A/N: Yay for being done with finals! What a huge relief it is to finally be home, and being able to think in english instead of spanish for a change. And with being home, will hopefully come a lot more chapters. And just as a warning, this chapter is long... like almost twice as long as the other chapters. I know some people prefer that, but I've always had mixed feelings. Cause I never want a chapter to be so long it becomes boring, but I don't want it to be to short and unsatisfying. But, when writing this chapter there was no logical cut off point in the middle, that's why it's so long. Also, this is all in Hermione's POV. I promise there will be more Draco next chapter, but again, I just couldn't logically fit him in. So, I hope you like it! Please review, and let me know what you think!

Chapter Three

The waiting was the worst part. Upon the completion of the spell, Malfoy stabilized, but had yet to wake up, something I both dreaded and was thankful for. That gave me more time to come up with a more clinical explanation for what I had just done. Because, such an explanation would not only be needed for Malfoy, but also for the chief of healing. God, why had I not thought of him before I went rouge and performed ancient magic? Why had I not been more like Ginny and thought about what ramifications this might have on my own life? Because sitting here, with all these new sensations, I wish I had been more like Ginny. I wish I had been more selfish. More than anything, I felt reckless, like Harry running off to the Ministry of Magic at the first sign of trouble. At the first sign of trouble, I went to an extreme, without much consideration of other options.

But, all of these thoughts might be a side effect of the spell. When I read it for the first time, I had been much more interested in the theory rather than the logistics, and now I can't help wondering if I had just done something terrible and trapped both Malfoy and I in a prison which we could never escape. I couldn't help but start trembling at the possibilities.

Taking a deep breath, I tried to calm myself. First, thing is first, word must be sent to the chief of healing. Legally, that was the best way to cover ourselves, trying to keep it a secret could result in scandal. Next, is to get a nurse to notify Ginny that she needed to leave for the day. This was just for extra precautionary standards. While I was fairly certain that the spell would take care of this problem, there was so much I had yet to know, and I wanted to veer on the safe side. While professionally I may be frustrated with her, Ginny is still my friend, and should be protected as much as possible. And then there was the Malfoy, himself serving as a problem. While the fact that he had not woken up yet was calming emotionally, it was not the best thing medically. If the spell, combined with his fragile state, had been to powerful, it might have overstressed his body, sending him into a coma.

That proved not to be a problem as, after a couple of minutes, he began to stir. I felt awkward at first, not knowing which role to play in this situation. Should I be the healer or go for the old acquaintance route. This was Malfoy after all, and we didn't have the best history together, so the latter might prove to be volatile. However, it had to be considered that he had almost no idea what was happening. As far as I know, he had no knowledge that his Veela blood was active, much less that there were any Veela in his family. He had gone through a tremendous amount of change in the past twenty four hours without really knowing or having a choice in the matter. He was likely to be angry, if not scared. And a familiar face, even if it is a not so favorable one, is better than nothing.

As he began to shift in bed, his eyes opened slowly, he glanced at me confusedly,

"Malfoy, it's Hermione Granger. You're in the hospital. Do you remember me?" It felt like a stupid question to ask, but I was unsure of what else to say, or what to tell him. Hey, you're a Veela, whose mate left him, and oh, I bonded our souls together in order to save your life. I suspected that approach would not go over well.

"Granger." He croaked, his voice obviously hoarse. I rushed over to get him water, and as I handed him the glass, our fingers brushed for only the most minute of seconds, but it was still enough to send a shock wave up my spine. Malfoy showed no reaction to the touch, however, so I wrote it off as simple static electricity. After he had taken a could of sips, he found his voice again and continued. "Where's Weasley?"

With that my stomach dropped. His Veela was still longing for Ginny, which was possibly the worst case scenario. Because, not only is he now attached to me, a woman who is not his mate, but he also has to suffer the realization that she does not want him all over again, except, this time, he cannot die, and will forced to live with this heartache for the rest of his life. A terrible sense of guilt washed over me. Sure, I had saved his life, but in doing so, did I also condemn him to hell.

"I asked her to leave." I stated simply. I was surprised, however, that there was little reaction to this statement. If he really did still believe Ginny to be his mate, than he would have immediately tried to escape, to make his way to wherever she was, and mark her as his own. Trying to further explore the notion, I continued on. "Malfoy, what do you feel towards Ginny?"

He made a face. A snarling, rude, one hundred percent Draco Malfoy face, and in my eyes it couldn't have been more perfect. Because that meant the spell had worked, and that he no longer felt an attachment to Ginny. It was strange, but my heart couldn't help but soar at the realization.

