It's Not Easy Being Veela.

Harry awoke on his sixteenth birthday just like every other mid-teen boy in the world—With a boner.

It was a hazard of the trade.

You get to pee standing up, but you also have to live with the ups and downs that come with it.

The boner was a regular thing. The fact that it wasn't going away was new.

He was in a bit of a pickle you see, he had to go downstairs to make breakfast, but there was no need for the world (or just the Dursleys really) to see the outline of his downstairs friend on his trousers.

He ran off to the bathroom to try and fix it.

Cold water did nothing but make him want to curl up and die. Cold is bad down there. Well, any non-gentle change down there is bad.

Harry tried to 'deal' with it as best he could in the time he had, but a knock on his door forced him to tuck it in and make the best of what would likely be an awkward breakfast.

Awkward didn't even begin to explain what that breakfast was.

While no one griped about his downstairs problem, they were all obviously aware. In fact, their awareness of the problem didn't even add to the awkwardness.

Nope, what made the meal awkward was the hungry looks shared amongst his relatives.

And they weren't even looking at the food.

They spent the entire meal just staring at him with a fervor Harry could never have imagined.

Needless to say, Harry finished his food as fast as possible before running up the stairs and locking the door.

He let out a massive sigh as he flopped onto his much-too-small bed.

The stiffy was still there and he let out a groan.

GO AWAY!

It took some time, but he made the thing go away. No detail on how, but one can assume that an outside observer could fill in the details using their imaginations if they so choose.

He stayed in his room all day fearing his relatives, but as dinner rolled around, and his stomach growled relentlessly, he realized he would have to brave his creepy relatives' presence.

At least he was without a boner.

In the coming days he became increasingly confused.

His relatives hated him, then they wanted him. It made no god-damned sense.

They were always nice to him at breakfast, but depending on when he interacted with him, they either treated him with contempt, or tried to cop a feelskie.

What the fuck?

Of course, as the weeks passed he noticed a startling correlation between how often he worked on his 'me' time and his relatives love/hate relationship with him.

It seemed, and this was purely conjecture on his part, that on days where he um… used up a fair bit of tissue in his room, his relatives hated him, but on days where he left himself alone – so to speak – his relatives wanted to have happy bum-sex time (not his words, but Vernon's).

It wasn't even just his relatives! He went out to the park one day and he practically had to run away screaming from all the groping passersby!

One person, a dude for that matter, even straight out offered to be a bottom if Harry would do him the honor.

It was at that point that he actually did run away screaming.

Not fun, not fun at all.

What was worse was that when he finally escaped the Dursley hell, Dumbledore himself picked him up!

Now, this would normally be an all-around good thing, but for some reason that 'twinkle' in the headmaster's eye had a certain… Lustful twinkliness.

As disturbing as the headmaster's presence was, it paled in comparison to Slughorn's. Horace really, really, liked Harry.

Harry didn't like to think about that, so he quickly moved on.

So here Harry sat in his empty dorm room. It had been a trying day.

In hindsight, it had been a bad idea to go on the train before relieving himself, but he had been in a hurry, and it took such a long time!

He let out a sigh. It hadn't been pleasant rubbing one out in a tiny train lavatory, but it needed to be done.

Harry wasn't sure he could take one more second of seeing Ron winking at him all the while mimicking a certain sexual act using a banana as a prop.

Hell, everyone around him was doing the same damn thing. It was driving him crazy.

At least he didn't have to watch Hermione doing what Ron did earlier, that would have been friendship ending.

Wait, that should be rephrased; it wouldn't be friendship ending because the image was hideous to picture—Like with Ron and the banana incident on the train.

On that note, there are some things in a friendship you can't come back from, and that's one of them.

He was pretty sure he never could look at Ron again without the gag reflex kicking in.

No, with Hermione it would be a, 'I can't look at you without getting a boner, and that's a bad thing at the moment' kind of thing.

Thank God for Hermione's constant need to abide by the rules.

