Title / Destined to be Mates
Rated / M because I am paranoid
Summary / "What do I have to do to convince you Granger?" He whispered harshly as he gathered her in his arms, taking in her scent. "Don't go. I don't want you to get hurt!" Voldemort and his Death Eaters are ready to attack Hogwarts. Veela!Draco, Mate!Hermione.
Disclaimer / I don't own Harry Potter. J.K. Rowling does.
Warning/ Most people are OOC in this story.

A/N: I'm so sorry for the late update! My exams have just started and it's really like.. woah.

Chapter 21:

The following days after the war were haunting. Everyone dragged themselves through piles of bodies—bodies of familiars.

No one liked it and everyone was questioning the meaning of this war. What have they gotten out of this? Freedom? Was it worth seeing people you love die because of some psychopath who wanted to rid the world of filthy blood?

Hermione sighed and tugged her knee closer to herself. Draco had gone back to Malfoy Manor in a quiet manner, which caused worry to Hermione and Blaise. They hadn't even realized when he left.

It's been three days.

The next morning

Hermione paced in front of Ginny Weasley in their room back in Grimmauld place. She was immensely worried about Draco and though she tried, countless time, to get into the Manor, she was rejected, as was Blaise. "He must've had the wards put up! What does he think he's doing? Locking himself away like that! That's ridiculous. I know he's mourning for his mother Ginny, but…what if he's doing something stupid? What if, hey, he's decided to let his Veela feel rejected and I don't know—"

Ginny merely laughed in response. "Merlin, Hermione, I didn't know you were in that deep."

"What do you mean?" Hermione sighed tiredly as she dropped herself onto her bed. "That I think too much?"

"No—you know what? I'm going to send Malfoy a Howler." Ginny said, leaving no room for arguments as she sauntered to her dressing table to get a piece of parchment and a quill. "I'm going to tell him that you are worried and trust me, he'll come back. That's why I love Veelas—they always want to keep their mates happy."

"I hope you're not talking about me, love." Blaise came up behind his mate and kissed the top of her head, his arms going around her waist, his hand resting protectively in front of the swell of her belly.

"Don't worry, we're just talking about Draco. Hermione's is fussing over him." Ginny smiled. "I think she's at the brink of insanity."

"Please don't talk about me as if I'm not here," Hermione groaned. "You know how much I hate it when you do that!"

Ginny grinned and scribbled a note and owled it to Malfoy Manor. "Sorry, Hermione. It's really tempting."

Hermione glared at the redheaded girl and sniffed. "Just because I was being quiet."

"Draco's fine, Hermione. Trust me. He just needs some time alone." Blaise assured her. Ginny nodded along and leaned into his embrace, nuzzling his neck.

Hermione shrugged and stood up, taking a few books with her. "I can go, you know. You can just tell me you want time alone. I'm not clueless."

Grinning, Ginny spoke with mirth in her voice, "Well, you aren't called the Brightest Witch of her age for nothing."

Hermione rolled her eyes and bid the couple goodbye before leaving to search for her two best friends who, no doubt, is playing Wizarding Chess again.

Hermione found them sitting in the dining room, with the Chess game in front of them, both staring intently at the game pieces. She chuckled and shook her head. They've been going on it ever since the War ended—Harry wanted to win Ron. She stifled a yawn and walked towards the free couch and laid on it. She closed her eyes and let sleep consume her.

"Hermione!" A weak voice called for her, followed by a cough. "Her-mi-ne—"

Looking about, Hermione felt a chill going up her spine. Suddenly, she knew she would not like what she would find behind the shawl that separated her and the sick. However, her curiosity got the better of her. Then, she took a deep breath and walked through the shawl.

The sight that greeted her wasn't pretty. It was Draco, only he looked sick and frail. Hermione stifled a gasp and went to his side immediately, smoothing his hair backwards.

"Oh, Draco," she sniffled. "What happened to you?"

"You're here…" he smiled weakly. "You're finally here."

"Of course I am, where else would I be, silly? Tell me why you're like this! You're fine—tell me you're fine"

"You left me, remember?" He said softly. He wasn't accusing her, but she felt guilty nonetheless—she did leave him to mourn alone. "You came back…why?"

"What are you talking about, Draco? I never left you." Hermione was confused. She could tell he was avoiding the question about his own wellbeing. "Draco, come on, please tell me what's wrong!"

"You rejected me." He whispered.

Harry and Ron shook Hermione awake, with concern etched onto their faces, with cold sweat trickling down her neck.

