A/N- So, school's started up again. The joy! Sorry I didn't update earlier, I was on holiday in Cornwall for a week and my computer was also in repair for a a few weeks!

But, who likes the Fall Out Boy themed chapter title?!

Since Draco had arrived early to the train station in Hogsmeade that morning, he had nothing to do but mill around the village for a few hours, and even completed one of his essays that he had to write for Potions. The train finally arrived at 8am, and with a sigh and one last longing look at the castle, he stepped onto the train, took his seat and with a detached feeling, he watched some of the villagers step on for a trip to London.

When he stepped off the Hogwarts express, he wasn't sure whether he was glad to see that his parents weren't waiting there for him or not. As soon as the castle was no longer in his line of sight, he had felt like he was a piece of string pulled taught, ready to snap at the slightest tug, and by the time the train was pulling into Kings Cross, he felt a horrible cross of anger and misery bubbling up in his gut. He knew it was because after spending a few months with Hermione (well, never being over a mile away from her at any given time) his Veela didn't know how to cope without her, now that she had been found. He rolled his shoulders and flexed his hands, trying to relax himself, but nothing seemed to work; no matter what he did, he still felt a sick pleasure of wanting to start a fight with anyone who crossed his path. Draco felt both incredibly violent and drunkenly powerful and despite the unusualness of it, he wasn't afraid – he welcomed it. He was, however, slightly afraid of getting in a fistfight with his parents because of the manifestation, though he was sure that it would more likely be with his father than mother. Either way, he still was glad to have some time to (hopefully) cool off before meeting with them; and besides, he was sure that even if he did have a brawl with his father, that despite being able to throw fire, he would be beaten by Lucius for he had someone to protect.

Feeling like he was, at that moment, drowning even more in misery at the thoughts, he Disapparated from the platform and within moments reappeared in front of the looming dark manor that resided in the countryside of Wiltshire. It was a place that some people could claim was the home of their nightmares, but although there was a dark time when he too had those thoughts, it was always home. It was where he grew up and on the contrary, to what people said and thought, he was never abused as a child by his parents or even in his later years. He was actually, as you would expect from a rich Pureblood family, quite spoilt; he got anything he wanted because he was the only heir and by being Pureblood, he deserved everything. He grew up knowing that that was how his parents expressed their love for him, and though it was sad to some people, it was his family, it was what he knew, and he didn't care. Rolling his neck again, he stiffly walked onto the path that soon had him boxed in by two enormous hedges that had risen from the ground and shortly reached the iron gates. He took out his wand and placed the tip on the swirl of iron in front of him. As soon as it made contact, it started shooting white sparks and he swiftly traced a pattern known only to the Malfoys and certain friends and family members, over the gates. With a creak, the gates slowly swung open and Draco continued his walk to the front doors of Malfoy Manor – making sure that he kept a reasonable distance from the albino peacocks roaming the front lawn, who, disturbingly, have a taste for human flesh - where for the next few days would both be his prison and headquarters for revenge.

Hermione was tired when she woke up that morning, but that was to be expected as after she had gone back to the common room after Draco had left the floor, his laugh and words were ringing in her head, warming her gut a little and making it hard for her to go back to sleep. Eventually she did, but as she threw her legs over her bed and stood to get ready for the new day, she was disappointed to remember that her dream wasn't what was slowly turning into the usual, with her and Draco, but something else. Moreover, it was something that she didn't even want to think about, especially today when she felt like she was on a tightrope just waiting for a gust of wind to blow her off.

It was a crazy feeling, something that she had never experienced before and there was a tug in her heart telling her that it was because Draco had left. That, to Hermione, was just maddening in itself – she was never one to be dependent on a man, and it was strange to think that she now was, because he was a Veela and without him, she was a wreck waiting to fall apart. Even stranger to think that if they were ever a long distance apart again, it'd feel just like this, and that she would be on this unusual emotional rollercoaster for the next few days. If this was what it was like after a few hours of him being gone, she wondered, what would it be like when he returned?

Once she was washed and dressed and had rather successfully managed to overcome the feeling of wanting to not leave her room for the whole day and just curl up under the covers – or even better yet, find some way to enter Malfoy's room – she walked down the stairs into the common room. However, once she started hearing everyone shouting and blaming each other for falling asleep and therefore giving Malfoy an opportunity to escape, she wished that she had succumbed to her desires.