"I suppose, nothing, really. I try not to think about any of the Weasleys. But…" Malfoy faltered, he sneer fading by a fraction of an inch. "I, I remember her. I think. It's all very fuzzy. But she was definitely there. And she was glowing." His eyes suddenly flashed up at me suspiciously. "Granger, have you given me some kind of drug? Tricked me into dreaming about Weasley. How did I get here? What have you done to me?"

His voice rose louder and louder, along with his panic. I was worried this would happen. His grogginess distracted him upon first waking, but now that he is up and thinking, it was only a matter of time before he started asking questions. I only wished I would have an easier time answering those questions.

"Malfoy, you were brought here by your mother three days ago, you won't remember because you were unconscious at the time. You're at St. Mungo's. We've been keeping you sedated using a muggle for of medicine, because the process went through would have put you through excruciating pain." I explained it all in a soft calm voice, trying not to delve into specifics just yet. For some reason the tone of my voice seemed to calm him, and the tension in his body dissipated quickly. However, the furrow in his brow remained.

"What transformation? Look at me, I obviously haven't transformed into anything." He held up his hand, as if to prove his statement to me.

"It's not that obvious, Malfoy." I sighed, not wanting to continue. In the days when he lay unconscious I had prepared myself for what I was going to say to him, how I was going to explain. It would have been so much easier if he hadn't found his mate, because then he could feel it, feel the tug towards his mate, and it would help him come around to the truth. Now, he only has a connection with me and some heightened senses, to validate a huge change in his life. It would be difficult for any person, especially one with a history like Draco Malfoy. He has been bred to believe that he is better than others due to his pureblood. Now I have to inform him that that blood is not so pure after all, actually, in hardly even human anymore.

"You see, you have certain genes that are rare in wizards. You accumulated it because, somewhere along your family line, someone mated with a Veela. This did not necessarily mean that all of your ancestors were Veelas, it just meant they contained the gene, and passed it down, just like you would pass down a gene for say, blue eyes. In almost all of your ancestors the genes laid dormant, but there was something in your genetic code that activated yours."

I paused for a moment, giving him time to ask any questions or pose any concerns. I was taught in my healer training that this gives the patient a sense of control over their condition. It's easier to feel as if you came upon a conclusion yourself than have someone dictate it to you. He sat there, still as a statue taking in all the words I had spoken. When he made no moves to contradict or question me, I continued.

"The process you went through is called Genetic Assimilation. Your Veela gene has been active your entire life, but it never became obvious until your transformation. It is traditional for most Veela to transform by their 20th birthday, but your transformation may have occurred later due to how diluted your Veela blood had become of the past few centuries. You did have some signs of being a Veela growing up, but unless you were looking, it would have been impossible to diagnose you as such."

"This…" He paused, finally finding his voice. "This transformation. What does it entail? I've seen Veela, but I feel no different, no more like them." I felt an unexpected pull in my heartstrings, and it took a large amount of willpower not to reach out and grab his hand. He was hurting. I could feel it in my very core. It was weird, feeling someone else's emotions, like you had super sensitivity. But it wouldn't help to get emotional now. That would come later.

"Well, you went through a completely normal transformation, with the exception of one complication." My voice trailed off during the last bit, yet I still saw his eyes widen in shock. I decided to continue on before he could question me. "While right now it doesn't seem like you have physically changed, you have. Your height has increased, along with body mass and metabolism. Veelas are very strong creatures, whose senses are much sharper than that of wizards. Your eyesight and hearing have both improved, as has your sense of taste and smell. The transformation is particularly painful due to all of this change that occurs in the body. Basically your body broke itself down, and rebuilt itself within the span of three days."

"But I don't feel as if my eyesight's better at all. I see perfectly, just the way I did before." His voice was now getting angry. The sense of both that had engulfed us now was disappearing, and my heart began to race in anticipation.

"That is due to the complication." I fiddled aimlessly with the bottom of my healer's coat, doing anything I could to look away from Malfoy's questioning eyes. "You see, this complication was very dire because it dealt with your mate."

At the word mate, Malfoy's entire body shot up, as if it had gone through an electric shock. He stared at me as if he was seeing me for the first time, and yet, their was still some suspicion behind his pale orbs. It was unsettling to be looked at in such a way. "It's you!" He proclaimed in almost disbelief. "You're my mate!"

"No! No, I'm not!" In normal circumstances I may have reacted with more tact. Veela's take rejection harshly, even if it's from someone who they were not mated to. But my proclamation didn't seem to faze Malfoy at all. If anything, it made him look more determined. His hand shot out, with superhuman speed, and grabbed mine, and again, I felt the shock wave run down my spine. This time I know Malfoy felt it to, because his hand involuntarily tightened around mine.

