Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.
Author's Note: Inspired by a quote given for a challenge over at the Harry Potter Fanfiction Challenges forum. This is just a one-shot. I will not expand it.
Not Another Veela Story
"You're joining my forces?" Voldemort asked startled.
"Yup," Harry replied as if he had just stated that the noon day sky was blue on a sunny day.
"Why?" Voldemort asked, rather unbelieving.
"Draco," Harry stated in that same blue-sky tone.
"... You are joining because of him?" Voldemort asked, wondering if Harry needed to join the Longbottoms in the long term spell damage ward. Maybe he had taken one too many crucios to the head.
"Yup," Harry replied looking at his former foe oddly.
"You realize he is part of my forces?" Voldemort asked, exasperated.
"Yup," Harry repeated, wondering if his foe had perhaps spent one too many a year as a bodiless specter.
"Why?" Voldemort asked, wondering if he should even ask.
"Well, he's a veela and I'm his mate, so--" Harry said slowly.
"WHAT?!" Lucius shouted.
"He's a veela and I'm his mate, are you really that hard of hearing?" Harry said.
"I met, what is this about my son being a veela?" Lucius asked.
"Well, I know he's not really a veela. Male veela don't have mates, unless you are only pretending to have a son," Harry said. "Plus, male veela do not have a human like appearance and are always in their fire breathing bird form. When veela mate they do so in that form and produce a clutch of eggs. That is also why human-veela hybrids cannot transform, as the mother veela must retain human form, less she loses the child."
"Then what does Draco pretending to be a veela have to do with you wanting to join my forces?"
"I was going to get there until blondy senior interrupted. Draco simply won't take no for an answer. Even after I told him that I knew he was faking it. I was hoping that by joining your forces that you'd send me off to some remote corner of the globe until blondy senior gathers the balls to say no to his son for once."
"And why are you saying no to my son?" Lucius asked.
"Well, there's the fact that he's a whiny little brat that cries to his 'father' whenever he doesn't get his way, or simply humiliates himself again. Then there's the even bigger fact that, and listen well, I know you have hearing problems, I AM NOT GAY! I want my bedmates to have boobs, damnit, and legs that go on forever, and, most importantly, a vagina!"
"Won't Dumbledore protect his precious golden boy from the evil Death Eater?" Voldemort asked, now intrigued.
"No," Harry said, bitterly. He clearified with an imitation of the headmaster, "Harry, my boy, you can do a great thing for the light and pull a young soul away from the darkness. It's for the greater good. Lemon drop?"
Voldemort gave a chuckle, "Tell me more."
"I'd like to show him where he can shove that 'Greater Good' crap. Problem is, he'd probably like it. There's more than Fawkes flaming in that office, if you catch my drift."
"Indeed," Voldemort replied. "So, how does Egypt sound to you? I need some nundu breath."
"Sounds great, the ladies like a good tan," Harry said.
"Well, get your mark and portkey," Voldemort said, holding his wand in one hand and an old shoe in the other. "It's a hundred four in the shade."