"You were meant to be on watch and you fell asleep!"

"My watched ended at 10! After me it was it was Russo's turn!"

"No, my watch was at 8, but I had to start it early because Oakley over there fell asleep on the job!"

"I was not! I happened to be awake when you started drooling and murmuring Kate's name in your sleep!"

"I agree with Oakley, actually. I even took a photo of Russo as proof."

Hermione sighed and watched as the argument quickly sidetracked from the original point. When someone brought it back to what the real problem was, however, she didn't want to be around them any longer since she was already wanting to scream, tear out her hair and cry; in that order. She looked around for Harry and Ron amongst the arguers, but couldn't find them.

She guessed that they must have gone down for breakfast.

For a moment, she leaned against the wall beside her and tried to stifle a sob as a lone tear trickled down her face, much to her displeasure, and tried to wipe away any trace of it. She didn't understand the sinking feeling in her gut one bit and absolutely loathed that her connection with Malfoy was making her weak. Harry and Ron had gone to breakfast many times before without her, especially since she usually woke up before either of them – she would just catch up with them later and wouldn't think anything of it. It was just a routine thing. But now...

Hermione pressed the heels of her hands to her eyes and furiously scrubbed away another tear that had managed to escape. She had lost all train of thoughts and sight of the world around her, so she was panicked when she felt a hand on her shoulder.

"Hermione Granger," he said coolly, looking levelly at his parents with black eyes. He sat at the head of the table in the drawing room, watching whether Narcissa or Lucius had any negative reactions. He was still looking for some physical relief, he thought numbly as he rhythmically clawed at the table. Draco could tell that his parents knew that he wasn't to be messed with this night, or even any other nights during his stay, and he relished the almost-scared looks that he could see on their faces, though they tried to keep it carefully concealed behind their masks. Nevertheless, he knew. He had been with them for seventeen years of his life and they were the ones to teach him how to hide behind his own mask. There wasn't a doubt in his mind that he could read how they were truly feeling.

A few minutes had passed and nothing else had been said by any of the three, which was driving him into becoming more impatient. Just as Draco was about to smarmily ask if they had nothing to say about his muggle-born Mate, his mother murmured "Hermione Granger" under her breath, as if trying to understand what it meant. Lucius was still staring straight at Draco, watching, calculating, he knew, just in case he became a real threat with Narcissa in the room.

Glancing out of the corner of his eye at his father, Draco turned his head and addressed his mother. "Yes. Hermione Granger," he said, a feral grin tugging on the corner of his mouth. "Muggle-born. Fighter of the Light. Brightest Witch of Her Age. Gryffindor." He stood slowly from his chair so not to alarm his father, and practically purred "Hermione" as he began to pace the room.

Lucius stood up from his chair too now, and walked toward Draco, on the other side of the room. "Oh?" He drawled sarcastically, letting his disgust show on his face. "And how is seducing the Golden Girl going for you? Is it easy, or is she still only letting Weasley and Potter get into her knickers."

"Lucius!" Narcissa admonished, standing up from her seat so fast that the chair toppled over. She was about to launch into a tirade about how the both of them were being ridiculous – it wasn't Draco's fault that it was Granger, so Lucius should stop trying to punish him through words, especially when he knew exactly what to say to get him even more riled up than he was since he had gotten home. Neither of the Malfoy men had paid her any attention though; it was as if she wasn't even there.

They just continued without interruption.

Draco growled, his black eyes flashing, and spun around to face his father. Though his teeth hadn't changed at all since his Inheritance, he bared them at Lucius and with a slight shuffle, unfurled his wings. He flapped them once, unleashing a powerful gust of wind. "My wings have already started changing," he snarled. Lucius's eyes looked down and sure enough, all the feathers from the bottom of his shin and down were white, with some of the ones above starting to grey.

His eyes started to darken to black as well, soon matching his sons, as he too let out a growl and slammed his hands on the table, which made Narcissa jump. "And have you kissed her yet?" He spat. "Has she already started infecting this family?"

