Fated: Chapter One

Disclaimer: Only the plot is mine. The characters, setting, and everything else belong to JKR.

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The sun was starting to make a real nuisance of itself, with its rays incessantly falling down on her eyes. With a moan, she flipped over and buried her head in her pillow. However, that only led to another, more welcome distraction. Warm, soft lips trailed up the nape of her neck up to that spot behind her ear. Unbidden she emitted a soft sigh before a happy smile crossed her face. Opening her eyes, she looked up at her lover through veiled lashes.

"Good morning," she whispered.

He smirked at her. "Oh it will be," he promised as his silver eyes filled with passion. She squealed with delight as he reached out an arm to draw her to him and then—

She woke up. To a sun-filled room that was exactly like the one in her dream with one major difference—he wasn't there.

"Damn it," she swore. Groggily she stumbled out of bed. She shook her head from side to side, trying to get rid of the images from that oh-so-tempting dream. Bad enough that my mate winds up being Malfoy, she thought. But honestly! Constant dreams to remind me of that fact and how happy I'll be once we're together? I really don't need them, really I don't.

Hermione made her bed before walking over to her closet to lay out her clothes for the day. She then ducked into the kitchen to start a pot of tea and some toast. Her breakfast started, it was back to her bathroom for a quick shower. While washing her hair, her thoughts wandered back to her blasted dream and how completely unfair it was for Malfoy to be her mate.

I'd like to have a word with whoever decided that! she thought indignantly. I can't say how compatible we are, mainly because he's so unobtainable. It's blatant that fate or whoever or whatever never bothered to take into consideration the practicality of the relationship ever happening. I would have liked it if it would. Maybe then...well maybe then I wouldn't have been doomed to such a lonely life.

She cast a drying charm on herself after she stepped out of her shower. Then she went back into her room to get dressed. Once that task was complete, it was on to the daily chore of trying to figure out what to do with her hair. Not wanting to spend too much time on it today, she decided just to put it up in a French twist. She peered at herself in the mirror—which wasn't magical because she couldn't deal with those awful things and their cutting remarks—and was satisfied with how she looked. She looked very presentable, and that was a good thing.

Now that she was ready to go to work, she finally had time to eat breakfast and read the paper when it came in. She shuffled over to her kitchen. Reaching into her cupboard, she took out a plate and a cup. She poured the tea into her cup, happily noting that the warming charm on the pot had done the trick. No cold tea for me today. That's a lovely thing. The best thing that's happened to me all morning, in fact.

She placed the two pieces of toast on her plate. With her plate in one hand and her cup in the other, she gingerly walked over to her table, not wanting to spill any tea on herself or drop her breakfast. She carefully placed her food on the table, then pulled out a chair. She smiled happily as she sat down. Being able to eat breakfast without something happening to her was, sadly enough, a major accomplishment these days. That's probably because those damn dreams always leave me feeling so muddled and confused. Not to mention embarrassed. Honestly! Could they be any more cliché? Whoever is writing my dreams has got to lay off the bad romance novels and quick.

She bit into her toast, absently wondering where the morning paper could be. As though her thoughts summoned it, mere seconds later the owl bearing the Daily Prophet arrived, settling on her table with a soft swoosh of its feathers.

It was later than it usually was, but then she never had the heart to complain for she knew the owl who delivered her paper was rather elderly. Hermione dropped her toast on its plate and stood up so she could retrieve a couple owl treats. She offered them to the owl, who took them gratefully before flying off. She settled back into her seat, looking forward to a relaxing breakfast spent reading the paper.

Then she caught sight of the front page. Unconsciously her fingers twitched.

She scowled and reached for the paper. She tried to ignore the photo plastered over the front page but found that she couldn't. Against her will, she found her gaze lingering on the wizard featured front and center in the picture. Her hands twitched involuntarily once more as the tart next to him leaned over to kiss him.

With a low growl, she tore into the paper, almost ripping the front page apart in her rush to get to a different section. There were some things that she just did not want to see. Seeing Malfoy's latest fling wrap herself all over him was near the top of the list.

It's not fair. First the dream and now this! she thought to herself for what must have been the hundredth time. Ever since she had figured out just who her mate was, she had railed against the unfairness of it all. This whole damn situation is so unfair. Bad enough that the wizard fated for me can't stand to be in the same room as me. No, he just also had to have this awful knack of getting himself in the papers at least once a week—and that's usually because they're speculating who he's seeing now!