Ron had felt the need to skip the prefect meeting, and now their friendship had taken the ultimate price.

Hermione went, and Harry didn't automatically picture a banana in her hand.

Harry shuttered at the image of Ron and the... Ehh..

He set his alarm extra early for the next day (a full hour before even the earliest risers got up), in order to deal with his consistently hard (to deal with) morning problem.

The days passed, and he was able to 'reign in' his curse. Every morning he had to deal with it, but it was becoming a non-issue.

Classes were good, and Harry was more than happy to take potions with the new Potions master.

Unfortunately, the man still leered at Harry every chance he could get, but at least he could manage a passing grade in the class with that awesome potions book.

Draco was up to something, but wasn't he always? Moving on.

In other news, Harry distanced himself from Ron right away. The ginger was his regular angry self about it, but Harry had a damn good reason to leave him alone. Harry couldn't even eat bananas anymore.

Damn you Ron!

Also with Ron, he was a little bit more than angry when he learned that he lost his keeper spot to McLaggen, but Harry's decision was final. Cormack was an idiot, but he was a monster at keeper. As good as, or even better than Oliver in his prime.

Also, harry could look at him without having a sudden urge to vomit.

He was an arrogant prick, but when Harry threatened kicking him off the team in favor of Ron, he straightened up and more importantly shut up.

Hermione was saddened by the whole business, but chose Harry's side. She was always Harry's friend before she was Ron's.

Things were going so well in fact, that he completely forgot to set his alarm one morning.

…That was the beginning of the end.

Harry awoke to an empty dorm room.

It took a moment for him to adjust to being awake, but something was different.

Where was everyone?

Harry slowly got out of bed and stretched his aching muscles.

Quiddich is hard work, and don't let anyone tell you differently!

On a hunch, Harry looked at his clock.

HOLY SHIT AND A HALF! He was already late for class!

He threw on whatever he could find, grabbed a few books for his class, and sprinted out the door.

The fact that he hadn't done his morning ritual completely slipped his mind.

The hallways were completely empty with class in session, so Harry made quick time.

He scolded himself on his carelessness, but was relieved that it was potions that he was late for.

Of any teacher in this school, Slughorn was the most likely to be lenient in his punishment.

He winded through many corridors and secret passageways before barreling through the classroom door. In his haste he wasn't careful with his footing and tripped landing just inside the door to his potions class.

Embarrassed by his clumsiness, be hopped back up to his feet and dusted himself off.

"Sorry Professor! My alarm never went off!"

No response Came. In fact, not a single person in class said a word.

They were all just staring at him—scratch that, they were staring at him, but not at his face.

All eyes in the room were staring at his crotch.

Harry was beyond embarrassed at this point and in a stroke of brilliance placed his potions book over his groin.

Collectively, the entire class moaned and groaned about that.

One brave soul even had the guts to admit his displeasure out loud. "Oh, c'mon Potter! Why did you hide such a masterpiece!"

Harry jerked his head in that direction and was shocked to find Draco Malfoy of all people licking his lips.

His next actions were instinctual. He grabbed his potions book and whapped Malfoy over the head with it on his way out the door.

Fuck that.

On his way down the hall he spotted a clock and saw that classes were about to end. Wait, that means that the hallways are going to be full!

He looked down and saw that Harry Jr. was still rearing to go.

A chill went down his spine.

A crowded hall while he was still… like, this?

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

He ran as fast as he could, but suddenly the halls started to fill up and every person in his general vicinity was slowly advancing upon him.

In a split second decision, he backtracked down the mostly clear hall he had just come from and ran as fast as he could; dumping his school supplies as he went. No added weight.

All those years of Harry hunting experience were about to pay off. Except, instead of a handful of overweight children he was being hunted by literally hundreds of mindless witches and wizards, all eager to pleasure him and themselves endlessly.

RUN! RUN! FASTER, FASTER, FASTER!

He made turn after turn in every hall. Left, right, right, straight, left. GO! GO!

Unfortunately, all things must come to an end, and Harry saw what was clearly a dead end.