"Alright?" Ron asked. "You were screaming. One of those dreams again?"

"Yeah," Hermione lied. "One of those dreams."

She didn't want to tell them about this dream. They'd probably be no help. Ginny and Blaise might help, but Draco's coming…right?

Harry and Ron were back at the fireplace after having lunch.

"I think you should just give up, Harry." Hermione advised. "Ron got us through those huge chess pieces back in first year, not you."

"Yeah," Ron boasted. "I did! Give up, Harry. I want to play Quidditch and then Hermione, tell me what the tellyfusion is. Dad brought home one of the fellytone you told me about yesterday."

Ron's been trying to distract himself from thinking about Fred's death with Quidditch, playing Wizarding Chess and busying himself with muggle contraptions. With George away from London to mourn alone, it's been harder. Bill and Fleur decided to stay at France, with her parents for a year or two, to get away from the aftermaths of the war. Charlie was back in Romania, distracting himself from one of his younger brother's death by training with more dragons. Percy, well, he's back in the Burrow, with his girlfriend, Penelope Clearwater, who's trying to lessen his guilt. He's been blaming himself a lot for Fred's death. Mrs. Weasley and Mr. Weasley were often away at Hogwarts, helping the professors to restore the castle's appearance and restoring the multiple kinds of protection charm—you never know when the remaining Death Eaters might retaliate.

The Ministry regained their power—without any imperioused member—and has been trying to round up every single escaped Death Eater all over England. The new Minister that they've elected was Kingsley and currently, he was trying to recruit Hermione, Ron and Harry to be an Auror, but for now, they wanted to live a normal life.

"Yes, yes, you did, Ron, but I defeated someone probably thrice older." Harry gritted out.

"How old is Voldemort? Dumbledore's about hundred and fifty, so he couldn't be older—"

Ron was interrupted when the front door to Grimmauld Place slammed open, revealing a disheveled figure and the blond hair that reflected off the sunlight outside temporarily blinded the three whose wand are drawn.

"Draco?"

"Malfoy?"

The three voices echoed. Hermione rushed forwards and embraced him despite Harry and Ron's warning that he might not be Draco. His arms went around her immediately and he buried his face in her hair.

"You stupid, brainless thickhead." Hermione mumbled against his chest. "Locking yourself away like that."

She could feel his chest trembling beneath her cheek before laughter rolled off his mouth. "You worry too much."

Hermione pulled away to give him a glare, only to have his lips pressed unto hers instead. She could faintly register the mock retching noises the other two occupants in the room made before they left them alone as she kissed him back.

She pulled back, dazed, after a while. "This doesn't mean you're forgiven, you know that right?"

Draco rolled his eyes. That's when Hermione noticed his eyes. Concerned, she cupped his face in her hands and leaned in. "What have you been doing to yourself? Your eye bags are so heavy! Have you been getting enough sleep? Draco! Answer me!"

Confused, Draco gripped her wrist. She hadn't even realized that she was shaking him. "What are you on about? I slept—a bit hard considering you weren't there—but I did."

Then, the dream that she had this morning came back into her mind. Dream Draco's eyes were also that heavy. "You're not…dying are you?"

"What?"

"I had a dream when I was sleeping," Hermione explained. "You were lying on a bed, you looked so, so, sick. You told me that I rejected you and—it didn't help that you were gone for three days! No one heard from you, Draco!"

"But I'm alive and good now." Draco soothed his frazzled mate.

"It's only because he hasn't mated." Blaise explained, coming down the stairs behind them. "When a Veela's birthday get closer and if he or she hasn't mated with their mate, they get exhausted and their body slowly shuts down, by the time it's their birthday, it completely shuts down and well…"

"They die…" Hermione whispered and looked at Draco.

"I'm not pressuring you, just know that." Draco assured her.

"Being a gentleman now, eh?" Blaise smirked and went towards his best friend. "Nice to see you out of your rock. We've missed you."

Draco stuck his tongue out childishly.

"Up for Quidditch? Potter and Weasley are recruiting players and Ginny's upset that she cannot play. We'll be playing 2-on-2."

"I'm in."

Author's Note / I'm so so sorry! The dreams just creep up on my fingers and they come out!

Okay, so I have one lovely writer writing the lemon scene for me. It'll probably come up in two or three chapters on then, voila! It's compeleted!

Please add;;review;;critise;;comment;;alert!

Thank you,
nature love 95,