Narcissa placed her hand on her heart, willing it to calm down after the slight scare. She'd never seen either of them this angry and it terrified her immensely. She loved them both equally and didn't want to see them ever hurt each other. Usually if Lucius was ever getting too angry, he'd sense that she was getting a bit scared and he'd apologise immediately and try calm down – but he wasn't doing that now, he had gone way past the mark. She wanted to sort this out, calm them both down and try get through this as normally as they could; but she doubted she would last more than 10 seconds between the two of them – and that was only if they noticed her.

Draco matched his father's position on the other side of the table, leaning toward him, hands beginning to burn into the wood. "How do you think it started?" he said mockingly.

Lucius growled again and Draco narrowed his eyes at him.

"Care to say why you disapprove of her so much? We were hardly ever a Pureblood family after all," Draco challenged, sliding his hands toward his father on the table, waiting for the perfect opportunity to grab him. "And she's definitely not your Mate."

"It doesn't matter; you're my son and at least you have magical parents who are as close to Pureblood as you'll ever find! She, on the other hand, was never meant to be magical! No magical parents; no magical blood. Hermione Granger-" He spat the name as if it were poison – "is just some strange mutated Muggle-"

"I'd watch what you say-"

Draco's hands moved ever closer to his father, quickly turning red and growing flames as his anger spiked.

"-that got a surprise on her 11th birthday. At least we've always been here."

Quick as a flash, Draco reached for Lucius's robes, but he saw it coming and struck his hands away with his cane, lest he actually was damaged by Draco's power. Lucius had never told him and he doubted that his son had found it in any book on Veelas, but no mere Wizard could harm a Veela. However, should two Veela's come into conflict (usually for possessive or protective reasons) they would be able to wound and scar the other, and once they fight was over, they would usually wear any injuries with pride.

Lucius even had a few of his own.

Draco was younger however, and therefore a lot faster and stronger than his father was. Lucius released his cane and lunged for Draco's hands that had been slammed to the table, but before he could, Draco recovered and moved his arms to wrap his arms around his father's arm. Lucius released a pained howl as the fired burned through his robes to his arm. Once in his hold, Draco pulled him so that he sprawled on the table and threw a punch at his gut that winded him and scorched the fabric.

In the distance, he could hear his mother screaming both their names, but Draco took minimum notice as the sight of Lucius's white wings enraged him even further.

As Draco jumped onto the table, Lucius launched himself towards Draco so that he was pinned underneath him and the wood groaned underneath their weight. He took great care to avoid his son's hands that were clawing everywhere, trying to catch him. Draco eventually found an opening though and rolled over, so that Lucius was pinned underneath him, his arms held above his head and wrists being burned in the tight grip. He certainly looked like a Fallen Angel now, with his black wings raised behind him and flaming hands that, if you truly wanted to make the comparison closer, you could say was Heavenly Fire. Even Draco's white hair served to look like some sort of halo.

Lucius tried to move, but after he realised that his attempts were mostly feeble, he started growling again and Draco responded in the same.

"I'll kill you - I swear I'll kill you - if you ever, ever insult her face-to-face or even pose a little threat to her. I don't care that you're my father, I won't hesitate to again next time you dare comment on who she is in front of me," he threatened darkly. He was about to continue, but a tugging at his robes had temporarily distracted him, and when he heard his mothers hysterical voice, he was sure that she had also captured his father's attention, but neither took their eyes away from the target. Sure, they both felt slight regret at their fight making Narcissa so upset, but they both knew that this round was over for now. For now, they would do as she instructs and would wait to continue this later; with her so close, there was a risk that she might get hurt.

"Draco Lucius Malfoy, stop burning your father this instant - I know you can stop!" Tears were still running down her face, but now that she knew that she had their undivided attention for the moment, the words were said with strength that she didn't have. Reluctantly, Draco released Lucius's wrists, stood up, and walked down the table away from his father as the fire on his hands slowly died away. With a deathly glare at Draco, Lucius stood up next, gingerly touching the blisters circling his wrist and the handprint on the top of his arm and too took a few paces back. Furiously, Narcissa stared up at the both of them and scrubbed the tears away from her face before placing her hands on her hips. "Now the both of you stop it right now! I'm going to have the House-Elves watching the both of you for the next few days and if they so much as report that either of you do so much as glare at each other, Merlin help me I will have your heads." She looked to each of them, making sure that they knew she was serious. She then turned her head back to Lucius and held his look. "Now, Lucius, it was not Draco's fault that it is Hermione Granger – it's Fate's fault. Moreover, as she will hopefully be part of this family soon, I won't have you insulting her very existence. Granger is his just as I am yours and we both know how much hell would be raised if the places were reversed. Understand that Lucius, and just be glad that our son isn't dying."

