A/N - Ooh, so here it is: the reunion of Draco and Hermione!
Flashback (3 days ago, after Draco had finishing packing his bags)
Draco looked at Blaise out of the corner of his eye, trying not to mope around as if the life had been drained out of him. He shoved his hands in his pockets as he said, as nonchalantly as possible, "People are going to be talking about her."
From his perch on Draco's bed, Blaise looked up at him, raising an eyebrow. He was rather annoyed at him. Not for any reason having to do with him personally, just the fact that Draco was pacing the room, and yet, still acted as if he didn't care about Hermione. He could try feigning indifference to Hermione to everyone until his heart was content, but he felt it was a rather big insult to do it behind closed doors with him, his best friend. Hadn't he known him for years? Didn't he know that Blaise knew exactly how he looks when faking something? It was obvious to anyone who knew (which was basically just Blaise) that he cared about the witch since, out of his own free will, he jumped her whenever he was sure the both of them were alone in the hallways. However, despite all of this, Blaise decided to humour him. It was never any good trying to force Draco into something; he'd only dig his heels in deeper. "They are," he replied. "You too, technically. Even if you aren't here."
Draco did a half-hearted smirk, as if something was bothering him. Something that bothered him even more than having to leave school for a few days. "They always talk about me; there's just so much to say," he said, then added under his breath, "especially now they all fucking know about me." He then did three more steps towards the bed, instead of pacing the room as he had been, his face contorting into anger more and more with each step, until he reached the post and kicked it as hard as he could. The sound of bone and wood snapping rang out across the room, and Draco let out a roar crossed between pain and anger. He lowered his broken foot until it just skimmed the floor, placing all of his weight onto his left leg. His nails bit into his hand as he tried to stop any tears from leaving his eyes and dropped ungracefully to the floor, not seeming to care about the state of his foot as he leaned back to lay on the hard, cold floor and closed his eyes. When he spoke, his voice was strained. "Just make sure that she isn't the most hated girl when I come back. Who knows what 'I' might do then? Too many potential threats..." His nails made a horrible sound as they clawed at the stone floor. "When I'm not in here, I'll be unpredictable."
"Granger? Be the most hated girl? Don't be stupid Draco; even after all of this, how could everyone start hating her?" Blaise said, trying to reassure him. He tried not to let the shock or worry leak into his voice after witnessing an unusual violent outburst from him. Blaise knew Draco had violent tendencies sometimes, but he hadn't seen any in years and they were never this bad. And, call him mad, but for a second, he was pretty certain that Draco's eyes had flashed black for a second...
His eyes flew open and he half sat up from the floor to glare at him. Blaise studied him for a second before lightly shaking his head. His eyes were the normal, slate grey that he had known for years. "I heard you all talking downstairs," he growled. "There is every chance that horrible enough rumours are going to spread."
An incredulous smile began to stretch across Blaise's face. "And you think that she won't be able to handle it herself? Bloody Hell Draco, she's not some defenceless Muggle! I don't think I need to remind you about how useful she is with her wand."
He ground his teeth together. "Are you going to-"
Before he could finish the question, he collapsed, the top half of his body flopping back to the floor, his head hitting stone with a thud. His eyes drooped shut and Blaise began to panic when seconds passed without him seeing him move (apart from the occasional finger twitch) or take noticeable breaths. Draco, however, didn't register his frantic calls or shaking as he fell through the blackness of his mind and landed in another long forgotten memory.
This one was completely in colour and set in the Malfoy Manor, he noticed. He didn't know what was happening, but he had a feeling of anxiousness as young Draco - what looked like his 6-year-old self - paced around the drawing room. He didn't look much different from the past memory; it was the next day perhaps? His parents were sitting in the loveseat, watching his movements; his father looked contemplative while his mother seemed to be feeding off his own anxiety.
"Are you sure she was a Muggle, Dragon?" His mother asked tentatively, folding her hands in her lap, breaking the foreboding silence. It seemed to him that being called "Dragon" was a pet name. It was more affectionate, Draco reasoned, than his proper name. True, Draco was dragon in Latin anyway, but being called Dragon just seemed to hold some warmth to it.
"Do not...call me that." He sighed gloomily, his shoulders slumping forward. His paces turned ever so slightly into a sulking walk. "I am sure Mother. Dressed like one and everything." For a second, it looked as if he perked up a little bit as he said, "If...If she was a witch, she might have still freaked out a bit, right? It does not mean..."
