Please note - all mistakes are my own. I do not currently have a Beta/Alpha to help me correct my horrible grammar.

I do not own the characters created by JK Rowling, nor do I make any profit from this fanfiction.

This is all just fun for me.

Chapter Eleven -

Opening his eyes, he was startled to see a quaint little living room. Taking a step in, brushing the dust from his attire, he took a glance about the room. The Veela in him purred at the smell of Granger wafting through the air. The Malfoy in him hesitated at touching anything. Everything was nice enough, he admired her taste, but it was small and books were littered everywhere around the room. A few steps in and he heard movement coming from what looked like the hallway.

Glancing up, he watched as Granger walked toward him with a mug of tea in her hand. Her eyes remained steadfast to the piece of literature in her hand. What shocked him though, was her lack of attire. Is this how muggles dressed for sleep wear, he wondered as he eyed the barely there shorts, showing off her thin legs and an oversized t-shirt with a giant tooth and some writing on the front. The shirt itself looked thin and was showing just enough of her shoulder from falling open around the neck. He watched as she walked her way through an opening in the wall – to the kitchen he assumed. He hesitated going to her, though the creature under his skin was wanting to feel the soft flesh that had been exposed before their very eyes.

Self-preservation won however, so he called out gruffly to her, announcing his presence.

"Granger." He heard her drop something, hopefully the book and not the mug, before she came peeking her head from around the corner. Her eyes, wide in surprise, beckoned him like a siren at sea, but he folded his arms over his chest, hoping this would help the control from slipping completely. "I believe you have something of mine." He tried to keep his tone cold, but he heard the hesitation in his own ears.

"I-um, yes I do..." She came around the corner and leaned her shoulder against the wall and stared at him. "I-I must say though, I'm surprised you are here."

"I believe you are the one who invited me, Granger," he huffed with narrowed eyes.

She shook her head gently. "Yes, yes I know that, but I didn't think you would actually... show up," she laughed to herself. "I should know better than to challenge you." She unfolded herself from the wall. "Would you like some breakfast," she glanced at a contraption on her wrist, "Or rather Brunch. I was just going to make myself something to eat and since you are here, it would be remiss of me not to offer you any." She didn't wait for his reply as she walked back into the kitchen.

Shock resonated through his body as his hands dropped down to his sides. Granger just left him standing there, and had invited Slytherin enemy number one into her kitchen for a meal in her... sleep attire, or lack thereof. The Veela was voicing its happiness rather loudly in his head, forcing him to shove himself forward toward the witch and whatever she was concocting within the kitchen. The books were, thankfully, stacked up in neat piles, so he had plenty of space to walk, but he still felt a little claustrophobic from just how small her space was.

"You know Granger, I would have thought with the money that the Ministry gave you, that you would be living it up in a much bigger space," he said by way of greeting as he entered into the small little kitchen. A small table sat on the opposite side of her cooking space, giving him a place to sit and watch her as she flitted about from corner to corner. He furrowed his brows as he watched her. He knew that she didn't approve of the house elves doing manual work, but she was a witch. She could easily use her magic to make them a feasible meal. He found himself not commenting on the strangeness, watching her move about instead, listening to her as she answered his question.

"I returned part of the ministry money." She glanced up from her work space at the counter as she cracked some eggs. Brushing her hair out of her eyes with her wrist, she continued on. "We all fought in the war. No one should get accolades for doing what is right." Her back was turned so she didn't see the wince that shook his body at her comment. "Plus, Harry is the one who defeated the Dark Lord. I just helped him. Besides, I had some in savings after selling off my parent's dental practice." She saw the confusion cloud his face. "Teeth healers. I used that portion of the money to buy the shop. I don't need much, but I won't lie and say I wouldn't mind a bigger place." A flash of a smile before she turned away again. He watched her move from here to there to here again, all the while murmuring under her breath. He could hear her, what she was murmuring, with his Veela capabilities, but he remained quiet, taking the time to appreciate the solace. It also gave him a moment to really take a gander at her.

Hermione Granger was thin, thinner than she had been in high school. He had seen that from just his few encounters with her, but she had definitely changed in healthy ways as well. He could see the change in her from the first time they had met at the Gala, she seemed to be putting back on the weight she had lost making her fill out just enough that he could see her curves coming back. Her hair, while still wild, seemed to have lost some of the frizz that used to be associated all through her school years, was reaching all around her. A hint of a smile had stretched out when he watched her huff out a frustrated sigh and throw it up into a messy bun atop her head as soon as she finished cracking the last of the eggs. She seemed to do that more often than not anymore as if the mess of hair was more of a hindrance than anything else.

