"Why the bloody hell did you refrain from telling me this important information?" I yelled in the drawing room of Malfoy Manor. Judging by my parents' slight winces, it was too early in the morning for such loud noises.

"Oh, really, Draco, this is quite ridiculous. We've warned you years ago to avoid this reaction," Mother told me in her regal tone, eyeing one of the upturned tables that was a victim of my rampage. "There's no point getting your knickers in a twist now."

"As if! You never told me anything!" I accused, staring them both defiantly in the eye.

"I remember the day we told you, very well, actually. You were ten years old and felt pretty excited at the thought of it. We told you everything - in this very room. You promised that you'd remember. Draco, honestly, how could you forget something so important?" she sighed.

Oh right...I remembered that now...But you had to admit, some of the Veela traits were pretty amazing, especially from a ten-year-old's point of view. Moreover, they should have known that you shouldn't tell a ten-year-old boy the cool things first, before the downside of being part Veela.

"I was ten! That was seven years ago! How could I possibly remember something that happened seven years ago?" I yelled in frustration. Surprisingly, Father hadn't said anything yet, but I was sure that that would soon change. He'd most definitely have something to say in this matter.

"Are you saying that you don't remember anything? I have to go through this again?" Father asked incredulously. At my blank face, he added in a disdainful tone, "Better hope you remember this time, Draco, or we'd better all pray to Merlin that your children will be able to survive without the proper knowledge."

"How do you know that my children will have the gene for sure?" I challenged him, if only to reassure myself that I'd only need to remember the information for myself and then, once I no longer needed it, I could forget it, or at least just to make him have doubts.

I slunk into a forest green armchair as my father stood up from his own, which was on the opposite side of the room, and stalked towards me. I refused to look my Father in the eye. Instead, I impatiently ran my hand through my light blonde hair, groaning once again in frustration at my predicament.

"It has not skipped a generation since the Malfoy family began thousands of years ago," Father lectured me. I huffed in annoyance, hating how I now had to pay attention for real this time, because of the future Malfoy heirs.

"Get on with the details about my predicament, then," I said impatiently.

The quicker I got the outline of what it meant, the quicker I could go wallow in self-pity.

"When you became of age, you came into some inheritance. Not the sort of inheritance that you had been so quick to assume seven years ago," Father drawled with an amused smirk.

I just rolled my eyes. I was young! Sue me!

"Yes, yes, enough of that. Tell me the important things." I waved my hand in a motion to hurry on.

"Enough of your rudeness! I'll let it slide for now, but when you come back during the holidays, I expect more respect. You're just a little irritable because you haven't found your mate yet, but hopefully she's at Hogwarts and you'll soon be fine again," he reprimanded me.

I rolled my eyes again and let out another quiet huff of annoyance. This was going too slowly for my liking, not because I haven't found my whatever.

"Now, where was I? Ah, yes. Your grandfather was half-Veela, but your grandmother was a full Veela. That makes me more or less full. Your mother, who is my mate, doesn't have any Veela, which makes you half. Understand?"

I nodded absentmindedly.

"Veela are very complicated and beautiful creatures, with most of the population being female, but we, of course, have our fair share of males. The males are able to grow wings; it is a common trait for Veelas to have, but not all know how to make them appear or disappear when they want. It is a difficult thing to master – even I haven't been able to do it. When we are especially angry, Veela have a tendency to shoot balls of fire from their hands; this is a very rare trait, though, and you'd be either lucky or unlucky to acquire the skill. Our eyesight, hearing and touch are much more enhanced than normal wizards', as an almost animalistic instinct to be able to keep us alive, but we also use it to find our mate."

Curiosity had me raise my head to have my crystal grey eyes meet my father's similar coloured eyes. "You keep mentioning having a mate. I don't get it; what's so special about it?" I honestly asked.

"That's the most important part: every Veela has a mate. On the day we are born, somewhere written in the stars, is someone who we are destined to be with forever. Veelas must win over our mate, any way that we can. Which I suppose is good for you, especially if your mate is practically unattainable, then you can put some of your Slytherin traits and natural charming skills to use."

"Divination is used to determine who I'm supposed to be with for the rest of my life? Divination is almost always wrong," I stated.

