowly rolled over, releasing his hold on the pillow.  He arched his back, delightful sensations coursing through his body.  
Draco could almost feel the presence of hands touching him, the feel of fingers seeking out all of his most sensitive places.  Of
course it was all in his imagination, but it still made him grow hard in reaction to the feelings.

Slowly, Draco slid his hands down along his body, breaking out in a light covering of sweat as he undid the belt around his
waist.  He popped the button on his trousers, easily reaching his hand down into his shorts.  This room was doing too much to
him, the sights, the scents, just being here was almost overwhelming.  He gasped as a shock of pleasure shot up his spine with
the first stroke of his hand over his already throbbing cock.

Draco panted, thrashing his head back and forth as he pleasured himself, wishing that it was another doing this.  He ached for
another man’s touch, wanted to spread his legs and be taken roughly, or to plunge deep into another’s body.  He didn’t care
about positioning, just as long as he got laid . . . and soon.  He wanted to have sex, two bodies writhing together and seeking
pleasure with one another.  That was all he wanted, nothing more, nothing less.

He moaned, hastening his pace with his hand.  His hips rolled lightly, pushing his hard length into his pumping fist . . . seeking
the delicious friction that his actions created.  With one more stroke, Draco stilled, releasing himself into his boxers.  Draco bit
into his bottom lip, silencing any cry he might have made.

Shivering, Draco removed his hand from his pants, looking down at the mess he had made of himself with wide eyes.  Good
Merlin, what had he just done?  He couldn’t believe this.  He had jacked off in a teacher’s room?  What the hell was wrong
with him?

He wiped his hand off on his pants, having nowhere else to clean the evidence off.  Then he pushed himself up and scrambled
off of the bed, as if it had caused this reaction in him.  He trembled, backing away from the comfortable bed, not believing that
he had allowed himself to do this as he backed into the nearest corner.  With a stifled sob, Draco slid down to the floor, curling
his arms around his knees as he buried his face, crying softly as he wondered what was wrong with him.

It was hours later when he raised his head, although he couldn’t be sure of how long it had been since he had first taken his
place in the corner.  He heard something from outside the bedroom door and wondered what it could possibly be.  Had
Professor Snape come to let him out?  He blinked, wiping a hand over his bleary eyes, as the door was unlocked and opened.

Draco’s shock doubled as his father, Lucius Malfoy, strode into the room, a look of worry present on his pale face.  “F-
Father?”  Draco asked, disbelieving his eyes.  Rarely had he ever seen his father look so worried.  Lucius was beside his son in
three strides.  He dropped to his knees before Draco and then Draco was pulled into the first embrace he had ever received
from his father.

Lucius released his embrace of Draco after a moment.  “Oh, my poor son!  I had hoped that fate would spare you from this.”  
He looked Draco up and down, frowning when his eyes caught sight of Draco’s disheveled state of dress.  “Are you all right?  
You haven’t injured yourself, have you?”

Draco blinked, at a loss.  He felt confused.  Still, he fixed his clothing, closing his trousers and pulling his robes around himself,
trying to hide himself from his father’s eyes.  “Father?  What do you mean?  Do you know what’s happening to me?”

Lucius nodded.  “Yes . . . yes, I do.  Unfortunately.”  He sighed deeply.  “I had hoped that the blood was thin enough . . . no
matter now.”  He forced a smile, lightly running his hand over Draco’s hair.

Draco’s fear was only heightened by his father’s odd words and actions.  “Father?  What are you talking about?  You aren’t
making any sense.”  He grasped his father’s wrist, gazing pleadingly into his father’s grey eyes.  “What’s wrong with me?”

The elder Malfoy closed his eyes for a brief moment.  When he opened them again, he spoke, his words soft and guarded.  
“There is nothing ‘wrong’ with you, my son.  It is a matter of blood, of breeding . . . your heritage.”  He paused, apparently
trying to think of a way to say what he had to say.  “You are not fully human, Draco.  As much as I have dictated that wizards
should be pureblooded, we have been living a lie.  Our family holds a secret, the Malfoy bloodline isn’t so pure as we would
have others believe.”

“What?”  Draco gasped, his eyes narrowing.  “You can’t be serious.  All my life you’ve drilled into me that we are superior to
every Mudblood . . . that we are the best of the pureblood wizarding families!  And now you tell me that I’m not?!”  He was
livid . . . he had been lied to, his entire life had been based on a falsity.  He didn’t want to believe this.  He shook his head,
denying his father’s words.

Lucius set his hands on either side of Draco’s head, forcing him to meet his father’s gaze.  “I know this is difficult for you, but
it is the truth.  Neither of us are pureblooded.”

“Then what are we?”  Draco asked, trying to stop his trembling.  But the feelings remained from earlier, the fact that he was
still in Snape’s bedroom affecting him.  He was thankful for the fact that he didn’t see his father as a likely candidate for sex,
that would have been quite distressing if he had even considered it.

“My mother . . . your grandmother . . .”  Lucius sighed, apparently having difficulty.  “She was a Veela.”

“I’m . . . I’m part Veela?”  Draco asked, the entire situation seeming farfetched to him . . . and yet it made perfect sense.  How
else could he explain his abnormal urges?

Lucius nodded.  “And what you’re feeling is a direct result of it being mating season.”  He cheeks darkened to a shade of
crimson.  “In short . . . you’re in heat.”

Draco’s mouth dropped open, his eyes going wide.  “In . . . heat?  I CAN’T be in heat!  I’m a BOY!”