"Yes, you are. I couldn't figure it out at first, but now it's clear. I feel you inside of me. I know what you're feeling. When you speak, I believe your words to be true, no matter how outrageous they are. You are my mate." He spoke in a voice that was no longer surprised but determined, as if he needed to prove me wrong, to make me believe him with his words. I took a deep breath, trying to relax as I had earlier, and as I began to calm down, I felt his hand loosen around mine. I didn't pull away, however.

"No, Malfoy, I'm not." I said, in the sincerest voice I could manage. His face read like a picture book, as it fell back into confusion. I continued to speak lowly, trying not to cause alarm. "You see, your mate was here when you woke up. She's probably the reason you woke up actually. A Veela's pull towards their mate is powerful, that you were able to resist the medicine in order to claim her."

"It's Weasley isn't it?" His face was devoid of all emotion, and for the first time since he had woken up, I was having a hard time reading him.

"Yes, it was Ginny, who is no longer Weasley, but rather, a Potter." Silence reigned, as Draco no longer looked at me, but at the opposite wall. I didn't know what to do. Try to give him some sort of comfort by assuring him that everything was going to be all right? I couldn't do that, because I didn't know for certain that everything would be all right. There were so many questions hanging in the air that I was so worried about saying anything, because at that moment, I could have been wrong about everything.

"But…" he started again, no longer angry, instead returning to the suspicious tone that he had worn upon first waking. "That doesn't make sense. I mean, she's a Weasley, for God's sake. Their whole family ideology is opposed to my very existence. How could she be my soul mate?"

I went to interrupt him, to explain that Veela mating had nothing to do with soul mates, but rather with the female's magical core, and their ability to create offspring. Upon reflection, Ginny may have been the perfect mate for Malfoy. She comes from a strong pureblood line, similar to that of the Malfoy's without being interbred, and she has a family history of fertility. Ginny would have no problem conceiving a Veela offspring. Momentarily, I was struck with the thought of my own fertility. I hadn't been Malfoy's mate, which either meant I did not have a strong enough core, or that I wasn't a fertile match. If there was anything in the world I was confident about, it was my magical abilities, so that only left one real option. I hadn't thought much of kids, but here, being bombarded with the thought that I couldn't have them, almost sent me into a panic. But luckily for me, Malfoy was able to distract me by continuing his train of thought.

"And then there's you." His voice was growing in volume, and the suspiciousness now seemed to be turning into an accusation. "Even after you confirmed it, I feel nothing for the Weasley girl. She could present herself body and soul front of my now and I would feel nothing, But you. I feel you. That I know. You have somehow found a way inside of my brain, and for the life of me, I cannot figure out why. You're not my mate. As far as I can figure out, you're only my healer. And yet I feel you. Care to explain that?"

I felt the distinct desire to run. To get as far away from the situation as possible. I was probably breaking hospital protocol anyways. Because, after what happened, Malfoy could now be considered as one of my friends and family. It was immoral to be the healer on the case of someone you cared about, because your senses would be clouded, and you would make irrational decisions. I should really go get the chief of healing and have him explain it. It would be easier that way. But with him, staring at me so intensely, I found myself unable to move, and I found myself speaking despite my best sense.

"It all has to do with the complication..."

"For God's sake Granger! You keep speaking of this complication, but you have done anything yet to explain what really happened! What, are you trying to cover up one of your inept mistakes, and blaming it on my condition. I'll have you know that I have some of the best lawyers in the country who will sue your ass!" He was angry, full out so, and his anger only served to fuel mine. I couldn't sit there while he not only insulted my ability as a healer, but also my moral standing as one. My heart was racing rapidly, and I felt my emotions begin to grow out of control.

"She rejected you alright!" I shouted at him, entirely losing any sense of professionalism I had previously had. "Ginny is also a healer, and was assisting me on your case. The moment you came to, looking at her with your doughy love struck eyes, she rejected you, and sent you into a shock that almost killed you. I am the only reason you are not dead right now! So it would be nice if you stop acting like a pompous jerk, and maybe stop to, I don't know, thank the person who remembered the impossibly old, obscure spell that saved your life!"

We were both panting at that point, which was odd, because I had been the only one speaking. It was if we were having a battle with our eyes, neither willing to surrender. I hated him, hated his face, hated his stupid money, and his Veela ancestry, and I hated that I could feel similar thoughts running through his mind. He hated me as well, my blood, my hair, my friends, the whole package, he felt disdain for.

"Granger," his voice was low and gruff, and if I had been any less angry, probably would have scared me. "What the fuck did you do to me?"

"I saved your life." I spat. "And in doing so, probably ruined my own."