She shook her head sadly, and Draco was sure that he saw the child's lip quiver, as he understood what exactly it meant. He'd never see her again. Never mind the fact that he had scared her away by using magic, but as someone who was as superior as he by birthright, there was no way that he could continue to see this...Muggle. Unusually, he thought, his mothers face was complete sympathy and if he blinked back some of the tears, he'd see that her face held sadness too. She opened her arms out wide for him, so that he could receive a hug and some motherly comfort as he got over his grief. "Draco..." she cooed as a tear slid down his cheek while he wobbled over to her. Draco watched as his mother tenderly kissed the top of his younger-self's head, as his body shook with sobs. She then turned to her husband next to her, her face concerned and maybe even a little worried, and whispered, "Why haven't we received anything if what he said is true? Surely, we would've gotten a letter by now from the Ministry. Lucius?"
"Not necessarily," Lucius said slowly, tapping his finger on his chin as his eyes slid over to the young boy curled up in Narcissa's lap. A look seemed to pass between them as if they knew what the other was thinking, and the worry lines on Narcissa's face became more prominent as the entire situation settled in her mind. She hugged the boy tighter and Lucius seemed to lull back into deep thought. The last thing Draco heard before he was pulled out of the memory was his mother saying "Oh Hermione" so softly into the child's hair, that it was a strain to hear it.
"Mhm..." The noise escaped from Draco's lips before he was even completely aware of what had just happened – in the flashback as well as the sharp, stinging sensation in his cheek. In the back of his mind, he was sure that he heard Blaise saying something to him; something about him acting as if he had just fallen into a coma, how he had tried everything to wake him up. Draco didn't pay attention through anything that was said – he hadn't even sat up from the floor yet or opened his eyes – and didn't give him any acknowledgement that signalled he had been heard.
Just as Blaise was about to go back into a panicked hysteria again, the recollections of the memory flooded back to Draco and his eyes flew open as he sat up with a gasp. His eyes roamed the room frantically (discovering with some disappointment that he was back to the present) as his brain pieced together everything he knew from the past flashbacks and from the younger years that he was sure that he remembered – and anything, anything, that he knew about the Ministry and Veelas.
A strange noise left his throat as the jigsaw puzzle finally became completed. He wanted suddenly to be left alone so that he could begin to understand everything in greater depth by himself, however, he knew that he owed Blaise an explanation for the odd behaviour, and, if anyone was going to make him believe the fact rather than he putting himself in denial, it was Blaise. Besides, Draco felt like he needed to confide in someone at this point, before he met with his parents in the morning and had to eventually tell them about it – unless they had never truly forgotten.
It was a slightly worrying thought.
"Blaise..." Draco mumbled hoarsely. His voice failed him in the surprise of the situation, but he continued nonetheless, knowing that he had his sudden and undivided attention. "Foot...Fix it, I need to pace."
He looked taken back for a second before he recovered and tried to warn Draco from doing something like pacing when he had just seemed to almost die one second, then was awake minutes later, but he would have none of it and snapped at him to hurry up. He barely noticed the sharp pain that travelled up his leg after Blaise had cast an episkey on his foot, too busy thinking about everything. He was convinced that there was something that he was missing, but going back repeatedly just proved that he couldn't have made any mistake. Slowly, so as not to get a head-rush, Draco stood up and started to pace the length of the room again. "Merlin Blaise," he said in a half whisper. "Merlin. Who would've guessed that it was her?"
Blaise shot Draco a worried look, as if he had somehow lost his mind along the way and was now spouting madness – which, to Blaise, he was. Whatever he said to him only made sense in his head, considering that he had no idea what Draco was thinking. "Her?" He asked. He stepped in front of Draco to stop his pacing, but he merely walked around him to continue on his path. "Malfoy, I don't understand. You're not making sense."
He shook his head, his fringe falling into his eyes before he swept it away from his face with his hand. "No, it does. It does. It all makes perfect sense!" He hesitated slightly in his next step and Blaise took the opportunity to grab his upper arm to hold him in front of him. He shook his head again.
"Draco," he said slowly. "Breathe."
