Hiya!

So this new FF site update? Super lame, not only did I not get any of your fantastic review/pm/fav/etc emails, there are now annoying flashing ads when I pull up the site on my iPhone.

Not cool. The purpose of the site is for reading and that flashing disco shit for scam sites is not relaxing. At. All. And the filters, goodness gracious!

Ok, enough of that grousing, this story is almost to 70 reviews! HOLY SMOKES!...That's so freakin' awesome. You guys are freakin' awesome.

It's all just sunshine, glitter, rainbows, Sherlock Season 3 completion, and eternal happiness in one!

Onward my minions! To the story!

Chapter 10

"A Dragon's heart burns fiercely, even in the face of evil."

S.G. Rogers

Someone had pulled the curtains, darkening the room, a lone lamp lit to highlight the small figure on the bed. She was lying on her chest, back exposed to provide no restriction on her delicate wings. One fluttered with the soft inhale and exhale of her slumbering breaths, the other pathetically unmoving as it rested against her skin.

He took off his robes, resting them against the chair in the entryway before quietly making his way to her beside. While the healers had done a good job closing up the various cuts that lined her arms, back and sides – he still winced in sympathy knowing it would take a few good days to heal. Some of them might leave permanent reminders.

Carefully, so that he wouldn't disturb her, he gently ran his fingertips between the junction of her wings in an attempt to give them a physical apology for what they suffered. A chair was already conveniently placed next to the bedside and he willingly sank into it as he thought about what had transpired.

It never made sense. Any of it. Why did it feel like they had spent their whole lives fighting? They were always up against someone wanting to hurt them either by being ignorant (which he whole-heartedly placed himself in that category as a child) or by being purposely stupid and spiteful. When does it end?

Was their world just inherently cruel because of the power they could wield? Since broken bones could be fixed overnight or a potion could rid the body of most poisons did that mean that their norm for violence was altered? Or was evil just more pervasive in the wizarding race? As he looked at Hermione's naked back, her soft flesh horribly criss-crossed with angry gashes, over something as simple as a job made him ill.

Not just ill, murderous. Even now his hands were balled into white knuckled fists on his thighs as he remembered waking up to being covered in Hermione's blood as that little shit of a wizard rained abuse on her. Unanswered questions did nothing to throttle his fury as he went back over the events.

This was meant to be a field test, why had the Ministry just sat there while Hermione's flesh was hacked away? Then the flippant apology of the Minister, as if this was just scuffle over a misplaced spell. The Ravens had been in place for over 5 years now, since when did Aurors think that they could just simply fill a vacancy? As far as he was concerned, this position was created just for Harry, Ron, Hermione and himself. Almost as if the ministry wanted to keep an eye on the four most potentially dangerous individuals of their time.

He slowly released his fingers from their death grip to rub at the blonde stubble across his face. Merlin, he was so tired. He never expected to have a quiet normal life, but even he needed rest. Hermione did too. They were still coping with the realities of their own situation and needed to come to terms with that on their own. Everything seemed to move at such incredible speeds lately and try as he might, his famous calm was increasingly wearing thin. Were they ever going to achieve any modicum of peace?

Now he was back to square one.

He decided to push the concerns over the ministries lack of action and what that all meant to the side and focus on the witch…harpy…harpy witch? In front of him. He meant what he said to her in previous conversations they had had over the past few days. He was willing to try and could see himself in a relationship with her, but would that last? It wasn't as if things didn't work out they could just part ways. If he understood the lore right, if he rejected Hermione, she would die. That left a lot of pressure on his part.

As much growing up as he had done, he still had his faults. On his worst days his temper was legendary, though if he gave himself credit it was slow to provoke. But that meant he tended to brood, a lot. He mainly kept to himself and rarely went out unless there was something he needed that he couldn't make himself. Hell, after going into Auror training he had completely given up on female companionship.

Not entirely true, if he dug deep enough he would recognize that his rationale had always been that if he was friends with Hermione, he would have everything he'd need. He would get her compassion, intelligence, caring, wit and even her own flashes of anger were sometimes welcome. If she talked, he would actually listen and she would return the favor in kind. He'd had his fill of the physical part in Hogwarts and the scars that covered him were less than attractive.

Being with someone in that manner, at this stage in his life, put him in a vulnerable place that he couldn't even imagine. Some women would see his scars as some sort of achievement for themselves, as if he was the trophy to be won. Others would be reminded of his cruelty he'd inflicted on others and think him deserving of them then the last would be the cruelest, they would mock him for it.

They wouldn't care about his struggles to be a good man or what he wanted to achieve in his life, there would always be an ulterior motive. Did that make him cynical? Not in his mind, it made him cautious. But Hermione was well aware of his scars and she never judged nor prodded. After all, she had her own to worry about.

And that fucking pathetic bastard had just added more.

He held affection for her, that much was true. He respected her opinion and her mind and trusted her with his life. He would never deny he was attracted to her, once he allowed that door to be open, it flung of its hinges.

But could they love each other?

He abhorred arranged marriages. He'd seen the horrors it caused the couples in the pure blood circles, who rarely if ever married for love. They either loathed each other or were cautious acquaintances, living out their lives in different rooms.

He could never do that and he didn't want either himself or Hermione to be put in that situation. But did any relationship have any guarantees? No. Passion and lust could cloud the brain enough to where 5 years down the road you woke up and looked over to see a stranger in your bed. Love, depending on most individuals, seemed to rely on what was need was fulfilled at the time, as they changed, so did their feelings. To him, that seemed just as hollow as the clinical arrangements families made with each other.

