Secret Of The Male Veela
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Discussion in ' Restricted Section ' started by ip82Dec 28, Q3 - - Competition Ending Soon! Many forums are only accessible if you have an. Why don't you register? Which two stories did you think were the best? ed: Nov 14, Messages: 2,


Rushing out the doors to the castle, he felt the weight of the world slip away from him, and he hurried to the lake, his eyes scanning it for the ethereal creature that had been able to see him through his cloak.

As he reached the Great Hall, he slowed briefly so that he could walk in and grab several slices of toast and drink down a gulp of pumpkin juice, giving Hermione just enough time to catch up to him. Slipping out of bed, he stilled as he listened to the sounds of his dorm mates breathing into the night, Ron snoring as he usually did.

They never spoke, and her many friends would sit around her, pointedly ignoring him. His heart pulled him toward the mystical creature, almost as if its soulful black eyes were calling for him, entreating him to wade into the lake and come towards it; it was almost as if the swan could actually see him through the cloak. It nudged his nose in affection and Harry sighed in relief. No one but the swan mattered to him, and he found himself walking through the day as if nothing but a wraith, silently completing his schoolwork and dreaming only of the cygnet.

Without even thinking about it, he rolled up his pant legs and stepped out into the freezing cold water. His features were aristocratic, his form tall and broad, and his hair was clipped neatly about his head. On that Tuesday, after dinner, he decided instead to go to the library to try and find anything about magical swans, but found nothing in the various creature books. I know that you call to my heart somehow," he admitted, not certain why.

He had always been entranced with the idea when he was younger, secretly hoping as that he was like The Ugly Duckling and would grow up to be beautiful and loved for what he was and not hated for being scrawny and a freak. Second in the Enchantment Series.

Veela and his mate

The swan wrapped its long neck across the back of Harry's head, nibbling softly on the ends of his hair, causing him to laugh slightly. Harry dropped his cloak on the stony shore, kicking of his slippers. The sound of wings flapping against the water turned his attention back to the waves, and he inhaled softly when he saw a magnificent swan swimming under the moonlight.

He smiled hesitantly and the bird swam closer to him, circling him as if to take in every angle of his form. The night Harry's name comes out of the Goblet, he goes down to the Black Lake where he sees a beautiful mute swan who, unknown to him, is a pure Veela in its natural form. The beautiful cygnet raised its head in greeting, a silent cry erupting from his lips, and Harry smiled as it gently swam toward him, waiting twenty feet from shore. After a week of not seeing the swan, Harry found himself walking the halls at night, the invisibility cloak drawn around Secret of the male veela.

When the dawn finally began to lighten the sky, he ran across the still lake and took off into the air, leaving Harry behind on earth. Warnings: Dub-con, Underage sexual relationships, Bestiality, Slight violence. The Durmstrang ship stood proud and strong upon the water, magically tethered to one place so it would not run ashore. The Beauxbatons student's head snapped toward him, and a gentle sigh met his ears.

Stepping out onto the grounds, he let the cloak fall from his shoulders, and made his way to the Lake where he heard water gently lapping upon the shore. A gentle puff in his air caused him to pull away, smiling down at the swan in his arms.

Summary: AU of fourth year. When Hagrid told him to follow him one night—the night he saw the dragons—he quickly ran back to the Black Lake, and not caring who saw and who was out, he plunged head first into the lake, swimming through the cool water until he came up near the swan, taking it into his arms and stroking its gray feathers. Still he could not move, and when the sun finally rose and the swan took flight, he found himself heartbroken as he returned to his warm bed.

As the moon gently set, he watched the beautiful bird continue to swim about the lake, occasionally diving to catch a fish as a snack.

What are you, my swan? Putting a hand on his arm, she caught his eye. Harry's hand faltered before resuming its movement, a small gasp erupting from his lips when the swan continued to bite his shoulder until finally it slipped back into the black waters.

Concerning veela

Harry knew he was being careless, that he should either hold the cloak close to him or just take it off, but he couldn't bring himself to in the ethereal darkness. Looking at him suspiciously the enchanting being stilled, its feet moving gently beneath the surface so that it could come closer to Harry.

Hesitating, he took the swan back into his arms, smiling as it flapped its wings gently, and buried his face in its feather, breathing in deeply. His first friend other than Hagrid. All of the lights aboard were off, showing that the students from the Northern school had all fast asleep. As Harry's invisible eyes held its unearthly gaze, he swallowed. He could feel everyone looking at him, whispering at him, but the only eyes he ever met were Aubrey's, the French student offering a soft smile to him before Harry looked away again.

