Disclaimer: Don't own anything.

A/N: Due to the high amount of reviews asking, pleading (demanding!) a sequel, followup, companion piece or more chapters to explain a couple of things or just because they just really like the chapter and would fry me alive if I leave them like that, well, I've decided to be a coward (the whole frying alive thing kinda freaked me out! Laughs) and actually write some more to this story (specially since Raia STILL isn't giving me any idas for the other fic as yet). So enjoy this chapter, because, yeah, it's for you.

Hermione could feel his gaze on her from across the room, yet she ignored him, well, she didn't exactly ignore him, but she refused to look in his direction and made him think she was ignoring him. But he was seriously muddling up her concentration and Ron was even beginning to notice! He'd had to point out to her that she'd written the same paragraph three times, and even Snape looked at her in concern when he asked a simple question and she didn't even raise her hand.

So, when Snape began to worry about her, Hermione knew that she was really badly off.

Once again she felt his gaze on her as it'd been since that night of midnight madness. For her credit, she'd thought it'd been a dream, and Malfoy's dressing and taking her unconscious body to the library afterwards had been a sneaky and cunning way of throwing her off, but he'd forgotten one important detail.

He'd forgotten to Glamour away the lovebites he'd left all over her body.

Closing her eyes tightly with a groan, Hermione remembered screaming after bathing the next morning and seeing the condition her body was in, realizing the real reason behind why her muscles were sore.

She'd had sex with Draco Malfoy.
she'd lost her virginity to him.

And she'd damn well enjoyed it as well.

Which made it oh-so-much worse!

She couldn't say she'd been raped! She'd willingly had sex with him, kissed, him, held him close--hell, she'd begged him to fuck her. He'd made it more than enjoyable, and the fact that he'd had her pleasure in mind had been one of the things to convince her that it was only a dream because why would Draco Malfoy care whether the 'ugly mudblood' enjoyed him within her?

"Mione?" Harry whispered to her right. "Are you okay? You look ill."

Opening her brown orbs, Hermione smiled weakly at her best friend and could-be boyfriend. They'd been getting so close, so close to a relationship and now this had had to happen and ruin everything! She couldn't tell Harry and Ron what'd happened because they wouldn't listen to reason, decide that somehow Malfoy had coerced her into it, and would kill him.

And Hermione couldn't let them kill Malfoy.

And she also couldn't be with Harry while keeping such a big secret from him, she was too loyal and cared too much for him to do that, so she was stuck trying to curve her natural attraction to her best friend and trying to figure out how to send out the message 'I'm completely interested but unable to do anything about it' without making him suspicious.

Which, after a lot of thought and calculations on her part, was impossible.

"Miss Granger," Snape droned to her side and she winced, realizing that this wasn't the first time he'd spoken to her. "Are you so advanced that you don't need to pay attention in my class?"

She flinched visibly as the Slytherins found this a hoot and began laughing. "No, sir, I'm sorry."

Snape watched her silently before turning around and turning on Neville Longbottom.

Hermione sighed in relief and leaned her forehead against her desk in exhaustion.

The stress of this secret was killing her.

Damn Malfoy!

Feeling a hand on her shoulder, Hermione sat back up and turned to look at Harry, who was looking at her with the same worried expression he'd been giving her ever since the happening. He didn't know what'd happened, but after years of cultivating his sixth sense to keep alive he could sense that something had happened, that she was keeping something from it, and while it obviously hurt him, it seemed to worry him more.

"Hermione?" He asked, his face closer to hers as he whispered so that Snape couldn't hear. "Do you need me to take you to the Hospital Wing?"

She looked up at his face, oh-so close to hers, and Hermione wished she'd taken the chance and kissed him before this had all begun. Maybe if they'd been in some sort of relationship she wouldn't have given into that 'dream' and she wouldn't be in this mess right now.

No, she'd be snogging Harry Potter.

She groaned, not noticing his face closer to hers than before.

