Disclaimer: "Harry Potter" is the property of J.K. Rowling. This is written entirely for fun and I am not making any profit.
Rating: I would say a T
I suggest you read Part one before reading this.
Veela Unleashed
- world stopping, world spinning -
He catches her in the kitchens, bare-handedly eating raw meat while –huddled in a corner- the House Elves watch her with eyes big enough to swallow her. The image, strange and grotesque, is enough to give him pause.
Granger, he realizes after just one glance, has no control over her body and no idea what she's actually doing. She's a doll, a carrier, a vessel and the two Veelas inside are tearing her already fragile mind apart. Right in front of him, this woman who won a War with bigotry is at her lowest point yet.
And Draco, watching her decay, feels himself decaying as well.
"Granger," he tries gently, hoping to snap her out of her trance.
Guilt clenches his stomach in its fist and Granger gives no sign of acknowledging him, hearing him, sensing him. For the moment, she's lost to his reach.
"Hermione," he tries again, tongue tripping over the syllables of the name.
Nothing.
"Hermione," he snaps, his hands grasping her shoulders to shake her.
Dead stillness.
Dead quietness.
Dead eyes fix upon him, realization dawns, tears drop down her cheeks, blood drops down her chin and they mix and fall together and drop and drop and drop all over her clothes and all over the floor and she sobs and she screams and she wishes herself dead and him dead and everyone dead and words drop and drop and drop and the world freezes on its axes. Then it drops as well.
She's sick and then she's better and then she doesn't seem so dead anymore as he takes him in, tie wrinkled, shirt specked with vomit, face spluttered with blood and tears, both hers and his.
But she doesn't meet his gaze.
"It's not going to always be like this," he says in a milder tone than everything she has ever heard from him. "You're not some vampire. It's just… you don't eat, Granger. And well, the Veelas depend on you to live."
Her head snaps up, eyes flashing with fury.
"So what are you trying to say? Poor little monster-beings just wanted their supply of proteins?"
His lips twitch at the sound of sarcasm and the tiny House Elves huddle even closer.
Granger seems, dare he say, almost lively as her hair crackles with electricity and her face twists in anger. And with only a week left until the Mating Ceremony, Draco finally allows himself to hope.