"Bloody hell, Potter," Malfoy said eventually; "how powerful are you?"
"A lot more than I want to be," Harry replied with a sigh. He wanted this to be over. "Look can't you just go and shag someone, please? You must know the only way to get me off your back," that conjured mental images he didn't want, "figuratively," he added and tried to banish the thoughts, "is for you to die or go off with someone else."
Malfoy laughed at his discomfort but sobered quickly.
"And did it occur to you that me having sex with someone else might not be enough?" Malfoy asked in a reasonable tone. "Seraphim are much more to do with magical interaction than physical and me shagging someone might not fulfil the criteria."
Harry did not want to think about that, it was the only plan he had.
"It's the closest thing to a solution there is," he replied pointedly, "isn't it worth a try?"
For a while Malfoy looked at him with a pensive expression on his face and slowly, he shook his head.
"I can't," he admitted.
"You're in heat too," Harry concluded: Hermione had been right, "which probably has a lot to do with why we're in this mess."
"You're the one trying to get into my trousers," Malfoy pointed out as if he was insulted.
Harry opened his mouth to deny the claim and then shut it again as he realised that that was what this all boiled down to. It would be stupid to deny it.
"Look," he tried again, "Hermione speculated that you can't go near a girl because you'll end up getting her pregnant, but what about a boy?"
At that Malfoy gave a dismissive laugh.
"Granger will never cease to amaze me," he said and shook his head. "For your information, she's right, but it's more complicated than that and I would like to point out I'm only telling you this because otherwise undoubtedly Granger would dig it up anyway. A successful Veela mating can take up to four days. If I let myself go into full heat, I could end up pinning someone to a bed for ninety six hours, which would go down so well don't you think. If I chose a girl there is almost a one hundred percent likelihood that she'd come out the other side expecting my child, contraceptive charms or no contraceptive charms. If I choose a boy there is the delightful possibility of about five percent that my heritage will kick in at full strength, I will become a hermaphrodite and I'll end up pregnant myself. Now call me paranoid, but I'd rather not risk either."
"Shit," Harry said with venom.
They lapsed into silence again and he tried to find something in the tatters of his plan to help. It occurred to him that Malfoy was as at the mercy of his ancestry as he was; only he seemed to be handling it better.
"If you don't mind me asking," he said eventually, "if you're in heat how is it you haven't fixated on someone like I have?"
"Will power," came the snide reply.
Harry was not taking the inference that he had not will power lying down.
"I didn't know this was coming," he protested in his own defence, "no one told me I had magical creatures up the family tree. I was having enough trouble with the bloody wings; no one told me I'd suddenly start lusting over my worst enemy."
They glared at each other for a while and then Harry turned his eyes to the growing storm clouds. Arguing was not going to help.
"How long will you be in heat for?" he asked trying to get back on track.
"Probably another two to three months," Malfoy replied, "it's difficult to tell."
"And after that you can go and shag who the hell you like?" Harry wanted to be sure.
Malfoy raised an eyebrow at Harry's slightly desperate tone, but nodded.
"Then all we have to do is keep this under control until then," Harry decided. "Is there anything I should try and avoid at all costs? I'm probably going to make a complete prat of myself over the next few weeks, but is there anything that could make this worse?"
"Don't touch me," Malfoy said without needing to think. "Veela mating is chemical; if you touch me in the state you're in we could be in real trouble."
Harry nodded.
"Anything else?" he asked quickly and glanced up as a rumble of thunder rolled across the sky.
"That's it," Malfoy replied and suddenly grinned, "I look forward to your antics. They've been most entertaining so far."
Harry groaned and stood up. It was going to be an uncomfortable couple of months.
"Are you going to tell everyone about the wings?" he asked, needing to know.
"I think it'll be far more entertaining if the rest just think you're losing your mind, don't you?" Malfoy replied with an evil glint in his eye. "Besides, you keep my secret and I'll keep yours. There are those who would like a liaison with the house of Malfoy and would take advantage of my condition. I would rather not have to deal with that."
Harry faced Malfoy as he also climbed to his feet. He looked into his adversary's storm grey eyes and for a brief moment wished that they were not enemies. With a short nod he acknowledged that they understood each other, and then he looked back at the sky.
"We should get back inside," he decided quickly, "it's going to rain."
Without another word the pair set off across the open ground towards the castle. The heavens opened when they were about halfway there and Harry pulled the hood of his cloak up quickly, grateful for the shelter. There was a bright flash and fork lightening lanced out of the sky almost as soon as the water began to fall. It was followed instantly by a roll of thunder.
Harry looked around and then at Malfoy knowing that they both realised how dangerous their situation was: they were in the middle of a piece of flat ground and were the only raised objects in a thunderstorm. Lightening liked magical things, which was one of the reason Hogwarts had several very large lightning rods, but they were too far from the castle to be safe. As one the pair began to run.
Harry felt the build-up of static in their vicinity as his very well-developed sense of danger kicked in. He didn't hesitate. His wings ripped through his clothes as if they weren't there and he threw himself at Malfoy, wrapping the Slytherin in a tight embrace as his wings closed round them in a protective shield.
The lightning struck his highest wingtip a fraction of a second later and pain lanced through Harry at the impact. Most magic his wings could repel, natural forces were more difficult. He paid for opposing the lightning, nowhere near as much as if he or Malfoy had been hit directly, but enough.
It wasn't as if he hadn't felt pain before, it was almost second nature to him, but even so Harry lost it for a while. He had no idea what he was doing, and everything was a blur. When he came back to himself, he was lying flat on his back looking at the sun coming out as the storm headed towards the coast. The clouds seemed to be moving too fast to be natural and Harry wondered what the hell had happened. His wings were folded away, he ached from head to foot, and one arm was being crushed by another body.
There was a groan from beside him and Harry looked over to see Malfoy picking himself up from where he was laying on his limb. He could not fail to notice that his fingers were firmly entwined with long pale ones not his own. As Malfoy sat up, Harry looked past the dishevelled wizard to their joined hands. Malfoy seemed to realise at the same time and snatched his limb away swearing loudly.
"Potter," the other boy yelled loudly and scrambled to his feet, "which bit of don't touch me did you not understand?"
"I wasn't trying to touch you," Harry protested his innocence and felt every part of his body complain as he sat up, "I was just trying to prevent you being fried. We just got struck by lightning if you missed it."
An icy glare was aimed right at him, but Malfoy could hardly argue with the logic of the argument. It took Harry a couple of seconds to realise that his companion was staring at him rather hard and not quite as angrily as he had started.
"Malfoy," he said slowly, a little worried by the abrupt change in his companion.
That snapped Malfoy back to reality.
"Oh bloody hell," he said loudly, "it's started already. I told you if you touched me we were in trouble. We need to get to the hospital wing now: if we're lucky Madam Pomfrey can stop this before it goes any further."
Harry chose not to argue and hurried after the Slytherin as Malfoy stormed towards the castle.