"Mione?"

If Potter doesn't bloody get his hands off of her I'll…!

Hermione jumped, eyes wide.

There it was again!

"Mione? Are you okay?" Harry's hand cupped her jaw and turned her face so that she was looking into his worried face. "What's wrong? What's happening?"

His breath was against her lips.

That's it, I'll do what the bloody Dark Lord couldn't and I'm going to…!

Hermione's eyes widened even further as she looked passed Harry towards the Slytherin section of the room, and into angry, silver eyes.

Was she going insane? She'd once told Harry that even for Wizards it wasn't normal when they began hearing voices, and when she started hearing Draco Malfoy in her head every time Harry, Ron, or any one else got a little too close proved that she was criminally insane.

Why the hell did she have a possessive Malfoy in her head?

What had she done to deserve this?

Screwed him, apparently, a sarcastic little voice in her head deadpanned.

Hermione groaned and closed her eyes tightly as she leaned her forehead once again against the table. She was going crazy! First she'd had sex with Malfoy and now she was hearing his voice in her head?!

"Professor Snape, I think Hermione needs to go to the infirmary." Harry's voice spoke next to her.

"What gave you the first clue, Potter?" Snape asked sarcastically. "Take her, I don't want her infecting the other students if this is a virus."

"Yes sir." Harry stood, and in a move that surprised even Hermione, he reached for her and swung her into his arms.

Squealing at the unexpected change of events, Hermione grabbed onto the front of his robes and held on for dear life as he hurried out of the classroom with her in his arms. A dark blush covered her face as she couldn't help but find his worry for her so endearing.

Things like these were why she'd fallen in love with him.

Of course, just to ruin the moment, the little Malfoy in her head was the last thing she heard as Harry carried her out of potions.

I'm going to enjoy killing him…

"You know, you're probably scaring her." Blaise Zabini announced lazily as he leaned against the column, watching Draco watch Granger. When he didn't even get a reaction from his best friend, the handsome black boy rolled his eyes skyward in exasperation. "Dray, get a grip on yourself man! People will begin to notice!"

"What are they talking about?" Draco hissed to himself as he watched Hermione throwing her head back and laughing at whatever Weasel and Potty were telling her with animated hand gestures. "What could they possibly be saying that'd make her laugh like that?"

Throwing his hands up in the air, the dark Slytherin took in a deep, calming breath. "Who knows? And you know what? I don't want to know the inner workings of the mind of Weasel! I'm just here trying to keep you from looking so pathetically obvious to everyone in Hogwarts! Dray, brother, at least pretend that you're not stalking her!"

That seemed to get through to the blonde and he tore his gaze off of Granger and turned to look at Blaise in irritation. "I am not stalking Granger."

Blaise raised an eyebrow at his best friend, folding his arms over his chest

Malfoy had the decency to blush. "Okay, maybe I've been keeping tabs on her lately…"

"Stalking, Malfoy." Blaise wouldn't be made to be quiet. "The term is stalking."

"I'm not stalking her!" Draco insisted stubbornly.

Pulling out his wand, Blaise conjured a dictionary and flipped through the pages before coming to the word he was looking for and, clearing his throat, read out loud. "Stalking: the act of following prey stealthily." He closed the dictionary loudly and it disappeared in a poof. "You're doing all of that except the 'stealthily' part."

Malfoy glared at him.

Blaise raised his eyebrow.

Granger squealing caused them both to turn curiously and watch as she rode Potter piggy-back style. Her face was red from laughing so hard, and Weasel's tickling her from behind kept her squealing and jerking erratically as Potter twirled her around, his hands under her thighs and disappearing slightly under her skirt.

Blaise noticed this quickly and turned to look at Draco, going in front of him to keep the seething blonde from rushing out at them and making a fool of himself.

"Get out of my way, Zabini." Malfoy gritted out through clenched teeth, two which were beginning to grow longer.