"Remember the other week I was telling you about the memories – flashbacks – that I got sometimes? The ones with the little girl or about the girl that I hear but never actually see?" Blaise looked confused at first, but as he remembered he nodded his head and Draco removed his arm from his grasp, letting out a breath that he hadn't realised he'd been holding in. "I know who that little girl is."
"Mia? The one who calls you Dragon?" He asked, sceptical of Draco's answer. His eyebrows furrowed together and he began to frown. "I thought she was a Muggle. You don't know any Muggles."
The corner of Draco's mouth twitched, wanting to curve into a smile. "Well, I guess that's half true. When I met her, she very much believed that she was a Muggle, but now..." His eyes seemed to glitter, almost turning to a light grey, and he snorted. "Well now some would call her the Brightest Witch of Her Age."
Blaise looked floored. His eyebrows rose to his hairline and his mouth hung open. "You mean..."
He nodded curtly. "Mia is the Hermione Granger."
It was now Blaise's turn to shake his head. "No. No. I don't believe it. She can't be. You would've recognised her years ago. She would've recognised you!"
"Blaise, I just passed out, yes? I had another flashback, that's why. My mother mentioned in it that they had, oddly enough, never received a letter from the Ministry of Magic after I performed magic in front of her."
"That just proves that whoever the girl was, she wasn't a Muggle. The Ministry has records on those who are born magical – muggle-born or not. It's not necessarily Granger."
Draco frowned. "Like they knew that Granger was a witch at birth, they also probably knew that I was a Veela. That means that I wouldn't have gotten a letter about underage magic either or for doing it in a Muggle place. There are laws protecting Veelas – since I was trying to impress my Mate when I showed her the primrose, though I hardly knew what she was to me that day, I couldn't have been warned or arrested. We can't be responsible for any impressive techniques until we come into inheritance, because we most likely won't know better – especially if it ends up being in a Muggle place."
"And your parents? Weren't they ever with you to see this mystery girl? They must remember and recognise her, even if you claim not to."
"No, they weren't. I...often snuck out. There was one time when my mother took me there after I'd begged, but I felt that Veela-Mate bond and followed it to her, leaving my mother behind. Mother may have seen Granger that day, but she also might not have. I can't remember. I didn't remember most of this until recently. I might've spoken about her to them, but in the memories, we never called each other by something other than the nicknames Dragon and Mia. So I don't know whether, if I had mentioned it to my parents, I would've called her by her proper name."
Blaise pursed his lips, but his frown lifted slightly. "So it is Granger," he resolved. "But...is it seriously important? They're just memories, right?"
Draco shook his head, smiling slightly as if he had a secret that no one else knew. "No, no it's different. They're special memories. I – I remembered that..." He looked to Blaise, an unusual spark in his eyes. A sudden manic laughed escaped his lips and he calmed down enough just to say, "I loved her! I was in love with Hermione Granger! Merlin, that's why I wanted to forget every aspect of those memories, because I never saw her again and I wanted to – Merlin I wanted to. I missed her along with all that other cheesy, cliché stuff! I loved her!"
"You mean you did, or you still do..."
The memories swirled in the Pensive, and Draco smirked, sitting a bit straighter in his chair as the head of the Department for the Control and Regulation of Magical Creatures, the Minister of Magic and the head of the Law Enforcement Department stuck their heads into the bowl.
He tried not to look even remotely worried or unsure as the rest of the Wizengamot watched him and Jayson Innes carefully from all sides of the room, just in case one of them happened to slip up and appear to look guilty. Draco though, was as calm and collected as all the generations of Malfoys before him, and while he waited, he entertained the thought of teaching the skill to children of his own. Children that wobbled on their chubby legs, chasing each other around the grounds; their curly (or Malfoy-straight) blond hair bouncing as they ran. Laughter that floated down the halls, filling up the dark silence that Draco had known for many years. In his mind's eye, he saw Hermione and himself, together and separately, reading a different story to the children every night to quench their thirst for books – a thirst that they had obviously inherited from their mother. He pondered the idea of him having to scold them for any misbehaviour, but even in his head, the idea seemed a bit...far-fetched. Call him soft or weak if you wanted, but they were his children and so they were partly him and partly Hermione and he could never be angry with Hermione for long, and shouting at himself was out of the question. Draco wasn't sure if most Veela families felt as he did now and followed through with it or not (he knew that though his parents were loving, they weren't as he pictured himself), but he didn't care. His family were to be spoiled rotten with the Malfoy fortune that was promised to him, as soon as it legally belonged to him.