"Not when it comes to Veela and the prediction of a mate. It's so clearly written you'd have to be blind to read it wrong," Father corrected.

"Well, do you know who it is, then?"I asked curiously.

"No. I find that Seers tend to give cryptic answers and so have not pursued the matter. It doesn't matter, anyway; it'll make it just a bit more challenging on your part."

"Well, what is the catch to this whole Veela-mate thing?" From my many years of living, I'd come to realise that with every good thing that happens, there has to be a catch.

"The catch is that you have a limited amount of time to claim your mate as yours before you die. You have until your next birthday, which is in exactly a year from now, so looking at it, your odds are favourable. Of course, there is a catch to that catch, too. Let's just hope that your mate doesn't loathe your very being..."

A couple of thoughts of girls sprang to mind. Loads of them hated me, but then again, even more adored my very being. It could be any one of the two groups... "What-What if they do hate me?" I asked, concerned for my wellbeing. I certainly didn't like the idea of dying so soon.

"Well, Veelas get irritated and angry very quickly. If your mate infuriates you so much that you have no control over your mind, and you insult her… well, let's just say that every time you hurt her, emotionally or physically, a week is knocked off your claiming time. So, you must try-"

"To keep a level head at all times when talking to any female at school, in case it is one of them and thus not shortening my unusual life span. Perfect," I muttered sarcastically.

"Not only that, but if you claim her without her consent, then your bond will be ruined and as a result, you'll die from heartbreak."

My voice rose in dissatisfaction."But, what if she doesn't want me? What then? I'm just meant to accept my impending death?"

"Think of it this way, if she was head over heels for someone, or with someone that made her the happiest person and they loved each other lots and showed no hope of ever leaving the other, then you would have started your painfully slow death already. Your circumstances are hopeful."

"What if she doesn't go to Hogwarts? What then?"

My Father didn't hesitate after every question. It was as if he knew every answer like the back of his hand. "Well, we have already thought of that case, and so, we have decided to try introducing you to every pure-blooded girl that doesn't go to Hogwarts, until it's time for you to return for your last year."

"Great," My voice flat and emotionless. Sure, the pureblood girls were gorgeous, but they weren't usually intelligent. I'd be rather happy to die, if my mate was some airhead. "So, how will I know how long I have left? Surely there must be a way; you'd forget soon enough how long you've got."

"An intelligent question. On your chest, in the exact place your heart should be, are some numbers that are magically tattooed on your skin. Every day, the numbers will change, and when they do of their own accord, it'll feel slightly more painful than a pinprick. However, if you hurt her, resulting in an unnatural drop in your life span, the pain won't be as bearable. It will be like someone dragging a sharp blade deep in the skin around the old numbers and scraping the skin off and engraving the still tender flesh."

"And here I was hoping that I'd just get some sort of owl every day to tell me."

He ignored my sarcastic comment. "Oh, no. The pain is meant to condition your mind into never hurting her again."

"Life just doesn't get any easier, does it?"

"I wouldn't know. My life was so simple when I was your age. I already had Narcissa before I came into the inheritance, and I actually listened to my father when he first told me and didn't have to have the bombshell dropped on me again, unlike you." He sneered, probably revelling in my newfound pity and hopelessness, the arrogant bastard!

"Why do bad things happen to good people?" I muttered to myself in despair. Sulking once again, into the green lounge chair as my parents left the room.

Some people viewed being a Veela as a gift, but, obviously, they didn't know the whole story of being one. Otherwise, like me, they'd believe it to be a curse. I was a good person. Well, I thought so. I'd changed my ways. Sure, I'd still find myself being better than others because I was a pure-blood, and if my mate was less than a half-blood I'd be forced to consider death, but I'd let go of most prejudices. Like how I no longer believed that the Dark Lord was the best but, then again, seeing that Potter had finally vanquished him, I'd have to rethink my views of him considerably anyway. I just hoped that Fate had picked out a favourable mate or I was going to be stuck in this sour mood forever. Or worse, I could end up dead and forever alone.

Worst birthday ever...

A/N-First Veela story, how is it? Thanks to my good friend ParabataiNerds for beta-ing this for me! Check out their Clace drabble (TMI), it's lovely!