"You can have mine," Pansy said and pushed her plate to Hermione. For some unknown reason, Hermione had bought them both pumpkin pasties in the St Mungo's café. They were smelly, decided Pansy. "I'll eat your chips."
Hermione sighed as her sister presumptuously began to devour the fries on her plate. But, she didn't comment on the muggle's actions. For one, Hermione was quite accustomed to her sister's entitled behaviour. But, more importantly, she felt that perhaps she owed her sister a little leeway, considering the very reason Hermione had invited Pansy to St. Mungo's.
A wave of nausea washed over Hermione. Her lips parted as her fingers suddenly dug into the table and her muscles tightened.
"Hermi?" Pansy's voice sounded out. "Hermi, are you alright?"
Hermione shuddered. Her stomach stirred unpleasantly, like a boiling cauldron of deathly draught. Her body jerked and, from her lips, came the coarse sound of a dry-retch.
"I'll get a doctor," said Pansy as she jumped from her chair.
"No," said Hermione. She held up her hand to halt her sister. "I'm all right. I just felt a little dizzy. That's all. Sit, sit."
Disbelievingly, Pansy slowly lowered herself into the chair. Her eyes scanned Hermione's sickly pale face. "Are you sure?"
"I'm fine," said Hermione. "Eat the chips."
Pansy smiled and dug into the chips again.
Draco clenched his jaw as he watched his comrade thunder around the room. The wards containing them within the Restricted Room appeared to anger Blaise's Veela more and more with each passing second. Mighty black wings protruded from Blaise's back as he pounded his fists against the wall, roaring the word 'mate' over and over again. His eyes were as black as his wings – the Veela side had taken over entirely.
Keeping away from the danger, Draco remained seated on his bed. He watched his friend with mild interest from the safety of afar. He knew from experience that, when the Veela took full control due to the proximity of his mate, it was best to let it play out. Nothing and no one could reason with a Veela in this state. So, he merely watched as Blaise repeatedly punched the wall. The aroma had stirred the rage.
To Draco, the scent was faint and unappealing. But to Blaise, the scent was alluring and powerful, drawing him in. Draco just hoped that his friend's mate was a little worthier than his own. A shudder rippled through him at the thought of his mate; bloody Granger. It was too cruel.
Of course, he could always allow the mudblood to wither away. He could refuse to provide her with his venom. But his Veela was strong. For the time being, he would prolong her existence. At least until he came to a decision.
While he had the power to end the life of Granger, thereby freeing himself from the attachment to his unworthy mate, it was a heavy choice indeed, for he would never find another mate. His life would lack something. His Veela would mourn for all eternity.
Draco had not yet decided which fate was worse.
Healer Strout came bursting through the café doors. She paused and frantically scanned the area until her frazzled gaze rested on Hermione.
"Ms. Granger!"
Hermione and Pansy turned their heads to eye the approaching Healer.
"Ms. Granger," breathed Strout, her eyes wild as she approached the table.
Pansy ran her stare up and down the dishevelled healer as she said, "Yeah?"
Hermione said, "She means me, Pansy."
"Oh," said Pansy, nodding. "My bad."
Strout looked between the sisters hesitantly. "There …" she hesitated. Strout cleared her throat and leaned closer to Hermione before she whispered, "There is an urgent matter in the Restricted Room."
Hermione nodded firmly and rose from her chair. Deflating in her own chair, Pansy drummed her manicured fingernails against the table.
"I guess I'll see you at home," said Pansy huffily, her toffee eyes fixed on the half-eaten chips.
Hermione offered Pansy an apologetic smile before she turned and left with the Healer.
Hermione stepped into the Restricted Room behind Strout and two aurors. Her brown eyes scanned the area swiftly, her wand gripped tightly in her clammy hand. Her bravery was evident in her raised chin and defiant stance, but her heart was beating a mile a minute. Adrenaline and anxiety soared through her veins just as Blaise flew toward her. His hands gripped her shoulders tightly, and his nostrils flared as he drank in her mixed scent.
She barely had a moment to register what happened. Draco soared at them, a feral roar escaping his lips as his teeth extended and sharpened. He shoved Blaise away from his mate with alarming strength. Blake hurled back across the room and landed on his feet beside his bed.
Draco stood before a wide-eyed Hermione, his wings extended as he snarled at the black-eyed Blaise. The latter continued to sniff the air, a deep growl rumbling through his chest as the Veelas evaluated one another.
"Mine," Draco growled, his tense body trembling with rage.
Blaise snarled viciously. Hermione ducked slightly, and peeked beneath Draco's extended wings to assess Blaise.
The Italian Veela stood in the centre of the room, his dark eyes fixed dangerously on Draco's threatening stare. She noted a hint of desperation in Blaise's dark eyes.
"Mine." Draco snarled again.
Hermione's brown eyes widened with realisation as everything she feared was confirmed. Slowly, she straightened herself and placed her palms on Draco's back. A deep growl escaped him at the touch.
"It's ok," Hermione said soothingly.
Blaise curled his upper lip, his teeth elongated and sharp as he snarled. Thankfully, however, he turned and stormed over to the window, placing his hands on the glass as his gaze scanned outside.
