Hermione was excited to be starting her eighth year in Hogwarts. After the trials, heartaches and terror of the last seven years she felt ready to deal with school drama and teenage angst. Barely. Though after having seen third years snogging in three different compartments and a couple of fifth years nearly naked in another she was almost ready to go back hunting horcruxes.

Her fellow head, Draco Malfoy was not making it any easier. He seemed to find every episode funnier than the last. They were currently in the Head compartment with the respective partners, Ron Weasley and Pansy Parkinson. Pansy had Malfoy's head in her lap stroking his hair. Her look said she would hex Ron's bollocks off if he tried the same thing and he was currently pouting.

She cared about him. She really did, but honestly sometimes he could just be a bit much. He knew she was not in to the entire idea of public displays of affection but still would not stop trying to take it one step too far. She allowed him to hold her hand and kiss her cheek. He tried to slip a hand in her back pocket and stick his tongue down her throat.

She was beginning to wonder how compatible they really were. How much of her caring for him was based on their closeness as children and the trauma they had faced together. He was intelligent enough when he put his mind to it, but he rarely bothered. He had terrible manners, but was kind when he wanted to be, he just never particularly wanted to be. He was never unkind to her, but he did not seem to want to bury the hatchet with Draco who fought on the other side, no matter if they were pressed to it or not.

Present company was a prime example. He had taken every opportunity to bait both Pansy and Draco. Yes, Pansy had tried to give up Harry to Voldemort. She had been terrified. Yes Draco had taken the Dark Mark. Voldemort was living in his home. He really didn't have a choice, what child soldier did? What choice had they had NOT to fight for the right side? Did they ever have the choice to remain neutral? Ron chose to believe they were evil for evil's sake. Bullies yes. Horrid children, but none of them were children anymore and sadly it was their side who were becoming the bigger bullies these days.

They were still several hours out from Hogwarts when Hermione noticed Draco seemed to be having breathing problems. Lowering her book she looked at him. He appeared flushed and feverish and his breaths were coming in pants.

Pansy looked at her in a panic. "What is wrong with him?"

"No one cares." Snarled Ron.

"Ronald Billius Weasley!" shouted Hermione "I care what is wrong with him. And if you were a decent human being so would you. What would your mother say?!"

Draco knew exactly what was wrong with him. Pansy would understand immediately if he took the time to explain and she would immediately shove the other two out. He should be explaining. But he could not get the words out.

He was transforming. His vela genes were becoming active. He was facing his second puberty as it were. At the end he would find his mate. His parents had signed a contract to ensure it would be Pansy Parkinson when he was young. She was supposed to be the only female in the room with him when he transformed so his vela would have no choice in the matter, it would be driven to mate. So why wasn't he telling her to get the other two out? He knew what his obligations were. What his father expected of him. He had never failed to live up to his father's expectations before. No matter the cost. The scar on his arm could attest to that.

So what was the hold up?

He felt the seat next to him depress and a cool hand touch his forehead. The vela in him purred at the touch. He wanted everyone gone so he could be alone with whoever this was. Please don't let it be the Weasel the part of him that was still Draco thought.

Looking up he fully expected to see Pansy, he knew she was the only one who still cared enough to check that he was OK. He was surprised to see the soft brown eyes of Hermione Granger looking back into his own with concern.

"You are burning up, Draco." She said quietly. He realized it was probably the first time she had ever used his given name. He was surprised to find out how much it pleased him. "Aguamenti" she said wetting a handkerchief and pressing it to his forehead. "You need healing; I need to go get someone."

He gripped her wrist lightly where it was holding the handkerchief to his head "Don't leave me." He whispered.

She sighed. He must be delirious with fever already if he was asking her to stay.

"Ron, go get one of the professors. Pansy, go get the nurse, there is always one on the train."

"Which professor?" asked Ron mulishly. She knew he did not like the idea of leaving her here with Malfoy.

Pansy looked torn about leaving as well, glancing back and forth between Draco and her.

"I don't bloody care which one! He is incredibly ill. He is burning up with a fever. He is clearly delirious! I cannot treat this on my own. He needs help immediately. I don't have time for either of your nonsense! Now GO! BOTH OF YOU!" She shouted this last part causing both of them to jump. They finally did as she commanded each casting one last look back as they hurried to do her bidding. She could be frightening when she was angry and having her orders disobeyed during an emergency made her furious.

When she turned back to Draco she calmly took the handkerchief and rewet it and pressed it to his forehead again quietly telling him help would arrive soon. She did not care for the look he was giving her. It was dark, almost predatory. "Draco…?"

"Yes Hermione?" his voice was silky, sensual. She swallowed hard in spite of herself.

"Do you have any idea what kind of illness you have? Is anyone else in her household ill?" She was blushing now at the way he was looking at her. She had the oddest feeling she was no longer in the presence of Draco Malfoy. Which of course was absurd.

The vela liked this little witch. She was far more suitable than the one she had sent away. Searching through Draco's memories of her he knew she was intelligent, brave, a warrior. Yes, far more suitable. A slow smile spread across his face. Silently he sealed the room. No one would enter. No one would hear or see anything that went on in the compartment. No one would be taking away his rightful mate. His magics were too strong now. He knew that. Not as strong as they would be, but strong enough for this.

"No one else in my family is ill Hermione. I am not ill. Stop your fretting." He was still holding lightly to her wrist. He began tracing circles on the back of her hand lightly with his thumb.

"You… you're not?" Now she knew he was delirious. "Draco, you are sick, very sick. You are burning up with fever. I need to go see if help is almost here…" She tried to pull her hand away and was surprised to find she could not. He did not injure her but he was not turning her loose either. "Draco… you need to turn me lose now…"

"Draco is gone for now… he won't be back for some time… for now it is just you and I pretty thing."

"Go..Gone?" Hermione did not want to admit to herself that she believed him. Had he gone mad? Was it the fever or something else? Could she still reach him? "What do you mean? Who do you believe you are?"

"Not who am I my love" her stomach flipped over at the term of endearment "more what am I" she watched in fascination as he slowly began to transform before her eyes. His canine teeth dropped down and elongated making her very afraid. Was Draco Malfoy a vampire?!