A wall of giggling Hufflepuff girls were blocking his forward path, and behind him were dozens of the more fit and able witches and wizards that had been able to make chase.

Still running, his eyes darted back and forth, looking for an escape. Picking a door at random, he lowered his shoulder and knocked the thing down.

Inside was a relatively empty library.

Shit! He didn't know the library very well!

He kept running though, but was looking around too much and rammed into a person carrying a large stack of books.

Both of them toppled over and landed on the floor, their bodies intertwined.

Harry groaned, and the girl in his arms did the same.

"Did anyone get the license plate…?" He heard her mumble.

Wait, he knew that voice.

"Hermione! Shit! You're probably just like the rest of them!"

Harry started to disentangle himself from her embrace. He was back to his feet in a moment and was ready to run.

"Like the rest of who, Harry?" She replied while getting sitting up.

Harry's mind stopped. She wasn't affected. There were those unaffected by his pull?

The thought had never occurred to him. Could his pull work better on some people than others? Everyone seemed to want his… er, man parts.

Harry needed to test if she really was immune.

"Hermione, I know this might sound like it's coming out of left field, but do you want to give me a blowjob or something right now?"

To her, it sounded like he was practically pleading. "Well you fell; you must have hit your head or something." She said, as she punched him in the arm, "Or wait, is this one of those stupid virginity pact things that I read about? You trying to be the first? I'm not that kind of lady!"

Harry practically wept in joy. "Thank you!" He cried as he wrapped his arms around her. "Thank you, thank you, THANK YOU!"

Needless to say, Hermione was stunned. She had never imagined that a boy would ever thank her for turning down his sexual advances.

That just seemed ludicrous.

"Seriosuly Harry, did you hit your head? What's wrong with you?"

Behind him, Harry heard shouts and screams from his new fans.

Time to move.

He grabbed Hermione's hand and once again he was running for his life—or for his virtue at the very least.

Almost immediately, she started to protest. "Harry! What in the blazes do you think you're doing!"

Harry took them down another row of books and said quickly, "No time to explain, we have to go now!"

With all the things that seemed to happen around him over the years, she eventually learned to trust his judgment in these kinds of situations.

Hermione was quick to shut up and obey what was clearly an order.

Harry found an exit, and soon they were making their way down another hall. A few turns later found the two of them hidden behind a decretive tapestry in a quiet corridor.

Both of them needed to catch their breaths. Hermione more than Harry—not everyone was an athlete, after all.

After a minute of her constantly gasping for breath, Hermione finally said what was on her mind. "What is going on Harry! Who is following us?" She took in an exceptionally large breath. "Are there Death Eaters in the school?" She loudly whispered.

Harry sighed. How exactly to explain this? "There are no Death Eaters in the school." He scratched behind his head. "Well, aside Snape."

"Professor Snape." She chided.

Harry sighed again. Even in a life or death situation, she was defending the bastard.

"Be that as it may, this is not about Death Eaters, Voldemort, or the war in any way!" He said a tad too loud. "At least, I don't think so."

"Harry…" She said with a touch of exasperation.

"Right, anyways. Um, I don't know how to say this, so I just will." He took a big breath. "I think I'm a Veela. Or something…"

She sat staring at him for a moment before punching him in the chest.

That hurt!

"This is no time for jokes Harry! What's really going on?"

"Seriously! I think I'm a Veela! Everyone wants to have sex with me! Even Ron! That's why we're not friends anymore…"

Hermione let out a sigh. "There is no such thing as a male Veela, Harry."

"Why the hell not! There are female Veela! Why not the other way around?"

"Harry, you're not a male Veela. That's ridiculous."

"Why not!"

"Well for one, I'm not feeling an uncontrollable urge to bed you at the moment, so that must say something!"

"You're immune Hermione! That's why I asked you to um, you know, in the library. You're immune! THANK GOD!" He said the last part a bit too loudly, and he could hear the footsteps outside the tapestry stop. "Shit."