His lips twitched but he fought to keep them turned into a bored frown. He secretly looked around at the many faces of the Wizengamot and representatives of the departments that were relevant to his case, taking in their expressions and body language to try to see if he could discern in whose favour they were looking. Unfortunately, there wasn't much that he could gather; their faces were as set as his own. He blinked, trying not to change his expression. Once he felt that he was somewhat calm again, his eyes lazily slid towards the opposite side of the room, where Innes was sitting, looking slightly nervous.
And so he should, Draco thought. Though the Wizengamot might not look too kindly into the favour of the Malfoys since the War ended, it was still an offence to purposely anger a Veela – even more of an offence if it were to be through the Mate. Some Veelas, or half-breeds, even had an agreement with the Ministry that prevented anyone from releasing their true identity in a public place. He hadn't known that before this morning, he only did now since Lucius had kindly passed the information onto Draco before they had entered the courtroom; his family, he had learned, was under one of those agreements.
The prospect of Innes receiving a higher punishment was deliciously promising for him. He may have done his research on Veelas as a creature, but it didn't seem as though he looked into what the Ministry did for them, which was, evidentially, a mistake.
The Ministry representatives pulled their heads out from the Pensive and, after eyeing both Draco and Jayson for a moment, moved into a huddle to discuss what they had seen and what to do next, among the three of them. Two minutes had passed as they talked, the whisperings raising at some points – but never being loud enough to discern what they were saying – before going quiet again. During that tense time, Jayson had fidgeted relentlessly while Draco was the complete opposite and tried to sit as still as a statue; after another minute, they pulled apart and Kingsley Shacklebolt, the Minister of Magic, moved up to the Ministers podium to address the court. "The trial of Mr Innes will be having a short intermission of 10 minutes as I, and the heads of the Law and Magical Creatures department, discuss with their representatives present what was viewed in the Pensive and what course of action should be taken," he said, then banged the gavel against the sound block. There was immediate chatter from the occupants in the room that were being dismissed temporarily as they stood up from their seats and exited through the back door, and Draco lazily stretched his legs out like a cat, not bothering to join the crowd just yet.
Standing up, Draco brushed invisible dust off his trousers and then made his way out, walking behind the mob of reporters and Innes, though there was some distance in between them. Once he stepped onto the plaza - which was looking unusually small with the amount of people that was occupying its space – he made sure not to brush shoulders with anyone and carefully answered some questions from the reporters that had swamped him as he combed the crowd for his father.
Lucius wasn't allowed into the courtroom – but neither was Innes' family members, as a new method in the regulations of Wizarding trials where family was unable to vouch for family or even be in the same room – and so went to go visit his old colleagues from when he retained his position as a Hogwarts Governor. Now away from the stares of the Wizengamot, he allowed a smug smirk to stretch its way across his face, horribly happy that Lucius was keeping his promise. After a few minutes of looking, he finally found him lurking around the corner, away from the crowd of reporters who were now harassing Innes. Draco felt thankful that neither Witch Weekly nor The Daily Prophet - or any other magazine or newspaper - was able to publish anything specific about the trial. Even better was that the Malfoy name had to be left off any published work unless they wanted a trial for themselves and their company.
"Well? How did it go?" Lucius drawled once Draco was in hearing distance.
"Not much so far," he said. "They began with questioning under Veritaserum for the both of us, recounting the incident – though they didn't expect much from me after I had said that I'd Changed. Then they took both our memories of the event, watched them, and are now taking a break to decide what punishments to dish out."
Lucius nodded but didn't say anything, taking it all in. He wasn't surprised in the least that they made the decision to have an intermission, since only the heads of each department was allowed to look into a Pensive during a trial because each department had a rather large amount of staff. Moreover, they, at least, were looking at Draco as though he didn't have quite a bad record with the Ministry and was just, instead, another Veela case that they would have to sort out. He wasn't sure how often the appealing Veela lost, but he did know that most of the time, the won. After all, Draco would be superior in most cases, him being the rare male and so would need to be protected and encouraged (as much as Lucius didn't like it) to stay and be with his Mate. Veelas were rare creatures anyway, the Veela blood becoming thinner and thinner as the generations passed through wizards and witches without being strengthened with pure Veela blood again, and so the Magical Creatures Department took a great interest in them. The longer Lucius took mulling over everything in his mind, the more impatient Draco began to become.