She balled up the paper and tossed it away from her. That one photo had simply ruined her morning, now that she had seen him and the way Daphne Greengrass was getting close to him. She savagely bit into her toast, washing it down with tea that had gone cold.

Enough. I've been down this path before. I know where it goes. I am not going to obsess over what I can't have. It's better to concentrate on what I can do. She frowned. And to think that I felt so sorry for him back then! He certainly has recovered nicely from his ordeal, the bloody flirt. And of course he's never ever bothered to thank me or even acknowledge me. Harry yes—though it was only that once and in a sort of backhanded way—but me? Never.

She sighed. Somehow the more things changed, the more they did stay the same. Malfoy was still the same bigot he was in school and so hadn't bothered to give her even the smallest of thanks for the way she had stood up for him that day. If it wasn't for her, he would be rotting in Azkaban right now rather than being the damn man whore that he was. He might be a man whore in a different sense however, she thought suddenly and then grimaced. Thinking of him suffering like that brought her no pleasure.

Which was why she hadn't had much choice when it came to defending him all those years ago. She hadn't really been thinking all that much when she had stood up in front of the entire Wizengamot to speak on his behalf, arguing that he had been a mere child in the worst of circumstances. Immediately after she had said her bit, Harry had begrudgingly stood up to back her up. Ron had been livid with them for weeks, but he had eventually got over it all.

Of course, that put the final nail in the coffin when it came to our relationship, she reflected. Just as well, I suppose. It couldn't have gone anywhere anyway. Furiously she wiped away the tears that always had the gall to show up whenever she thought about how lacking her love life was. It was disheartening to know that she was doomed to be alone forever. Enough, enough. I can't let one stupid photo or one stupid, stupid dream affect me this much. Who cares what that bastard does? I certainly don't!

She nodded her head decisively but inside she knew she was lying. In reality, her problem was that she cared all too much about Malfoy, while he didn't give a damn about her.

Thankfully, when she got to work, she saw neither hide nor hair of Malfoy. Hermione truly loved her job at the International Magical Office of Law. Her best friends could never understand how she could stand to be relegated to what they saw as a desk job and often asked why she didn't become follow their path and work as an Auror. However, she liked how much freedom she had in her position to change the rule of law in the Wizarding World. She liked the fact that her position allowed her to be a guardian of the forest and its inhabitants, like all dryads should be. It afforded her the opportunity to live up to her duty as a dryad, despite the fact that she knew she could never attain her full power.

The only real drawback, as she saw it, was the fact that Malfoy had the annoying tendency to show up at the Ministry. It seemed like he always had a reason to be skulking around. She sighed. It got very tiresome how he was constantly underfoot everywhere, trying to influence Ministry policy for his own benefit, to the point that she was seeing him at least twice a week, every week. Her poor heart didn't need that sort of aggravation. Her only consolation was the fact that whenever he visited her department, his opinions coincided with hers, more often than not. It had been a very shocking experience for her the first time she had found out that he supported her views on the preservation of magical forests. It only later dawned on her that his views were informed by the fact that there was a substantial amount of wooded lands near his family's ancestral home. That was just as well, for as painful as it was to have him so close so often, it would have been worse for her if they had been openly at odds with one another over matters in her department.

But today, it seemed as though fate decided to cut her a break, which she completely deserved after how her breakfast was ruined this morning. Scratch that, her entire morning routine had been ruined, not just her breakfast. But not only did Malfoy not curse her with his presence, she didn't even hear a whisper of his name or any of the latest gossip attached to it. That was truly a miracle, for which she was grateful. So it was she was able to happily concentrate on her work.

She hummed to herself as she went through the paperwork that had once again multiplied during the night. There were drawbacks to working in a magical office, one of which was that documents tended to breed. No matter how much headway she made during the day, if she left even a single scrap of parchment on her desk when she went home at night, she would return the next morning to see another healthy stack of paperwork adorning her desk. More than once she was tempted to incinerate the stack, to set an object lesson of sorts.

She sighed. Unfortunately, she couldn't do that. She didn't even want to think about what people would say if she did. It was hard enough for a Muggle-born witch to get a decent job at the Ministry already. The last thing she wanted to do was to set a bad example.

So instead of starting a merry bonfire on top of her desk, she got back to work and tackled the heap of parchment currently adoring it. She methodically made her way through it all, only stopping once to frown at an especially egregious proposal to hack away at some of the oldest woods in all of Britain for the sake of making a few dozen racing brooms. With a roll of her eyes, she quickly denied that one, taking care to point out all of the proposal's flaws as she did so. A little over half of the applications and proposals on her desk met the same fate, and before she knew it, it was already time for lunch.