Hermione came around with a plate in each hand, setting one in front of him, the other opposite and she turned back to the kitchen, returning with silverware and a few toppings. Setting them out in front of him, she turned once more to the kitchen, to come back with a pot of tea and two cups. Setting a cup in front of him, she poured the warm liquid, then filled in her own cup and took a seat.

"The omelet has egg whites, ham, green peppers and red peppers. I don't know if there is anything you'd like on top – I have cheese, salsa and," she glanced back at the kitchen. "I may have sour cream." She glanced back, but he just shook his head.

"This is fine," he murmured and quietly cut into the omelet in front of him. She must have seasoned it a little bit, because he could taste parsley and some sort of spice. It wasn't too terrible, so he remained quiet as he continued to eat. He glanced over at her and found that she was nibbling on her omelet too, but mostly drinking her tea. "You should eat."

His voice must have startled her, because her eyes widened and she leaned forward to put her cup down. Tea had spilled out onto her hand, so she quickly took a napkin to dab at the liquid seeping down. As she attempted to dab at the liquid that was trailing down her wrist, he saw a hint of the scarring along her forearm. A sudden wave of rage rose inside of him, seeing the lettering peeking out from under her sleeve, but he tried to push it down. With precise movements, he picked up his tea cup and took a gentle sip, despite the violence hiding underneath his skin. The Veela was raging inside his rib cage as if it was a jail cell.

Hermione could see the quietness suddenly take over him. Almost like he was thinking about every small movement. She had been lost in her own thoughts as she sipped at her tea when she had heard his voice. It had startled her, making her tea drop on her and she had made quick work of cleaning it up but when she had glanced back up at him there was something lingering in the way he moved. Whatever it was, she could see him attempting to keep it under control, but it was there lurking in the shadows behind his eyes.

"I have to admit... this is weird," she interrupted as she took another swig of her tea. She watched as the clouds seemed to clear behind him as he looked over at her. Not for the first time, his eyes brought a quickening in her pulse. So gray and dark and it was as if he had pinned her down with just that look. "If you had asked me last year, or a few years ago, if I thought my future self would be sitting across my breakfast table eating with Draco Malfoy, I probably would have myself admitted to St. Mungo's."

Draco continued to stare at her. His hands poised around the mug that she had offered. The heat kept him focused. She was right. It was weird and despite what he knew, it was still hard to sit across from her. Difficult because for the past seven years he had been taught one thing and though he knew he didn't agree with it, it was still a habit hard to shake off. He, finally, nodded his head in agreement to her remark as he let his own thought trail disappear to the back of his mind.

"I probably would have cursed someone for mentioning it back then," he admitted with a small smirk as he glanced over at her. He watched as a smile spread over her face. His whole body froze and he could do nothing but stare. The Veela was purring in delight and it was becoming increasingly harder to ignore it. Taking a drink to hide the purr rising up in his own throat, he tried to distract himself. His eyes pulled reluctantly to gaze about her small kitchen once more. Anything to avoid her eyes and her smile. Anything to avoid looking at her.

"Malfoy," she interjected a few moments later. "Here's your book." He turned to see the printed leather bound in her hands. Reaching across the table, he reached out to grab it. His fingers brushed against hers as he pulled it from her grasp. He felt the breath leave his body as a moment of peace echoed in his mind. No rattling from the creature. Just contentment. His eyes flickered to hers to see if she had a similar reaction but she had started to clean up their plates. Sucking in breath, he held as he quickly stood up.

"Thanks for brunch." And he was gone.

Hermione blinked over where he had been then back to the entryway leading into her living room. She had to admit, this morning had turned out dramatically different to any other morning she had recently but she couldn't help the smile stretching across her lips. She was bound and determined to discover if Draco was truly Veela. Something was off about his behavior. It had been since their swift meeting in the bookstore.

Draco Malfoy did NOT seek her out for nothing. She was Mudlbood Granger so either she was his last resort, or he was desperate. No matter what he might say - she was the best. It was common knowledge she could find anything. A small smirk reached her lips as she turned to finish cleaning up the kitchen while her gears started turning with a way to get Malfoy to admit it. It would be no small feat getting the Prince of Slytherin to own up to a Mudblood Gryffindor, but Hermione was up for a challenge.

A/N: Here's your weekly update. I'll admit I haven't been writing as much as I would like and you all are catching up with me. So I better get my butt in gear! Let me know what you think :) I'm trying to show Draco's struggle well but I'm not confident I'm doing that so any advice would be fantastic!

Again - mistakes are my own.

If you do not like Male Veela/Draco as a Veela, you are more than welcome to bypass this story and we don't have to go through all the nasty back and forth... or let me be honest, I'm just deleting your comments. I don't need you. You don't NEED to be a douche canoe to people because you are bored or don't like something. Just skip it.

Happy Wednesday!