"Yet," Lucius muttered under his breath, but Narcissa and Draco both heard him and shot glares.

"Maybe she'll be a blessing in disguise," she said sternly, in a way that he knew that she didn't want an answer.

"She is," Draco smirked. "Just what this fucked up family needs to get over prejudices. I know I already have." He made a big display of running his tongue over his lips to further taunt his father and drive his message home to the both of them. He then jumped down from the table and strutted out of the drawing room, proud with himself, his wings flapping behind him.

Blaise had found Hermione slumped against the wall by the stairs. From her shoulders lightly shaking, he guessed that, though as unusual as it was, she was crying. No one else had seemed to notice her, which wasn't surprising since he figured that they were already awake and in either the common room or Great Hall having breakfast, and it seemed that she was trying to keep quiet anyway. If Blaise wasn't coming down the staircase at that moment, he thought that he wouldn't have known she was there either.
She didn't seem to notice him as he walked down the last few steps and crouched down in front of her. Either that or she just didn't show it. He placed his hand on her shoulder and she jumped.

So that confirmed it. She really didn't know that he was there.

"Granger?" Blaise murmured as Hermione looked up at him with a grim expression crossed between frustration and sadness. She quickly stood up, Blaise's hand falling from her shoulder, embarrassed at being discovered and wiped the tears away, leaving red streaks on her face. Hermione could feel Blaise staring at her, as he too stood up, but she chose to look at the opposite wall, not knowing what exactly she should say in this situation.

Hermione sniffed and her eyes flicked back over to Blaise who was still standing there and staring at her curiously. Not being able to stand in the silence anymore, Hermione asked, "What?"

Blaise tilted his head and gently said, "I was just wondering what had gotten you so upset."

She crossed her arms; her nails biting into her skin to try distract her from her thoughts and feelings. "I don't know. I don't want to be; this was all over nothing," she said. Hermione took a breath and looked around everywhere they were except for his face. "It's all because he isn't here," she muttered, looking down at her feet.

He nodded his head in understanding. He might've guessed that that was the reason, but he wouldn't have been to foretell either that with distance in between them, even if they weren't so close, it would affect her. Blaise wouldn't have even thought that one of the consequences of Draco being away was for Hermione to become emotionally broken to a point that she'd be found crying for what she would call "nothing". He cleared his throat and said, "I understand. But what was it really? What was the problem?"

She narrowed her eyes at him. "I already told you. Because he isn't here I'm this wreck-"

"No, I mean, what – you just thought about him being gone and you started crying?"

Hermione smiled a little at him trying to understand, and was even starting to feel a bit better. Anyway, she thought optimistically, who better to learn about Malfoy from, if not Malfoy himself?

"No," she started slowly, "I figured that Harry and Ron had gone to breakfast without me, but that's not unusual at all," she added when Blaise frowned. She shrugged nonchalantly. "And it just...made me sad. That's all."

"Oh," Blaise said and Hermione just nodded. "Well, I know that I'm not Malfoy and I can't hope to make you feel right again, but if it'll make you feel better for now, I'll go with you to breakfast. I'm absolutely famished."

He grinned at her and she smiled, brightening up for the moment. She stepped next to him and said, "I hope you know that I wasn't truly upset. I mean, if I was in my right mind I wouldn't be. But thank you anyway, I'd love to."

They walked out of the common room without much incidence; everyone was still blaming each other for last night and finding different reasons to argue before going back to the original point. In their walk together, they were mostly silent, but that didn't mean that it was silent around them. The few students that were milling around the castle that morning, instead of staying in their common room or having breakfast, stopped and stared at Hermione, and even whispering about her to their friends in plain sight. The whisperings had caused Hermione to walk stiffly the whole way there and even Blaise was being affected by it a little, though he just walked closer to Hermione and glared at everyone who dared to draw attention to her. He had known that there would be some problems after yesterday since everyone found out about Draco Malfoy's big secret, but he didn't think that it would be that bad - especially towards Hermione. Was there even much about her to talk about, he wondered. If so, then what?