She packed up her desk, efficiently putting away all her things in order. She stood up and grabbed her bag. With one last final look at her desk—and a silent prayer that more paperwork wouldn't greet her when she returned—she set off for Diagon Alley.

For the last several weeks, Hermione had been toying with the idea of getting a new kitten, a replacement of sorts for Crookshanks. It had been over two years since Crookshanks had finally passed away. She thought that she was as ready as she would ever be for a new cat in her life. Besides it was lonely to come home with no one to greet her. Her flat seemed so large and empty on those nights she stayed home alone, which was more often than not. While she might not ever have her mate—she grimaced to herself and corrected that 'might not' to 'would not'—a new kitten would be good company for her.

She had been meaning to go to Magical Menagerie to find one for quite some time, but somehow she always wound up being too tired to do anything after work except return home and crash. She had come to the conclusion that if she was ever going to get a new pet, then it would probably be best for her to go during her lunch time.

Of course if she picked up a new companion during her lunch break, she would either have to go home early or bring it with her to work, because she didn't want to leave her hypothetical new familiar alone in her flat right after getting it. She didn't really have the time to take off, seeing how busy she was, and so she had arranged with her boss for her to keep her new familiar in her office. That request had turned out very well; not only did her boss give her permission to bring her new kitten with her after buying it, he had also told her that she could keep it there for the first week or two so long as she didn't let it out of her office. She couldn't help but feel happy at that thought.

More proof that I've been alone for too long. I suppose I should've got a new kitten sooner, but oh well. There was a spring to her step as she navigated through the halls of the Ministry to nearest Apparation chamber. She fixed her destination clearly in her mind and then Apparated.

She arrived near Gringotts in Diagon Alley. She took a moment to get her bearings, just to make sure she had arrived where she had intended to. Seeing that she had, she immediately set off towards Magical Menagerie. Now that she had managed to get everything arranged, she was eager to pick out her new familiar.

Hermione nodded to the old witch at the till as she entered the shop. She didn't need to stop and ask where the kittens where; her ears could pick up their mews. She stopped in front of their crate and beamed. The kittens were all absolutely adorable. There was a handful of them romping around and having fun. She watched their antics, trying to decide which one would come home with her. There were two ginger kittens that she immediately discounted. They would remind her too much of Crookshanks and so invite comparisons to him. That wouldn't be fair to them. She looked to and fro before deciding on a gray little moggy whose coat reminded her of someone she could never have. She reached into the crate with her hand to pick up that kitten, thinking that it would suit her quite well. However, before she could do so, a small shadow separated itself from the wall and pounced on her hand.

"Ow!" she exclaimed as she drew back her hand. She looked down to see what had attacked her. A small black kitten was staring up at her with an intelligent expression in its eyes, as if daring her to try again. Its fur was as dark as night, and even now she had to concentrate in order to see it for otherwise it would blend in with the shadows once more. She tried shifting in the direction of the grey kitten, but the black kitten's eyes followed her every move.

"Let me guess. You're not going to let me take any of your friends home. All right then, how about if I pick you?" she asked it. It cocked its head to one side. She could have sworn that it was having an internal debate about whether or not to accept her offer. Finally it nodded its head, awfully solemnly for such a young thing, indicating that it would lay aside its kitty pride and go home with her.

Hermione smiled back at the small kitten. "Excellent." She reached down and picked the kitten up, absently taking note of the fact that it was a she. "I think you and I will get along smashingly well," she said. Cradling the kitten in her arms, she made her way back to the front of the shop. She gently scratched behind the kitten's ears, who purred happily in response. She had just reached the front of the shop again when she was stopped in her tracks by a high-pitched screech.

"I don't believe this! That's the kitten I want!" cried Daphne Greengrass. Before Hermione could react, the Slytherin witch had walked right up to her, a sneer on her face. "Give it over here! I saw him first!"

"Hello to you too, Greengrass," said Hermione. Her fingers twitched, and a fleeting thought crossed her mind of how lovely it would be to hex the tart away. Somehow she resisted that urge. "It's funny how you still don't know the difference between boys and girls. Tell me, did your parents forget to explain all that to you?" Meanwhile the kitten was snarling at the Slytherin witch, her hair raised on end.

Greengrass flushed prettily. "I'm not so vulgar as to personally check that out," she sniffed haughtily. "But that's beside the point. I saw it first!"

