Chapter 11
A/N: Hello readers! I'm eating nachos and salsa. Mild salsa. I go into the grocery store telling myself that I want MEDIUM and every time I somehow manage to get mild. It's like I briefly lose the ability to distinguish between the two words every time I step into the grocery store. *sigh*
To the person who asked if June fifth is Draco's actual birthday, I can't answer you when you review anonymously, but yes it is (according to the internet).
I was going to make you wait for this a bit longer, but then I noticed it's been 6 days since my last update... It seems like less to me. Anyway! Here's the next chapter. Thanks to Claire96 and Bulba-chan for betaing! Also thanks to all the wonderful people who review!
~Frosty
"Psst! Over here," a voice whispered.
It was the only sound that echoed in the silent space.
Hermione blinked her eyes opened sleepily and looked around the room. She nearly screamed when she saw a dark figure lurking in the corner of the room, but the person was making frantic shushing motions that encouraged her to hold off the reaction.
"I'm not going to hurt you!"
Despite the reassurances, Hermione still felt better with her fingers wrapped around her wand. "Who are you and what do you want?" she asked, her wand pointed towards the corner.
The shadow stepped forward, revealing a head of golden hair and stylish robes. "Narcissa Malfoy, and I'm here to take you out for breakfast," the woman answered.
Hermione hesitated. "Does Malfoy know you're here?"
She didn't think the Veela's mother was going to hurt her, but she also didn't think Malfoy would appreciate it if he learned that his mother was lurking around his mate's room at all hours, just waiting to take her away.
The older woman ignored the question.
"I received the most interesting letter from Theodore Nott last night informing me of a scene he'd witnessed in the Hospital Wing between my son and a certain Muggleborn. It seems my son didn't see fit to tell his mother that he'd found his mate, and we could stop worrying that he was going to die an untimely death."
The brunette felt horrible. She could only imagine the worry the Malfoys had been going through while she hadn't even spared them a thought. Granted, they hadn't been the kindest to her in the past, but no parent deserved that kind of stress when a simple word from her or their son would have alleviated it. She was going to take that as a 'no, Malfoy has no idea I'm here'. At least the mystery of who it was who'd peeked in on them in the Hospital Wing was solved.
"Now, I'd like to speak with you somewhere Draco can't interfere. Let's go get breakfast," the woman insisted again.
Hermione glanced at her clock. "It's five in the morning."
Normally, she wouldn't have considered it, but this woman was obviously a master of the guilt trip. Hermione almost felt obligated to go with Mrs. Malfoy and talk as an apology for not making sure the woman knew that her only son had located his mate. She also felt horrible for not assuring Mrs. Malfoy that she wasn't going to let him die.
"Not in Australia; I thought we'd have a lunch and call it breakfast."
It wasn't like she was going to be able to get back to sleep after the scare she'd just had, and Mrs. Malfoy wasn't going to hurt her if she wanted her son to survive, so Hermione nodded. "Just give me a minute to get dressed," she said.
Narcissa was waiting in front of the fireplace when she came out of her room.
"Um, Mrs. Malfoy, shouldn't we tell Malfoy where we're going?" she asked. If he wasn't willing to leave her alone with her friends for fear she'd be hurt, Hermione couldn't see it going over well if he woke up in the morning and couldn't find her anywhere.
The older woman waved a dismissive hand. "He deserves to worry a little after what he put me and his father through - and it's Cissa, dear."
Hermione didn't necessarily agree with her methods, but she supposed Narcissa knew her son better than she did. Maybe she'd get back before Malfoy woke up, and he wouldn't even need to know that she'd ever been gone.
They stepped into the swirling green flames and stepped out again in an entirely different setting. Hermione looked around the expensive-looking restaurant with wide, sleepy eyes. Malfoy's family and their secret were really cutting into her sleep time.
She tried to blink herself into a more awake state as they were escorted to a table and given menus to peruse. "First off," Narcissa said the moment their waitress was out of earshot. "I want you to tell me if you're planning on keeping my son alive past his next birthday."