Draco raised an eyebrow, waiting for some sort of response that didn't seem to be coming any time soon.
He cocked his eyebrow, waiting for an answer. Soon, his face began to ache from holding his eyebrow up for some time and he decided that if he wanted a reply, he was going to have to speak, apparently. "And? What about you? Did the Governors agree?" He snapped, irritated.
Lucius appeared to be shaken out of a daze for a second, before he composed himself into nonchalance. He leaned slightly on his cane; something else, Draco thought as he eyed the object, that he would inherit. "They agreed to make sure that no Hogwarts professors remove you from the school grounds again until you have graduated and leave of your own accord. However, they think that handing you such a large amount of responsibility to be able to Apparate and Disapparate on school grounds is unwise, especially since they continuously grasp onto the fact that you allowed for Death Eaters to infiltrate the school. They think, given the chance, you would do it again," he confessed. Lucius paused for a few moments, letting the words sink in and watching as Draco's face slowly contorted to fury. A few sparks flew from his hands and his eyes began swirling to black. He continued speaking, giving Draco all the facts before he would have to calm him down – it'd be better if he knew everything first. "Also, depending on what the trial decides for you, they may temporarily suspend Minerva for being unable to provide a suitable punishment for the boy. Anyway, back to the use of Apparation. They are denying it for you – though in time I may be able to change their mind – but I may be able to shift the terms so that the power falls upon Granger. They may be untrusting of you, but Hermione Granger is the Golden Girl and the Ministry looks kindly upon her; they'll let you leave if she has them, since you could only leave with her."
Draco's hands clenched rhythmically at his sides, as he took deep breaths, willing himself to calm down. It wasn't going the way he had thought out, imagined and planned, but it wasn't a complete disaster. He was only ever planning to go out with Hermione, so her having the power wasn't so much of a problem – unless you count the fact that he was sometimes thinking about doing something, alone, as a surprise; and that it would probably take a lot of convincing for her to use them. Still, it was more the fact about why it couldn't be him that held the power. He had let the Death Eaters in, yes, but it wasn't as if he would ever do it again if he had the power to place himself and his family into a safe house far, far away from the Dark Lord and his minions. He ground his teeth together; it was horrifically unfair – especially since the Wizengamot had seemingly overlooked his past actions.
But, alas, he couldn't take everyone to court, he couldn't win every trial and he wouldn't act like a petulant child. That, though, didn't stop him from being angry – the recollection that the Wizengamot members were just through the doors however, stopped him from showing it. "Okay," Draco grunted. "Okay. If it is taking too long to change their minds, offer them the solution of giving it to Hermione. Just as long as one of us has it."
Lucius nodded, and the bell rang for the second half of the trial. Everyone behind him began to file back into the courtroom and Draco waited until he was the last one left again, before nodding farewell to his father and making his way into the auditorium and taking his seat.
Once everyone was seated, Shacklebolt spoke again from the Ministers podium. "I, the Department for the Control and Regulation of Magical Creatures and the Department of Law Enforcement have come to a decision. However, first, the outline of the trial must be read out once again to remind everyone present what the charges were," he said. "The victim who called this trial, Mr Draco Lucius Malfoy, has accused Mr Jayson Ellis Innes of breaking the confidentiality between the Malfoy family's heritage and the Ministry of Magic as well as the laws protecting Veelas. The accusations are as follows: deliberate angering of a Veela by having affectionate interactions with the Mate in front of them. Attempting and succeeding to reveal Mr Malfoys Veela heritage in a public place, and, in added affect, breaking the Ministry's confidentiality between them. The Veela and Mate Identity clause was also broken since the deliberate angering was a successful attempt for the Mate of Mr Malfoy to see what he truly was in the hope of separating them." He paused to let everyone take the time to remember the crimes and give them time to think about whether they would change their mind about the punishment. It also benefitted the reporters, who were furiously scribbling down any information that they could use without upsetting the super injunction that was in place. "Mr Innes has admitted guilty to these charges and after looking through both of their memories and questioning under Veritaserum, we have determined that they have been truthful in their confessions and recounts. We have assessed both sides of the situation and have decided that Mr Jayson Ellis Innes will be receiving the maximum punishment for a student of his age for his crimes."
The Minister paused again.