"Are you feeling quite all right? Because if I remember correctly—and believe me, I always do—I was here first. I fail to see how you could have seen her first."

The other witch huffed in indignation. "For someone whose reputation solely consists of being clever, you're not at all. Obviously I was here before you, but now I'm back to get my cat."

"Good luck with that. The rest of the kittens are in the back. As for this little darling…she's mine." Hermione smiled down at the kitten, who was continuing to snarl at the other witch. "Go get another one," she stated firmly.

"Oh!" Greengrass stomped her foot, then looked around. "Draco!" she cried. "Get over here! This stupid slag refuses to give me back my kitten!"

It took all of Hermione's will power not to rip out Greengrass' throat as Malfoy drifted up behind the Slytherin witch and wrapped an arm around her waist. "Is there a problem, darling?" he drawled, not even bothering to acknowledge Hermione's presence.

"Yes there is one. I told you we should have come back here right away. But no! You just had to go check out the latest brooms." Greengrass tossed her head back, her blonde hair floating around her like a halo. "Now this wretch has absconded with the kitten I wanted! Make her give it back!"

Malfoy looked down his nose at Hermione and the kitten she held cradled in her arms. Then he looked away. "No," he said firmly.

Hermione's heart just about stopped. She couldn't have heard that correctly. Draco Malfoy couldn't possibly be taking her side over that of his current fling.

Evidently Greengrass couldn't believe it either. "No?" she squawked. "Are you trying to be funny? Because let me tell you, you are failing miserably. Draco Malfoy, you promised to buy me the kitten I wanted. Now I expect you to keep your word."

He looked at the witch at his side through half-closed eyes. "Pick another," he drawled.

Greengrass shook her head from side to side, standing her ground. "I want that one," she said through gritted teeth.

Malfoy sighed elegantly as only he could. "Darling," he said lazily, with a wicked grin on his lips, "are you out of your mind? How could you possibly want any animal that something as muddy as that"—he waved a hand in Hermione's direction, not even bothering to spare her another glance—"has dirtied with her unclean hands. I have every intention of keeping my promise, but I refuse to buy something that has been contaminated by such filth. Who knows what sort of noxious diseases it might bring home?"

Those words just about broke her. Hermione wanted nothing more but to flee the vicinity and lock herself up some place safe where she could have herself a good cry. Malfoy had confirmed all of her worst fears, and she didn't want to linger here any further. But she had her pride and it wouldn't let her take such an insult without retaliating in kind, mate or not.

"By your reasoning, you should have volunteered to rot in Azkaban rather than hide behind my words," she said coldly. "But such is the worth of a Malfoy. Always knowing just how to repay his debts." She held her head high and marched passed the two pure-blood idiots.

"And here I thought you might thank me for your cat," Malfoy's voice floated mockingly after her. She ignored him in favor of paying for her new familiar. Thankfully neither Malfoy nor Greengrass bothered her further. Her day was already ruined from her encounter with them.

Somehow she managed to return to her office without shedding a single tear. It was testament to the fact that she had long given up all hope of ever being united with her mate. Still the way he had so summarily dismissed her as being below him…she furiously wiped her eyes with her sleeve. Malfoy wasn't worth her tears.

As she had feared, the paperwork on her desk had grown more mountainous in her absence but for once she was glad about that fact. She very much wanted to lose herself in her work, to do everything she could to put that awful encounter behind her. Hermione set down her new kitten on the floor after she locked her office door. She went over to the corner of her office where she had stashed her pet supplies. She pulled out a litter box along with a few toys that she tossed the kitten's way. All too predictably her new familiar ignored the toys in favor of exploring her new surroundings. Hermione shook her head, amused by the young cat's antics. She filled up a small water bowl and returned to her desk. Her work beckoned.

Time flew by. Hermione hardly noticed the hours as they whipped by, so engrossed she was in turns by her work and her familiar. She found it astonishing how the kitten could blend in perfectly with the shadows, and just like that, the little kitten had a name. When Shadow wanted to hide, it was literally impossible to find her. Hermione figured that the kitten had to be at least part kneazle to have such a magical ability.

Before Hermione knew it, the sun had set and it was time to go home. She spent several minutes tidying up her desk. She wasn't the sort to like coming in to a mess in the morning. All things considered, it had been a productive day for her. She had finished the two reports that were due early, and so that had left her with a couple hours to spend drafting her next proposal for the department to consider.