Recognising the withdrawal of the threat, Draco lowered his wings slightly, and turned to face his cautious mate with stormy grey eyes. Hermione saw that his Veela side subsided at the retreat of the other. But there was danger still emanating from his eyes.
Stepping back slightly, Hermione attempted to preserve her professional composure unsuccessfully as Draco assessed her coolly. He stepped toward her predatorily, only stopping when her back connecting with the wall. The aurors raised their wands, and aimed them at the blonde-haired patient, prepared to fire hexes the moment Hermione was in danger. But the hexes didn't come.
Draco merely closed the distance between them, his face lowering as his nose brushed against her flushed cheek. He was sniffing her, she realised. Frozen on the spot, Hermione remained quiet as Draco's tongue flicked out over her cheek. His actions utterly perplexed her as well as the other staff members that watched on in confusion and awe. Perhaps fear as well. Strout scribbled down notes on her clipboard, observing the behaviour of the secretive species. Hermione focused on the soothing sound of the quill on parchment.
The touch of Draco's nose travelled further down her face, trailing over her jawline as he growled lightly.
"You are sick," drawled Draco. The growl and low snarl of his voice was absent – the Veela had submitted to Draco within.
Yet, the patient still sniffed and lapped at her. His wings remained extended, shielding her from the vision of the others in the room. His muscular chest was still pressed against her body, trapping her between him and the wall.
"You require my venom," he spoke against her neck, his tone cold and indifferent.
"Malfoy, no –"
Draco growled deeply before his teeth sank into her neck. The sheer agony of the venom blasted through her as a wretched scream ripped up her throat. Her legs quaked and gave out beneath her as the pain consumed her wholly. But, his arms wrapped around her waist tightly, holding her up as he drank from her.
Twitching in his arms, a pained whimper escaped her lips as fire burned through her every nerve ending, her vision darkening as her eyes fluttered shut. But consciousness did not leave her like the last time his venom took hold of her body. She wished she had fallen into unconsciousness, if only to escape the excruciating sensation that plagued her twitching body.
Hermione was so lost in the pain that she didn't even notice the Healer and aurors calling out to her, their hexes unable to penetrate the protective barrier put in place by the Veela within Draco.
Suddenly, Draco withdrew his teeth from her flesh, blood trickling down his chiselled jawline as he growled, his tongue flicking out and cleaning his lips of the crimson liquid. Hermione whimpered as he set to licking her reopened wound, the bite mark healing at the contact. His arms still held her upright as he ceased his ministrations, his heated grey eyes boring down at her pale face intently. Watching as her eyes fluttered open, a groan escaping her parted pink lips from the pain that still buzzed inside of her.
Patiently, Draco waited until the agony dissipated in her body, Hermione's brow furrowing as her legs regained strength. The nausea and agony drifted from her entirely as the venom took its hold on her once more.
Then a fresh wave of sickness washed over her, laced with utter desolation. For, in that moment, Hermione knew. Yes, she knew before. But it was confirmed now. And the horror crashed over her without mercy.
Hermione needed him to survive. Without his venom, she would die.
Hermione zoned out of the conversation. The voices around her were little more than faint sounds that whispered into her daze. She just couldn't fathom how it had come down to this. The despair of what her life was fast becoming destroyed her completely. Hermione, an independent and strong witch, felt that she didn't know who she was anymore. For she was no longer independent. She was dependent. On Draco Malfoy, no less.
"Ms. Granger?"
Hermione looked up at the one who spoke. It was Strout, wearing worry in her weary eyes.
Strout added, "Are you sure you do not wish to retire for the evening?"
"I can manage," said Hermione.
"Perhaps it is best that you return home for the night," suggested Newt soothingly, a kind smile on his aged face.
"No." Hermione shook her head. "It's all right. I'm fine."
Newt assessed her with his wise eyes for a moment before nodding.
"As I was saying," Strout continued, regaining her academic tone. "It would be best to introduce Mr. Zabini and his potential mate in a secured environment."
"The Restricted Room is very secure," Newt said.
"Yes, yes." Strout waved her hand dismissively. "What I mean is an environment that will protect Ms. Pansy Granger during the first encounter."
Newt said, "Perhaps if we place wards shielding Ms. Pansy Granger prior to their meeting, it will ensure her protection."
"The wards do not seem to have an effect on the Veelas," Hermione argued. "When their wings are extended, the hexes are futile."
"The wards in place in the Restricted Room serve their purpose. Perhaps we will be able to reduce the area covered to half of the room prior to your sister's entrance. It will ensure that Mr. Zabini cannot cross the threshold and bond with her straight away." Strout explained.
"That is assuming that Ms. Granger is, in fact, Mr. Zabini's mate," Newt countered.
"I hope she isn't," Hermione murmured, rubbing her hands over her face. "But it's looking rather likely."
Strout nodded as Newt agreed, "It would appear so. However, we cannot operate on speculation. The Veelas are patients of ours. They are under our care and protection. If we do not locate the second Veela's mate, and he cannot bond with her, he will die."
"What exactly will be the next step if she is his mate?" Hermione asked.