"Put the fangs away Malfoy!" Blaise hissed, looking around to make sure no one had seen that, or the way Draco's eyes had flashed golden in his anger.

Draco stilled and the fangs retracted as quickly as they'd elongated, and his eyes were once more their cold silver. The blonde took in a deep, calming breath and closed his eyes, leaning back against the column. "What's going on with me, Blaise?" He asked in a soft voice. "Why do I care about Granger, Potty and Weasel? Why do I smell her? Why do I feel her? Why do I want her? Why do I--?"

Need her.

Draco didn't have to say the words for Blaise to understand what he meant.

The dark boy sighed and glanced towards Granger as Potter backed her out of the courtyard and back inside of Hogwarts, with Weasel and Weaselette (When he she appeared on scene?) following close behind, laughing at the two brunettes in front.

"I mean, she's a mudblood, Zabini, a mudblood!" Draco exclaimed as if Blaise didn't already know of that fact. "And I've gotten laid before, but I, never, and, argh!"

"Dray, have you ever considered that this might have something to do with your—" he looked around to make sure no one was listening. "Dhampir senses? Do you think that it might have, I don't know, opened up your other senses?"

Draco opened his eyes in curiosity. "What do you mean?"

"Well," this was slightly awkward. "Remember after you got your, ah, new abilities that Dumbledore said that it was because of the regressive Veela genes in your body?"

Draco nodded slowly, following him easily so far. "Yes, my mother was a Veela and my father was half because his mother was a Veela. So I have inactive genes in me as do all male offspring of Veela. So what? That's common knowledge to anyone with a Veela mother—like you. Our genes are there, but they aren't active because we're male."

"But what if yours were activated?" Blaise pressed.

"Impossible." Draco shrugged that off. "There hasn't been a male Veela since--."

"Mario Zabini." Blaise answered. "One of my ancestors. And his was activated by a near-death encounter with a Dementor that tried to Kiss him."

Draco froze. "Dear Merlin." He turned to Blaise, eyes wide in horror. "Are you saying that you think on top of the dhampir genes I'm coming into my Veela heritage?!"

Blaise nodded silently.

"But—but—that's impossible!" Draco sputtered, going paler than usual. "That would mean that Granger is--that Granger is--is my--my--."

"Your Mate, if you're talking Veela." Blaise supplied the appropriate word. "Your Bride, if you're talking Vampiric."

"Oh bugger."

"Do you see how he's hanging onto her when she's so obviously shagging Potter?" Pansy Parkinson asked Millicent Bulstrode as they watched the Golden Trio laughing happily together, accompanied by the Weaslette.

"And is it just me or does the Weaslette just look like she'd spread her legs if Potter gave her the time of day?" Millicent asked, sneering at the four with disgust.

"Completely." Pansy agreed as she watched them pass them, not even noticing the Slytherin girls glaring at them. "Blood traitors and mudbloods."

"Whoring blood traitor at that." Millicent agreed. "I heard Dean Thomas telling Seamus Finnegan about the shagging he gets from that little whore."

"Really?" Pansy asked, surprised.

"Yeah." Millicent nodded. "Said she was a nympho-a nym—a…"

"Nymphomaniac?" Pansy supplied the word.

"Yes!" Millicent grinned broadly. "That!" She paused. "What's a nymphomaniac?"

Pansy grinned, rubbing her hands together. "Something I can use." She looked up to see Draco and Blaise arrived and smiled up at them, wanting to share her plan, but the glare in Draco's eyes caused her to pause and look in the direction he was.

She could only see the Golden Trio laughing as Potter had Granger against the wall, tickling her ferociously.

Pansy returned to look at Draco and saw his eyes flicker golden and she gasped in surprise. What was that?

Hearing Granger gasp, Pansy looked at the mudblood and frowned when she saw her place her hands to her ears and look up immediately at Draco, who was glaring accusingly at her.

The Gryffindor's brown eyes met Draco's silver ones before she pushed passed Potter and hurried down the hall.