"Harry, this is ridiculous. This is probably the stupidest thing I have ever heard, and I have spent copious amounts of time with Ron Weasley these past few years. That has to count for something."

Just then, the tapestry was lifted and in poked the face of none other than Draco Malfoy. "Harry! Let me suck your cock! PLEASE!"

Once again, his instincts lead to Harry's next actions. He Kicked Malfoy in the head with all of his might.

In the years to come, Draco would need dozens of constructive surgeries to repair the damage done to his face. He never would look the same again.

Harry didn't notice or care what happened to his one-time rival, all he cared about was his safety.

He grabbed Hermione's hand, and once again, they were on the run.

"Believe me now?" He shouted at her.

"What the hell was that?"

"Everyone is like that! It's like their all zomb—"

"Don't say the Z word!"

"Why not!"

"THEY DON'T EXIST!"

"Well, neither do MALE VEELA, but what do I know!"

"There must be another explanation…"

"We need to fight back! We need to defend ourselves!"

"With what!"

"I don't know, our WANDS?"

"And kill them all! What's wrong with you!"

Harry decided not to suggest stunning charms, because that didn't work too well during their little battle in the ministry.

As he passed by a row of armor, Harry had an idea. He snagged a spiked mace from one of the armor sets and tossed it to Hermione, Harry then grabbed a sword from one of the others.

Harry took a few practice swings with his new weapon. "Kind of heavy…"

"A sword? How is that any different than using your wand?"

"I don't know!"

Their path was blocked by a pair of seventh year Slytherins

"Harry!"

"I'll take the one on the left; you take the one on the right!"

"What?" She screamed.

Harry gripped both hands on the blade while lifting it up in the air. As he got close, he quicklyswung it down at the man in his path.

For a moment, Harry thought that he hadn't swung it hard enough, but for some reason, at the moment of contact the blade met no resistance at all and went straight through; separating the man's head, neck, and right shoulder from the rest of his body.

What the fuck!

Harry kept running and looked behind him, he was stunned to find two bodies laying on the ground.

"You killed him Hermione?"

"I'm not some silly schoolgirl, this is war, and people die in wars!"

"This isn't war, these are a bunch of fan girls and boys!"

"Shut up, Harry! Do you want my help or not? Let me rationalize it however I like!"

Harry was more than a little impressed with his friend. "Good job. I'm a little confused with this sword though; it cut through that guy way too easy!"

"It's enchanted Harry, just like my mace. Yours has a cutting charm, while mine has a blasting charm."

"…Blasting charm?"

"If he was a muggle, they wouldn't have been able to do a dental check, and we'll leave it at that."

"Good idea."

The next day, Filch would eventually quit at the sight of the cleanup.

Over the course of the next hour, Harry and Hermione fought their way through multiple groups of zomb—fanboys and girls.

Each fight was messier than the next, but always it was in groups of one of two.

They luckily escaped all the big groups, that is, until now.

Surrounded on all sides.

Harry looked everywhere for an escape, but no paths to safety were forthcoming.

He was resigned to his fate, but she wasn't.

She grabbed his arm and pulled him in some random direction.

In the intervening minutes, Harry and Hermione put up a fight that would be spoken about for ages to come. Poems and stories would be written about their epic fight against dozens of the beasts. At least, it would be like that if they ever decided to tell anyone about it.

People seemed to forget what happened while under Harry's spell.

Anyways! Side by side, they paved a path in blood through those that lay in their way.

Finally, they made it through, and started running again, but this time they realized that there was no escape.

Dead end.

Behind them slowly crept the endless horde of enemies, and directly in front of them stood what was clearly a simple broom closet.

Hermione broke down in tears at the sight. Harry felt like doing the same, but in his heart, he was a true Gryffindor.

The beasts may eventually get him, but he wouldn't make it easy.

This time it was Harry grabbing her hand. He pulled her into the closet with him and he locked the door behind him with a spell.

He repeated the spell two more times just to make the door more difficult to open, and embraced the woman by his side.