He severely hoped, for their sake, that neither Brown nor Weasley had been spreading anything.

When they walked into the Great Hall however, things went from bad to worse. A loud hush had fallen over everyone who was present and both of them had frozen, not knowing how to handle the unwanted attention. Hermione's fists had balled up by her sides and stomped over to the Gryffindor table as the whispers started up again, and as Blaise made his way over to the Slytherin table, he was able to catch odd bits of sentences.

"I hear Astoria is furious. I mean, mudblood Granger over her? I know who I'd choose."

"Don't tell me you actually believe that Draco is a Veela and Granger just so happens to be his Mate? No, I don't care whether your friend's cousin is one! That doesn't mean that Malfoy's one!"

"Did you hear? Apparently, he's gone home to tell his parents that it's Granger. He didn't want her to witness what their reactions would be like. Little bit secretive, don't you think?"

"I heard that Veela's have to 'bond' with their Mates. What I wouldn't do to bond with Draco Malfoy. Mmm..."

Blaise tried to tune out the conversations after that was spoken by some Fifth Year. He really didn't care to know what the Slytherin males and females thought of Hermione and Draco - especially when what they thought invoked images that he really didn't want to think about.

Over on the Gryffindor table, things weren't going any better. Someone (Hermione believed that it was mostly likely Lavender's fault. She was the Queen of gossip, after all) had been telling everyone some complete and utter rubbish about her unusual relationship with Draco. Those that were brave enough were even asking her questions, most of which she was embarrassed to answer. Some of them questioned whether Draco was as good a kisser as everyone claimed him to be, while others were wondering whether he genuinely was a Veela or if this whole thing was created to hide some greater truth. The looks on their faces when she was asked made her have no doubt that the greater truth they were thinking of was that she was perhaps pregnant.

The Slytherin Sex God struck again, they whispered, and it horrified Hermione even to come close to thinking such a thing. She was only 18 for Circe's sake! There were many, many years she wanted to pass before she wanted to think about it, then maybe have one – only after she was married, of course.

Ron wasn't much help either, believing almost everything that was said or asked and getting more enraged every time something inappropriate was asked to her about Draco. Harry, on the other hand, was trying to defend her honour as much as possible and she was thankful for it. She smiled a bit, reflecting on his attempts to stop everyone from being so stupid and brazen about what they asked, and remembered that Draco had told her the night before that Harry was the only one that seemed to have complete faith in her. However, that didn't mean that he also listened to every answer that she gave, if she decided to give one. But every answer that she did give, was another answer to losing a piece of her friend's trust because most of time she answered, she was defending Malfoy; and it didn't take a genius to work out where most Gryffindors stood on that front.

Luckily and with great determination and strength, Hermione had managed to keep herself from shouting every time there was a surge of anger or breaking down every time something hurt her. It was the most difficult thing that she had to accomplish, she admitted, and she couldn't wait for Draco to come home so that the internal struggle could all be over.

That night, Draco wrote Hermione her first letter from Malfoy Manor. He'd been roaming the extensive gardens that evening after a tense dinner in the drawing room, and scoping out the books on floriology in the library and found the perfect things to send to her.

The note wasn't long, but he thought that the length of it meant nothing. It was what the letter contained that meant everything. He grinned, thinking about her, as he signed off the note with his initials and lightly sprayed a corner of it with some of his cologne. He placed a spell on top of it to make sure that the smell didn't fade as Venus carried it all the way back to Scotland.

He attached the note to the three flowers that he had picked and then attached them to Venus's leg and sent her straight on her way.

He watched her fly until she was nothing more than an inky dot in the midnight sky.

Granger,

These are straight from the Malfoy garden, one for every day that I'm not in the same building as you. They mean mostly the same, but I still sit here and wonder whether it got the message across okay.

The red carnation: My heart aches for you
The primrose: I can't live without you
The salvia: I think of you

D.M

A/N- Please favourite, follow and review!