Hermione frowned; was that what this thing was about? It was some sort of bribery and then intimidation tactic? "I've already agreed to be his mate," she said firmly.
Immediately, the woman's face softened, and she reached across the table to take Hermione's hand. "Thank you," she said vehemently. "I know you two haven't had the best history and that just makes this difficult transition all the more challenging. I can't offer you much in return, but I'm here for you if you have any questions."
Narcissa released her hand when their waitress came back with their drinks.
"Can I ask what it's like... to be completely bonded?" Hermione had been reading all about what would happen, but never what it would feel like. She wanted to know what it was that she was getting herself into – not because she would back out, but because she wanted to be prepared.
"It's strange at first, but you adjust relatively quickly – or at least I did. There will always be a little part of him inside your head and vice versa, though his presence in your mind will probably be more pronounced. Once you get used to the odd sensation, it's reassuring to know he's always there."
Hermione wasn't sure she wanted that, it sounded like a complete invasion of her privacy. It wasn't that she thought Malfoy would abuse the things he learned in her mind; it was more that she liked her quiet time. As someone who spent so much of her time alone and quiet with books, she'd developed an appreciation to the complete silence and alone time, broken only by the whispering of pages as she turned them. A voice in her mind would make it all the more difficult, wouldn't it?
She tilted her head to the side slightly as she felt a growing anxiety that she knew wasn't hers.
"Malfoy's up, and he's getting anxious about something. I'm assuming it's my empty bed," she said.
Narcissa waved her hand in that dismissive gesture again. "We don't have to worry about him until he smells me in your room and starts to get angry. An anxious Veela is bothersome, but an enraged one is trouble."
Storing that advice away for later analysis, Hermione nodded. It would probably come in handy at some point.
She could feel that Malfoy was increasingly anxious, but he hadn't yet reached anger. Their food had arrived, and Hermione was half finished before she felt a twist of anger so intense that she dropped her fork.
"We have to get back now," she said with wide eyes directed towards Narcissa. There was no time for explanations, she had to go.
The woman took one look at her expression and shooed her away. "You go calm him down; I'll take care of the bill."
"One more thing!" Narcissa called after her when she was almost to the fireplace. "If you call him by his first name, I'm betting he'll be overjoyed, keep that in mind for when he's upset."
Hermione nodded her thanks, rushed to the fireplace, threw the powder in the fire, and called out her destination without stopping her run. She knew Malfoy would get into trouble if she left him too long on his own; he'd probably end up having some sort of confrontation with her friends after going to the Gryffindor tower to make sure she wasn't there.
She tripped over a burning log on her way out of the flames and ended up sprawled on the carpet in an ungraceful heap. Rubbing her poor, bumped head, Hermione slowly opened her eyes. They widened when they landed on a pair of pale feet. Following the feet up, she met the obsidian depths of Malfoy's stare. He didn't look pleased. In fact, he looked livid.
"Where were you?" he demanded in an angry voice that contrasted with his actions as he pulled her to her feet and started gently brushing the soot from her clothes.
"Your mum wanted to take me out for lunch." She could feel the anger radiating off of him, and it was difficult not to flinch away from his touch – no matter how gentle. The knowledge that he wouldn't hurt her was the only think that stopped her.
"At five in the morning?"
Hermione shrugged. "We went to Australia."
"You could have told me! I woke up to get a glass of water and found that your door was open and your bed was empty. I couldn't find you anywhere, what was I supposed to think? That you'd gone for a nice stroll? I was worried sick!" His eyes were flashing with anger by the end of his rant, and Hermione would have been afraid of him if she hadn't known him. He was impressive when he was enraged.
"Kind of like your parents were wondering if you'd survive until your next birthday?"
"That's not the same thing," he snarled.
Hermione crossed her arms. "How is it any different?"
"I thought you were dead, or kidnapped, or worse. Mother could have-" he broke off with a grimace of pain.