"I'm so sorry I pulled you into this Hermione."

Her tears suddenly stopped. She hit him on the chest. Once again. She was doing that quite a bit lately…

"No, don't be sorry. I would have hated myself if I has left you alone with this." She hugged him closer. "Don't you dare blame yourself for this; there's no way in hell you could have seen this coming."

Harry had a sudden thought and let her go; he turned to face the door. She was reluctant to let him go him herself, and instead wrapped her arms around him from behind.

"I could go out there and face them myself."

"And what, let me hate myself the rest of my life? Let me watch as my best friend is brutally… Murdered? Wait, do they actually want you dead, or do they just want your arse?"

Harry actually laughed. "Language Hermione, Language." He wiped the sweat from his brow. "But it's a good question. Maybe I should find out."

"No." She hugged him harder, then all of a sudden the monsters outside started banging on the door.

It was such a shock for her that she let her hands go and dropped them all the while letting gravity takes its course.

Her hands grazed Harry's erect member.

For a moment all the crazy shit from the day evaporated and all Hermione could think about was what her hands had just touched.

Wait, what?

"Harry. Why the hell would you have an erection at a time like this?"

Harry, shocked to be found out in such an obvious matter, turned around to face her. "What! I don't have an… erection…"

Harry looked down.

Hermione looked down.

"Was it from all the fighting? I hear that can happen sometimes during an um, fight. Blood-lust or whatever."

"No I um… It's been like that since this morning. I woke up with it, and I didn't have time to make it go away…" Harry, despite the absurdity of the situation at hand, blushed. "Wait, that's it!"

"Harry, it's perfectly normal for this to happen to a boy your age. It's noting to be ashamed of…"

"Not that! This whole Veela thing! They only go after me when I'm hard as a rock! I just need to—um, Hermione, I know this will probably come out of left field once again, and it will probably make me sound like a freak, but um. You think you could give me a blowjob?"

Hermione stared. She stared some more.

"Hermione?"

"Have you hit your head? Seriously, have you fallen and hit your head? What kind of stupid question is that at a time like this?"

"Well I suppose I could rub one off or something, but I don't know how much time we have left!"

"You have got to be kidding me."

"Seriously! If you don't give me a blowjob right now we're both going to die!"

"Fine! But just so you know, I'm not happy about this!"

She dropped to her knees mumbling something about always having to do everything.

Over the next week it became public knowledge that Harry and Hermione were a couple. It also became public knowledge that there was a serial killer on the loose at the school because there were dozens of dismembered and exploded corpses littering the halls.

No one ever accused the wizards of being the brightest of people.

Filch quit.

Draco had himself pulled from school to begin the first of many reconstructive surgeries.

Harry was happy with how things turned out.

He looked down to see his wonderful girlfriend doing something that she was somehow extremely skilled at. Who would have figured that she was as good at this as she was at everything else?

It's always the quiet ones…

"Seriously! How can you possibly be good at everything!" He shouted.

Hermione gently stopped what she was doing with her mouth and fitted herself with a giant smile.

"When I was a little kid, I loved ice cream. Amongst everyone in my family, I always finished first. My dad said I licked it far too fast, and that I sucked much too hard. My mom said that my boyfriend would appreciate that. I guess she was right."

She got back to her daily early morning ritual.

AN: HA! Not the male Veela fic you were expecting, right? I don't know how I did it, but I managed to turn a Veela!Harry fic into a zombie apocalypse.

I rule.

I honestly don't know where this came from, but it's four in the morning (I work nights BTW, and this is my day, err night off) and this just sort of popped up.

It basically wrote itself. In fact, I didn't even have a clue where I was going with this until I was finished.

Fun, fun, fun.

This is basically the insane ramblings of a mad man who is doing so (rambling that is) with a sleep deprived mind. Hopefully it's as funny and/or awesome as I think it is.

-Lineape

P.S. This is crazy, but I just realized that this is my longest chapter ever. That's messed up. Also, unbetaed.