Once everything was neat and put away, Hermione turned her attention to the pet supplies strewn about her office. She smiled as she pulled out her wand to send them all over to her flat. She then glanced around for her new familiar. Not catching sight of the young cat, she called out, "Shadow?" A happy purr sounded from her feet. She looked down to see Shadow sitting down next to her. Hermione bent over and picked up her cat. She glanced around one last time before leaving the office.

Upon arriving home, Hermione headed immediately towards the kitchen with Shadow firmly in her arms. She set the kitten down on the floor. Shadow bounced around, curious about her new surroundings, as Hermione searched about for a tin of tuna. She thought that it would be a nice welcome for the young thing. She opened the tin with ease and placed the tuna in a bowl, but before she could pick it up to place on the floor, Shadow leapt on to the countertop in a single, graceful leap.

"Oh!" cried Hermione. She looked at the kitten and then at the floor. "You're certainly athletic," she remarked. "I wouldn't have thought you could make it up this high." She stored that information away in her head. Now that she had another kneazle-mix around, she would have to be careful once more about what she left lying around.

Hermione made herself a cup of tea. Gingerly she carried it over to the table, walking very slowly so she wouldn't spill it on herself. That was the last thing she needed after the day she had. She set it down on the table and then sat down herself. She took several long drinks from her cup, the warmth of the tea soothing her frazzled nerves. It was never easy, having to see Malfoy face to face. It made it harder when he was with another witch for then she had to fight her instincts. But to have to listen to him denigrate her so—it would be heart breaking if her heart hadn't already been shattered.

Hermione thrust those thoughts aside. Tomorrow will be a better day, she chanted silently to herself. The afternoon mail on the table caught her eye, and she reached out a hand to draw the small pile to her. It was the usual assortment of stuff. There were a couple bills and her copy of the latest edition of Potions Monthly. But at the bottom of the entire pile was something quite unusual—a small, fancy envelope with the address done in elegant calligraphy.

She groaned at the sight of it.

With shaky fingers, Hermione opened the envelope. Inside it was something she had long been dreading, and that was an invitation to Ron's wedding.

She buried her face in her arms on top of the table. She was happy for Ron. She was happy that he had found someone to share his life with. And more than that, she genuinely liked his choice of fiancée. Padma Patil was not only clever, but kind and compassionate, a rare combination of virtues indeed. It was very easy for Hermione to see why Ron had been attracted to the witch. This engagement was a long time coming, and she had expected it for quite some time.

All that aside, she wasn't looking forward to what people would be saying to her about it. Some of her friends, mainly Harry and Neville, would treat her with extra care, worried that she might break at any time if she realized that she had lost Ron for good. Other of her friends, such as Ginny, would look upon this as an opportunity to convince Hermione to start dating again. She was looking forward to neither reaction. However that all paled in comparison to the reception she would receive from Molly Weasley.

Mrs Weasley was going to gloat.

The matriarch of the Weasley clan had never really forgiven Hermione for breaking things off with Ron. The first couple of months after their split, Molly had incessantly nagged Hermione to go and apologize to Ron. Eventually she gave up on that campaign, realizing that Hermione was not to be moved. Ever since then, Mrs Weasley had become increasingly bitter. The last time Hermione had attended a Sunday brunch at the Burrow, Molly had been insufferable. Her rant on how Hermione was going to wind up alone because the younger witch thought herself too good for a decent wizard was only stopped when Harry had finally lost his temper and told the old hag to shut up.

Hermione hadn't bothered to visit the Burrow since then, and her friends understood why. No one pressed her to return. However, inevitably, something for the wedding would be hosted at the Burrow—maybe the bridal shower, maybe the reception. And as Ron was one of her dearest friends, she couldn't very well turn down that invitation. Not that it would do her any good if she did. People would only start gossiping how she was still in love with her best friend.

It was a lost cause.

Hermione lifted up her head. There was no help for it. She would simply have to endure her friends' pity and Mrs Weasley's wrath. At the very least, the wizard she had loved since childhood would be getting his happy ending.

She was very happy that at least one of them was.

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Author's note: My thanks to everyone who was kind enough to review the last time around. It has been forever since I last updated this fic. Sorry for the long wait--I simply was having trouble deciding which plot path to follow. I thought I had decided on this one, which is the shorter fic as well. But the longer, more intricate plot--well it keeps calling to me. So I probably will wind up writing another version of this fic (same first chapter, but everything is different from there) once I finish my other long fic.

As always, reviews would be lovely. :D