“Gender doesn’t matter at this time of year, Draco.”  Lucius sighed.  “You have no choice in this matter, either.  Your urges
will become like a fever.  Soon . . . you will either harm yourself or harm a classmate in your need to . . . procreate.”

Draco swallowed nervously, knowing that his trembling had worsened due to hearing this shocking news.  “You mean . . . I
have to have sex with someone?”

Lucius nodded.  “Yes.  And soon.  You have a week . . . at most . . . before your urges start driving you mad.”  He sighed yet
again.  “And I assume there is no need for me to inform you that you must seek out another male for this . . . I'm sure you’ve
already noticed that is where the urges are leading you, into the arms of a fellow young man.”

Draco nodded, biting into his bottom lip.  He didn’t want to tell his father that he had fantasized about Professor Snape.  “Will I
have to go through this every year?”

“No.  This is your first heat, what will bring you into adulthood.  After this, you will have the abilities of a Veela, at least
partially . . . I do not know how much you will be able to do since you are only a quarter Veela.  Next year, and the following
years, you can take a potion that will suppress the urge to mate.  I have been doing this for many years now, and it does
work.  It’s only because the first heat is so important that I cannot help you.  To interfere now could only cause you harm.”

Draco glared at his father, pushing the older man away from him.  “And lying to me DIDN’T cause me harm?  Father . . . you
could have WARNED me that this might happen!  Do you have any idea how I’ve been feeling these past several days?  You
had the knowledge of what Grandmother was, of what you are.  I had no such comfort of thinking that this sort of thing is
NATURAL!  Had I known, I would have probably found someone to actually be attracted to and started a relationship with
instead of being forced into this!  But you didn’t think of that, did you?  I’ve behaved like an ass to everyone in this whole
school!  Do you know how humiliated I’ll be when the school LEARNS of this?”  He was pacing now, not caring in the least
that he was ranting, speaking too loud or fast to allow his father to get a word in edgewise.  “All the people I’ve tormented will
jump on this opportunity to make fun of me.  I'll be the laughing stock of the school!  You give me a week at MOST!  How am
I going to find someone in a WEEK?  At least someone that won’t make me sick when I wake up the morning after?”

Lucius accepted his son’s ranting calmly.  He rose to his feet and grabbed Draco’s shoulders, stilling the youth’s pacing.  
“There is more.”

Draco froze, his blood going cold at those words.  “More?  What more can there be?”

Lucius sighed once more.  “All those of Veela descent have the capability of bearing young during mating season, Draco.  Be
careful when you do mate.  Make sure that you are not on the receiving end.  I highly doubt that you wish to be burdened with
a bastard child.”

Draco snarled, pushing his father’s arms away as he resumed his pacing.  “You mean that YOU have no wish to bear the
burden of a scandal that a child conceived out of wedlock would bring the family.”  He kept pacing.  “So . . . since you say
that I will be drawn to a man . . . that means that YOU were drawn to one as well.”

Lucius sighed.  “I was, when I was sixteen.”  He nodded slightly.

Draco sneered, eyeing his father with thinly veiled anger.  “So . . . Father . . . who did you whore yourself to?  Since you
married Mother, I assume it was just a one-night stand.”

At the sound of a throat being cleared, Draco turned.  “That would be me.”  Professor Snape said from the open doorway.

Draco turned, giving his father an incredulous glare.  He could not believe this.  “You shagged my teacher?!”  He smirked then,
casting a glance at Snape before looking to his father again.  “I never knew that Professor Snape had such bad taste in one-
night stands.”  Draco never even saw his father move, but he heard and felt as his father struck him.

Professor Snape frowned.  “There was no need to strike the boy, Lucius!”

“He should have more respect!”  Lucius glared at Draco.  “You’re upset, I’ll grant you that.  But I am still your father!”

Draco raised a trembling hand to his cheek.  The sting of his father’s hand brought tears to his eyes, and he glared right back at
the man before him.  “Not anymore.”  He whispered, his tone seething and full of hurt.  “You’re not my father.”

Lucius reached out to grab his son, but Draco didn’t wait around to be caught.  He turned and ran from the room, pushing past
Professor Snape.  He couldn’t stay in that room, not with his father, not anymore.  He had to figure things out, to think, to
decide what to do.  Who was he going to choose as his first time?


Lucius turned and ran to the door, wanting to go after his son.  However, before he could leave, Serverus clamped a hand
down on his shoulder, stilling him.  “Don’t.”  Serverus said, his dark eyes staring hard at him.  “The boy needs time alone.”

Lucius sighed deeply, hanging his head.  He leaned back against a wall, wiping his hand over his face.  “He’ll deal with it, he
has to.”

“You should have told him about this before.”  Serverus said.

“I wanted to spare him.  I didn’t know he would go into heat.  I had hoped . . .”

Serverus interrupted him.  “It doesn’t matter what you thought.  This has to do with family.  He had a right to know about his
own heritage.”

Lucius glared at the dark-haired wizard.  “That’s right, this is a matter of family . . . my family, so stay out of it!”

Serverus glared right back at him.  He never had been one to sit back and allow himself to be yelled at.  “Yes, yell at me, that
will solve all of your problems.”  Serverus said, his tone one of sarcasm.  “You never think of anyone but yourself.  It’s always
you.  The consequence to others' lives is only a side issue to you.”

Lucius had had enough of this.  He wouldn’t listen to Serverus’s preaching any further.  He shoved his way past Serverus and
left the room, deciding that he had better look for his son and see if he could fix things with him.  Draco had to know that what
he had done was for the boy’s own good.  He hadn’t meant to hurt Draco.

To Be Continued . . .