It's a curse—the Potter family curse, of sorts. When he went down to breakfast he would always sit alone, Ginny occasionally smiling sadly at him or sitting beside him.

He didn't know what he felt—why he craved the swan's attention and beauty, why it called to him during the day and silently sang to him every night when the moon shone. She, however, wouldn't listen. As he walked toward the lake, he allowed the cloak to billow around him, hauntingly revealing snatches of his pajama bottoms or the slight movement of his arm. What does this mean? Harry found himself standing in the water, his body gently shivering, watching the swan swim around him and occasionally float off to find fish, the moon glinting off its enchanted feathers.

The swan's silver-gray plumage glinted in the moonlight and it moved beautifully through the cold water, it's neck stretched out and its eyes blinking up at the waxing crescent above them. Breathing deeply, Harry calmed himself.

Enregistrer un commentaire. Over the next few days, Harry found himself visiting the Black Lake when he was not in class, and each time found that the swan had not returned. As the sun would rise, the magical being would flap its wings against him, awakening him before it took off into the heavens, Harry sadly watching it as it left him until the next evening. In his peripheral vision, he saw a Beauxbatons student standing not far from him, his hair a pale silver blonde like his school's champion, his eyes a misty gray.

I'm not speaking to anyone really" —a flutter of wings— "except for you. Soon, Harry spent none of his nights in Gryffindor Tower, instead sneaking out to see the swan under the moonlight, until he fell asleep, wet and shivering on the lake shore, the swan draped over him tenderly to break him warmth, its black beak nuzzled into his hair. Why do I do everything now just for you? More beautiful than the French champion who thinks I'm nothing but a little boy," he whispered in wonder.

The struggles of a male veela (part 2 - selene morgenstern)

The swan, however, was absent, and the earth seemed suddenly empty as his heart cried out for the creature. He felt a yearning, a call almost, pulling him forward in the night, and his feet continued onward with little thought. His first friend his own age was now nothing to him. He felt like he was suffocating—no one believed him, not even Ron who was supposed to be his best mate.

In a single moment an entire friendship was ruined. You are 'Arry? Moist feathers brushed against his cheeks and Harry looked up, shocked, to see the swans brilliant beak only an inch from his face. The swan submerged itself completely under the waves before resurfacing, ruffling its feathers as the water slipped from its body.

There are dragons in the Forbidden Forest. He shivered as the water gently caressed his legs, a silent lover, and with a determined look, he walked out until he was only a few feet from the gorgeous creature. I've lost most of my friends, and everyone insults me, not that I'm not used to it, but—". Aurbrey smiled at him and Harry, strangely, found himself smiling back. A beautiful, magical creature. Dad had hair just like mine.

The student laughed, the tone deep but kind. Tearing the sheets from his restless body, he sat up in the darkness, his breathing heavy in anger and his hands shaking as they clutched at the shreds of reality.

Sighing, he grabbed his invisibility cloak from his trunk, and slipped out of the castle, delighting in the cold October air against his heated skin. Rustling about him, the wind moved through his cloak and the swan beat its wings against the still lake once again, turning its black glinting eyes toward him. As soon as Harry awoke the following noon, he quickly got dressed and ran down through the Common Room, uncaring that his former friends were whispering about him.

The bird flapped its wings against the waters, revealing the white underside of its plumage, and Harry laughed as he was splashed with cold lake water.

At night he dreamt of the swan, calling to him, singing to him in the pale moonlight. He looked at her, hurt, before turning away. When the swan calmed, Harry let his arms fall, submerging them to the wrists, a soft gasp escaping his lips. Every morning he would wake up cold, his blankets shoved from him, and his heart calling out to the nearly grown cygnet of the Black Lake. He had never seen a swan at Hogwarts before or in fact during his entire life.

He had to get out, away.

Is draco malfoy a veela

The cygnet flapped its wings, splashing Harry with water, and Harry quickly brought his arms up to shield his face. Harry could not sleep, the accusations of his best friend ringing through his mind and the nightmarish vision of his name coming out of the Goblet replaying in his thoughts. Not certain where to go, he made his way toward the Black Lake, the moonlight playing across the waves in the darkness.

Harry laughed softly at its antics before sitting down on the shore. He had never seen anything so beautiful, so enchanting, so magical than the swan in that moment. Tilting his head slightly to the left, he smiled softly when the swan mimicked his movements, the gray feathers of its neck glinting silver in the moonlight. The swan must be magical, he determined. The young swan beat its wings against the lake, creating ripples of movements, that drifted out upon the surface until they reached the shore near Harry's feat, the water lapping slightly onto the shore and onto his slippers—a gentle greeting.

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