The Slytherin Princess frowned.

What was going on here?

"Miss Granger, are you saying that you had sex with Mister Malfoy and have, since then, had his voice in your head?" Dumbledore looked down in surprise at his star pupil, unable to believe his own ears.

The only candidate for Head Girl squirmed in her seat as she looked down at her hands. She'd come to see him moments ago, looking distressed and with a confused pair of best friends behind her and left outside. "Yes sir, but to be fair, I thought I was dreaming."

Well, that wasn't much of a consolation, was it?

The Headmaster looked at the young woman and frowned. It wouldn't have been much of a deal if she'd just had sex with Draco Malfoy, despite the school policies against such things on school ground Dumbledore would have just twinkled his eyes at her and told her that it was yet another step to Inter-House Unity.

But this was different, Draco Malfoy was different, and this was truly surprising and somewhat disturbing.

"And he came?"

She went bright red. "Uhm, ah, uh, yes?"

This was disturbing indeed. Vampires, contrary to belief, couldn't have sexual relations. They were dead, they felt nothing and had no blood of their own, thus they couldn't get aroused and, uh, hard.

Obviously it was a little different in Mister Malfoy's part. He was dhampir, and that meant he was alive, but yet he was supposed to start having that lack of desire to live, that loss of emotion that caused the dhampir to hate the vampire and actively seek to exterminate them for robbed their feelings and emotions from them.

So the fact that Draco Malfoy had not only gotten aroused by Hermione Granger, but had had intercourse with her and had cum was mind-bobbling.

That was unprecedented.

That was historic.

That was…was that a bite mark? "Miss Granger, what is that on your neck?"

Her hand immediately went to the barely visible bite marks on the curve of her neck and she grew redder. "You must be able to see passed the Glamour." She whispered. "He, Malfoy, uh, apparently likes to bite during, uh, intercourse." She blushed darker, not able to meet the Headmaster's gaze.

"Is that the only bite he gave you?" Something was doing flip-flops in Dumebledore's stomach and it wasn't those lemon drops he'd had before her visit.

"Yes." Her gaze went to her shoes. "M-m-my b-b-breast and my inner t-t-thigh."

DEAR MERLIN!

Realization hit Dumbledore so hard he let out a whoosh of air.

It couldn't be!

"But I d-d-didn't come here to talk about t-t-t-that," the innocent, unsuspecting witch stuttered with embarrassment. "I need to know why I hear his voice in my head. Is this a normal thing when a witch loses her virginity to a wizard? Or am I just insane?"

Dumbledore looked down at one of his favorite students and wished he could tell her the truth, wished he could tell her that no it wasn't normal and that no she wasn't insane. She was, in fact, Malfoy's, but he didn't think she'd take that too well, would she?

The Headmaster closed his eyes and took in a deep breath. He should have taken a precaution, but how was he supposed to know that the boy's Bride would be in the same school?! Or that he would have a Bride at all? The few vampires he'd ever known had scoffed at the legend of the Vampire Bride as being just that, a legend.

And wasn't the biting of the inner thigh a Veela claiming tactic to connect her with her intended mate?

And wasn't Mister Malfoy the possessor of a large quantity of Veela genes from both sides of his parents? And hadn't they shown some activation after his attack in the Forbidden Forest?

Dumbledore groaned.

There was no way Miss Granger was going to be able to get rid of Mister Malfoy, especially since they'd already consummated their matehood! She was Malfoy's.

But he couldn't tell her that.

No, he had to talk to Mister Malfoy first.

"Miss Granger," he began, hating to have to lie to her. "Sometimes when two people of strong magical auras have, uh, intense coupling there is a residual remain of their magical aura."

She looked relieved. "So it should fade away after a while?"

Once again, he hated lying to her but it was something he had to do. "Most probably." He needed to talk to Mister Malfoy immediately!

So, hopefully this short story should help jumpstart my dramoine vibes again.