Hermione thought he was being over dramatic, but quickly realized something was wrong when his back arched sharply, and he fell to the floor, writhing in pain.
There was only a slight delay before a bloom of heat started in her back and intensified until it was unbearable. She knew she was getting a watered-down version of what he was feeling and could only imagine the pain he was experiencing.
She focused on breathing as the pain and the heat that accompanied it started to fade. Soon, it was completely gone and she was able to drag herself to her feet. She was still a little shaky, but it was just residual from the pain.
When she saw Malfoy she gasped; on his back were a massive pair of wings the same glossy platinum as his hair. The feathery appendages were folded tightly against his back.
He seemed to realize they were there at the same time she noticed them. Slowly, he lifter them and spread them to their full wingspan, stretching. Hermione guessed his wingspan was close to five metres.
"Bloody hell," Malfoy grumbled. He pulled himself to his feet and swayed while he adjusted to the additional weight on his back. "So... what? I'm just stuck with some huge, feathery appendages for the rest of my life?"
Hermione shook her head. "No, they're like the rest of your Veela transformation; they'll disappear if you just calm down."
"It's kind of difficult to stay calm when you suddenly grow wings."
She knew it wasn't her he was upset with, so she didn't take his abrasive tone to heart. Tentatively, Hermione reached out and ran her fingers over the soft feathers. His entire wing twitched at the contact.
"Did I hurt you?" she asked worriedly, drawing her hand back.
"No, that feels nice – strange, but somehow nice," he murmured. "Keep going?"
Curious about the new development, Hermione was more than willing to explore the soft wings. She stood directly behind Malfoy as he held the wings straight back. It was like having a warm, feathery wall on either side of her body.
Starting at their base where they connected with his strong shoulders and back, Hermione ran her fingers over his wings, marvelling at them. Ever since she first came to Hogwarts, she'd been forced to take the strangeness of the magical world in stride; so now she was more than used to just accepting strange things as normal. Malfoy's Veela heritage had forced her to face more oddities than she'd encountered in her entire school career within a few days. She was starting to feel like nothing could throw her anymore.
Malfoy started purring when she reached the end of his left wing and moved to the right. Once she'd finished with them, he awkwardly shook the feathers back into place and folded them up against his back.
She watched with interest as they sunk into him and disappeared, leaving an expanse of unblemished skin visible through a hole in his shirt.
"I really hope that's the last of the surprises my blood has to throw at me," the blond grumbled, turning to face his mate.
Hermione felt a rush of affection for him; he was almost as lost in the whole thing as she was and his life was on the line in addition to that. Without over thinking it, she stepped forward and wrapped him in a tight hug. She would have done the same thing had Harry been in such a bitter, melancholy mood, but it felt like it meant something different with Malfoy.
"We'll get through this," she said against him chest as he recovered from his surprise and wrapped his arms around her in return.
"What do you say we go have a nap, catch up on some of that sleep we've both been missing out on?" Draco asked, hoping to take advantage of her mood.
Hermione contemplated it. "I'm assuming you're suggesting this because you want to sleep in my bed again?"
"No, it doesn't have to be your bed; mine's fine as long as you're in it."
She knew it was difficult for him to sleep deeply without her presence, and he had just gone through a traumatic experience. "You touch me inappropriately once and I remove whatever part of you that did it," she threatened.
Draco nodded willingly, taking her hand and pulling her up to his room before she could think of a reason to go back on her agreement.
She ran a hand over the sheets, marvelling at how soft they were. Her parents had never been tight for money in her lifetime, but they'd never been willing to spend the heaps of money on sheets like Malfoy's would have cost. It was obscene.
Tentatively, she sat down on the bed and lay back while Malfoy did the same on the other side with more confidence. He covered the both of them with the blankets.
"Don't hurt me for this," he said right before he wrapped an arm around her waist to pull her close.
"Malfoy!" Hermione squeaked in surprise.