Steepling his fingers, he rested his chin on them as he looked at Hermione's sleeping face. If they were going to do this, really do this, they would have to make it a tenuous balance between chemistry and frank communication. He couldn't keep the smirk off his face as he thought that it sounded like a balance Hermione would appreciate, cerebral and romantic all at once.

If anyone could do it, they could.

Feeling a weight lifted off his shoulders that he at least had that sorted, he looked to Hermione noticing that even though her wounds seemed to be healing, albeit slowly, her complexion never bettered. She was becoming increasingly pale and it was starting to worry him.

"Ah! Master Draco! Good to see you my boy!" That damn healer was very, very lucky Draco had such fast reflexes that he probably didn't notice him put his wand back in his pocket. Instead fixing a scowl at the loud odd man.

"How's our resident Harpy doing? Has she woken yet?"

He shook his head, "If anything, she seems to be growing paler."

Healer Richards frowned as he bent over Hermione, opening one eyelid carefully to see a glassy black iris glaring back at them. A lift of her upper lip showed fangs that had yet to recede. He cursed under his breath.

"Stupid me, how could I have forgotten."

Now Draco was sitting up in his chair in alarm, "Forgotten what?"

"Harpy's can certainly benefit from healing by magical means, but the most expedient method is…." He warily eyed Draco.

"Yes?"

"Blood."

Draco frowned, "You mean like a muggle transfusion?" The Healer shook his head.

"No, straight from the source I'm afraid." He lifted Hermione's lip again, "These beauties are not just for scaring the daylights out of people. Similar to Vampires, their body is able to take the antibodies white blood cells from the host and incorporate them into their own flesh with alarming speed. Only difference being they can't make more in the same fashion. What are you doing?"

Draco had already drawn up his sleeve, exposing his forearm and was scooting closer to Hermione as the healer was rambling on. The solution was simple, she needed blood, he would provide it.

"What does it look like I'm doing? I assume she has to be awake for this?"

Healer Richards slowly nodded. "Yes, I can but you must understand she will be mostly feral. And brutal. Her instincts will kick in and there's no telling what she'll do to you or herself."

Draco had more faith in her than that. "Just wake her and leave us. I can take care of the rest." His tone left no room for further discussion or argument.

Pulling out his want, the healer mumbled an incantation and a swirling pale blue light wafted down until it sunk it Hermione's skin. He frowned as he looked back at Draco, "She will wake in a few moments. Tread lightly, son."

Draco barely heard him as he scooted as close to Hermione as possible, gently pulling her hair back from her face and neck as he patiently waited.

Two onyx eyes flipped open to stare directly at him. He could feel the silent growl rumbling through the thin hospital mattress.

Portraying complete calm, he continued to card his fingers through her hair as he kissed her forehead. "We're ok Hermione, you're in the hospital. Far too soon for my liking."

Those black fathomless eyes traced every corner available to her in the room, when she attempted to move, he gently pushed her back down.

"No, you're not better yet. We need to fix that." He cupped her cheek to bring her gaze back to him. Drawing his thumb across her cheekbone he waited until the violent fire was missing from her eyes.

Once he was sure he had her full attention he gently slid his hand under her cheek that had been resting on her pillow, sliding it out of the way until he was easily cradling her head, his wrist just millimeters away from her lips.

When she attempted to draw away, he shook his head and held her to him with his other hand.

"It's ok, I know what you need."

She constantly darted her attention from his wrist to his face, gauging his sincerity. Whatever she saw there must have eased her, for she turned her head and inhaled his skin. The cadence of her growl softening to a mild purr. It took everything he had to not shiver when he felt her cool lips brushing against him.

He immediately chastised himself. This wasn't about him, this was not some arousing experience they were sharing. He was healing her, he was….his mind drew a blank when her tongue drew an involuntary shudder from him.

Opening her mouth wide he barely got a glimpse of her elongated fangs before they sunk deep into his veins. He had expected pain and for a moment experienced very little of it, even when she pursed her lips in a tighter seal against his skin to draw more from him.

He barely felt anything, with the exception of her lips and her delicate throat moving as she took. It was astonishing really. Perhaps it had something to do with their mate bond? He would have to ask the crazy healer later.

He stared transfixed as her wounds began to close and heal right before his eyes. Her color immediately became rosier and her damaged wing started to flutter on its' own. It's steady beat still cautious yet the tear had all but disappeared. Adjusting the sheet as low as he dared he was satisfied to see that there was new pink healing skin.

And none too soon, for he was starting to get dizzy. He leaned down to kiss her forehead, keeping his lips on her skin as he softly spoke to her, "Enough, Hermione."

Immediately she disengaged, closing the wounds on his wrist with her tongue, laying her head in his open palm effectively trapping him underneath her.

Not that he minded. "Feeling better?"

She nodded and licked her lips absently as she nuzzled against him her eyes heavy lidded, slowly closing. Running his fingers through her silky hair, he sighed with relief as he yawned and laid his own head on his forearm. Close enough to rube noses.

"Just sleep, we'll talk when you wake."

Soooo….hope you enjoyed. And may your excitement make you wiggle and kick just as much as my 20 week fetus. (Whom I have now nicknamed 'Riverdancer' due to its' constant activity all day long from sun up to sunset, this child is RELENTLESS….surely it gets it from its' father seeing as the mother is radically more calm than that. Ok, I couldn't even type that with a straight face.)

Buh-bye!