A Veela's Mate || Draco Malfoy

Oᴘᴇʀᴀᴛɪᴏɴ Dɪsᴛʀᴀᴄᴛɪɴɢ Dᴜᴍʙʟᴇᴅᴏʀᴇ

Friday, September 20

Albus Dumbledore was in a foul mood when he entered the Great Hall the next morning. If it wasn't for the fact that he didn't want to cause unnecessary worries among the students, then he would have holed himself up in his office until he had found a way to remove the blasted jinx, hex, curse, whatever that he was currently under.

Glaring darkly at Iris, who was sitting at the Gryffindor table looking innocent while eating her breakfast and chatting away with Neville Longbottom, Albus swore to get even with the brat. Iris Potter might be the hero of the wizarding world, but that did not mean that she was allowed to play pranks on innocent people. And being the only one capable of defeating Tom Riddle did not give her leave to prank the Headmaster of Hogwarts!

No, the girl was dangerously out of control, and unless she agreed to remove the spell this very morning, then Draco Malfoy would be sent from the castle before the insolent brat could blink! And if Albus had his way, the Veela would spend his time locked up in the deepest dungeon possible until such a time that Iris came back to her senses.

To think that he had actually thought it a good thing that Iris was the mate of Draco Malfoy. For years, Albus had tried to get people to see that the Purebloods were more trouble than they were worth. The Muggleborns were much more manageable, not to mention that they listened to him when he offered advice, something none of the old families wanted to do. This would serve them all as a lesson; you did not snub your nose at Albus Dumbledore, Supreme Mugwump and Chief Warlock, no sir, you most certainly did not! He was going to show that young upstart who was the master of the castle.

"Albus, are you feeling all right?"

Albus started at the unexpected question that interrupted his internal plotting of revenge. Turning to his right he looked into Minerva's concerned eyes. "I'm fine my dear," Albus said, dredging up a smile from somewhere.

"You haven't heard a word I've said, have you?" Minerva asked, eyeing the Headmaster with a worried frown. "For that matter, what possessed you to dress like that? I must say that your normal, more... flamboyant style of dress actually is to prefer to that... I actually lack words," Minerva said, eyeing Dumbledore's black robes with a disapproving eye. "Or did you lose a bet with Severus?" she added, her eyes lightening up in merriment at the thought. "But don't you think coloring your hair and beard black as well was going a bit too far?"

"I most certainly did not," Albus said with a sneer, feeling highly insulted. "No, I'm under some sort of curse. Or possible a hex or a jinx," he reluctantly added.

"Oh? Who would dare cursing you? It isn't anything harmful is it?" Minerva asked, growing concerned again.

"No, at least, we don't think it is. Poppy is researching possible cures as we speak. I was cursed late last night, but we have been unable to determine just what spell was used," Albus was forced to reveal, not liking to admit that he didn't know something. He had a reputation for being omnipotent, and he enjoyed that reputation far too much to deliberately do something that would damage it. At least the school nurse had been able to remove the muting hex. Albus shuddered to think what would happen if he had to endure that humiliation on top of everything else going on.

"If Poppy can't identify the spell then it is serious," Minerva commented, having full confidence for the school nurse's abilities. "Have you thought of consulting St Mungo's? For that matter, do you know who it was that cursed you?" Minerva asked, before gasping, clutching at her throat. "You don't think it was the Mysterious Pranker, do you?"

"It was Iris Potter," Albus said through grinded teeth. Then he blinked. "Mysterious Pranker? What new nonsense is this?"

McGonagall shrugged her shoulders uncomfortably. "It is what some have nicknamed our mysterious Monday prankster. The name is somewhat fitting, wouldn't you say? And what makes you think that Iris is the one pranking you? Did the two of you have another argument? But why would she attack you? Iris is a nice girl; she is nothing like her father. To tell you the truth, I've always imagined that Iris would follow in James' footsteps, although Merlin knows that we didn't need another mischief maker during the Weasley twins' school years. I doubt the castle would have remained standing if the three of them had gotten into a prank war," McGonagall added, shuddering at the horrors that sprang into her mind at the mere thought.