He buried his face in her hair. "Just relax, Granger. I'm not touching you inappropriately."
Uncomfortable with the contact, Hermione remained tense. She was trying to decide if he was in fact touching her inappropriately. She may have to lop off one of his arms.
Malfoy sighed, making her hair tickle her neck. He was going to have to take extreme measures. His eyes turned distant and he moved his attention inward.
A moment later, Hermione started to relax. "I don't like you using those pheromones on me," she said.
"Nothing I can do about that, there's no way I'd be able to sleep while you're rigid as a board and we both need the rest."
When he started purring, the last of Hermione's resistance faded, and she let him lull her to sleep with the soothing rumble. Draco wasn't far behind her, drifting of just moments later, still purring.
It was close to noon before Hermione woke. The sight that met her sleep-blurred gaze was a pair of equally bleary grey eyes.
"What time is it?" she asked.
Malfoy's eyes darkened with irritation. "Time to write my mother a letter asking what the hell she thought she was doing sneaking into my mate's room at an unreasonable hour and whisking her away to Australia."
She shifted uncomfortably under his stare. It was annoying, but Hermione just couldn't make a certain nagging question disappear: why hadn't he told his parents about her? She could only assume it was because he was ashamed to be associated with a Muggleborn. Hadn't he made his feelings on her parentage abundantly clear on numerous occasions in the past? Maybe not so much recently, but she found it unlikely that he could just forget his upbringing so quickly.
He tilted his blond head to the side and looked at her with confusion. "Why do you hurt all of a sudden?"
Hermione turned her head so he couldn't stare at her like he could see into her soul anymore. She pulled out of his embrace and moved towards the door, trying to ignore his bewilderment and slight hurt. "I just need some time alone," she said before leaving his room.
It was inevitable that he would eventually hunt her down, but Hermione needed some time alone to get her thoughts in order.
Most of the castle's residents were at lunch so she didn't run into anyone on her way through the corridors. She was heading to the best place in the castle to stare out over the grounds and think.
Despite her fear of heights, Hermione actually liked to sit in the astronomy tower and let her mind go where it wanted. It was as close to flying as she would ever willingly go and she relished the exhilarating wind as it whipped her hair into tangled strands. Later, she'd curse herself for letting it whip around freely, but at the moment she just didn't care.
She sidled up to one of the railings and heaved herself up to perch on the thick stone top, careful to keep a strong grip even though it was wide enough for her to easily sit without fear of falling. Just because she wasn't letting her fear of heights get the better of her didn't mean it didn't still make her nervous to be so high off the nice, solid ground.
It wasn't long before she heard footsteps coming up the tower stairs. She sighed, but didn't make any effort to actively avoid the Veela. What was the point? He could always find her again just as easily.
"Do I get to ask what it is that's upset you, or will that only make things worse?" he asked, coming up to lean against the railing beside her. Her answer was on the tip of her tongue when he snaked an arm around her waist and yanked her off of the railing.
Hermione whipped her blazing eyes to his. How dare he just move her like some inanimate object!
"You're going to fall to your – and by extension, my – death. Why the sudden suicidal tendencies?" His voice was without emotions.
"I'm not suicidal; I just wanted some time alone to think about everything. This is all so fast and when you're around, my brain doesn't work as logically as it should."
"It's fast for me as well," he pointed out. "And I don't run off and hide like a child."
"Sometimes I just want to be alone. That doesn't make me a child; it makes me human! Don't you ever just want some privacy?" Hermione yelled. She wasn't really upset with him, but couldn't seem to stop herself from lashing out at the innocent bystander.
"I used to, but ever since the Veela blood took over, I mostly just want you when I'm upset. I suppose that makes me inhuman," he said coldly.
Hermione winced, not intending her words to be taken that way. "Malfoy, that's not..." she trailed off when she turned and saw that he was no longer in the tower. Well, that went well. With an aggravated huff of breath, she pulled herself onto the stone railing once again and stared moodily out over the grounds.