"Our chief priority is returning Mr. Zabini to full health," Strout answered, averting her eyes from Hermione. "Without the bonding ceremony with his mate, the patient will perish. That is not a fate we can permit for any patient, particularly when it is in our power to prevent it."
"Assuming that Ms. Granger is the patient's mate and the bonding ceremony is consented to and completed," Newt began, his professionalism back in place, "what will be the succeeding step?"
"Mr. Zabini will be transferred to Occultam Domum along with Mr. Malfoy." Strout answered. "Ms. Granger will join them."
"Which one?" asked Newt as he smiled weakly.
"Both." Strout answered. "I cannot claim to be content with permitting a muggle to enter Occultam Domum. Though, I do not see an alternative."
Emitting a weary sigh, Hermione nodded meekly, consenting to the proposition. Her professional duties and vows ensured that she conducted herself in a manner that would protect her patients. But her heart battled that ferociously, her protective side emerging for her sister.
While Pansy was a confident woman, Hermione knew there was so much more to her than that. Not necessarily good traits either. Pansy, underneath it all, was a fragile muggle, particularly when compared to the threat of Veelas and the other creatures at Occultam Domum. Pansy was the exact opposite of Hermione, inside and out. So, Hermione felt a tremendous amount of angst and guilt at the situation she would be putting her sister in. A situation with potentially dire consequences.
Blaise stood at the window, his wings extended, his eyes as black as the night sky as an animalistic roar tore through the room. His head fell back as he roared over and over again at the scene he was witnessing. The mudblood dragged a beautiful brunette up the stone pathway toward St. Mungo's. The mysterious woman's black hair curtained her refined features, and her deep brown eyes shone with alarm. Blaise knew it instantly. The pretty woman was his mate.
An approving growl rippled through him as his dark eyes scanned the girl. Poker-straight tresses framed her face, large brown doe-eyes sparkled through the distance separating them. Porcelain skin, apparently as flawless as her plump lips. Slender, thin, and tall. He would have to be gentle with his little mate.
Disappointment lit up inside of Blaise, however, despite the Veela taking over him. He knew she was not a pureblood, for he knew all purebloods in Europe. But, in his assessment of her, he concluded that she would be a half-blood. It was better than a muggle-born, that was for sure. Perhaps it wasn't so bad. What she lacked in blood purity, she made up for in appearance. Regardless, his Veela would find her alluring and attractive even if she was a wart-covered hog. Thankfully, both his inner self and the Veela agreed on her attractiveness.
"Hermi!" Pansy snapped, attempting to yank her wrist from her sister's vice-like grip. "I don't want to! Let me go!"
Hermione huffed in annoyance at her sister's cowardice, frankly quite tired of hauling her through the hospice. Pansy stuck her stilettoes into the ground, the heels scraping against the floor. Her body was curved into a 'c' shape as her sister dragged her through the corridors.
"Hermi, wait!" Pansy shouted, her free hand trying to pry Hermione's fingers from her wrist. "I left my phone in the car!"
"You don't own a car." Hermione huffed, yanking her reluctant sister along. "And we apparated here."
Pansy groaned, her heels scraping along the tiles as she was dragged ungracefully by her determined sister. They reached the corridor, empty and restricted.
"Ms. Granger … and Ms. Granger," greeted Strout with a smile. She stood outside of the Restricted Room, and her smile faltered as she observed Pansy's lack of enthusiasm.
"She's fine." Hermione assured, referring to her sister.
Strout observed Pansy's fear before she suggested, "Perhaps another day, Ms Granger. It seems that your sister may need time to … adjust."
"Yes," Pansy agreed, instantly ceasing her poor escape efforts. "Another time. Sounds wonderful."
Hermione hissed, yanking her sister closer to her. "We'll do it now, Pansy. Stop being a child!"
Suddenly, a feral roar came from the vibrating door in front of her.
Pansy froze. Her wide toffee eyes locked onto the white steel door. Shakily, she uttered, "Fuck that."
Pansy resumed her previous efforts to flee. Hermione rolled her eyes before she aimed her wand at her sister.
"Enough!" Hermione snapped. Pansy tensed at the sight of the wand. "You only have to meet him, that's all! We just need to know if you're his mate. There are wards in place to protect you. He can't touch you. Stay away from the wards, and you'll be fine."
Another roar sounded out. Pansy squealed and pulled against her sister's hold. Hermione smirked before releasing her grip on her wrist. The muggle immediately fell to the ground on her bottom with a slight thud.
"Sorry, sis," Hermione said, waving her wand elegantly. "Wingardium Leviosa."
A squeal escaped Pansy's lips as she lifted in the air. "PUT ME DOWN!"
"Nothing's going to happen, Pansy. It's only a meeting. You're working yourself up over nothing." Hermione said as a thin-lipped Strout opened the door reluctantly.
Hermione flicked her wand and levitated Pansy through the threshold.
"Agh!" Pansy squealed and squirmed. "Hermi! Hermi, let me down!"
The door shut firmly behind them. The atmosphere tensed as Pansy was brought back down to the ground. Her heels clacked as she stumbled slightly and regained her balance.
They had entered the Restricted Room.