Draco's eyes lit up and he had to use the last of his will power not to smirk, not to look arrogant and most importantly – not to look over to Innes. It took all of his strength to force his eyes to stare at his utterly uninteresting hands. Jayson, on the other hand, had the colour drained from his face, not realising just how large the consequences of his revenge were. His hate for the Malfoys bubbled inside of him, but with how much protection they had hanging over their heads, any other idea of revenge was futile.
Shacklebolt looked over to Jayson and spoke, directing everything to him. "Mr Jayson Ellis Innes, since you are not of legal Wizarding age, the punishment you shall receive is this: you are to be placed on a magical probation for 4 months. During this time, you are not allowed to use verbal or nonverbal magic, wandless magic nor are you able to participate in any potion making. Because of the complete removal of magical usage, you are unable to attend Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry for the complete 4 months, though after the 4 months are complete, you shall receive random visits from Ministry officials to check on your behaviour. However, since, as mentioned earlier, you are not yet of legal Wizarding age, a tutor from the Ministry of Magic shall be sent to your home where you shall reside until your probation is over. You are banned from playing Quidditch - should you play for the Hogwarts school team or outside league - for any team for 2 months. If you are found breaking any of these conditions of your punishment, you will be expected to come to court again for another trial and, if found guilty, you shall be expelled and may have to be removed from England."
Draco was one of the first to be up and out of his seat, striding to the exit, once the gavel came slamming down once again.
Draco didn't bother waiting for his father once his trial was over, thinking that quite a bit of time would be needed to convince the old governors of anything, and just Apparated to the Manor. He appeared seconds later outside the gates of the great house and wasted no time in doing the combination to open them. He ran as fast as he could up the winding path and to the front doors, where he banged until a House-Elf appeared to open it, then up the stairs and to his room. He'd never moved so fast to pack his suitcase for a return to Hogwarts in his life, but as he thought about being reunited, the anger inside of him seemed to bubble down and be shoved to the back of his mind; his thoughts too busy being taken up with the image and fantasies of Hermione Granger. Clothes were thrown into the trunk and his potions set placed haphazardly inside of it, Draco forgetting in the chaos of his mind that he was able to use magic to pack it quicker and neater than he was already doing.
Nevertheless, it was soon packed to the brim. Once he had managed to close and lock it, he let in Venus, who had a reply to the letter that he had sent Hermione earlier that morning. He decided not to send an answer, however, leaving it as a surprise to when his return was and instead exited his room; he turned a corner and rushed down the stairs and corridors until he reached a large room that housed most of the jewellery that had belonged to the Blacks, his mother's family. There were necklaces, bracelets, earrings, rings, anklets and many other forms of accessories hanging from different places on the wall, every jewel or rhinestone shimmering as he moved about the room. There were so many different things that would suit his love that he didn't know what to choose; didn't know what she would prefer, only that with so much stuff, he was sure that his mother would neither notice nor care an awful amount – as long as it was staying within the family. Eventually he had decided to gently lift an ancient looking, thick, ruby encrusted necklace off its hanging place on the wall to give to Hermione; though he wouldn't mind at all if she wore the necklace and nothing else, he hoped that she'd accept his invitation to the Malfoy Christmas Ball and wear it on that occasion. He conjured wrapping paper from his wand, and carefully wrapped the delicate necklace so that it didn't break from the time he left the Manor to the time he arrived at Hogwarts. With it in his hand, he walked quickly back up to his trunk and began to look for anything else that he might need.
By the time Draco was sure that he was finished, Lucius still hadn't returned. He still wasn't worried, but thought of it more as good news. If he was still there, he was still trying to get them to agree – and he knew that his father would wear them down eventually, he was one of the best for a reason. Nevertheless, Draco didn't wait around any longer to see and bid his mother a farewell, excitement fizzing in the pit of his stomach, before Apparating to the station and waiting for his train.
The longer Draco had to wait for the train at the station, the quicker the excitement faded and the hotter the fury blazed in his gut.
And waiting for 5 hours was a very long time.
When it did decide to appear, he stomped onboard and though he wanted to throw his trunk into the overhead compartment, he remembered the fine piece of jewellery in it and forced himself to be gentle. A few other witches and wizards boarded the Express but they took careful notice of Draco's stormy expression and steered as far away from him as possible.
Another 5 hours later – Draco being in the worst mood that he had ever experienced and taking every ounce of control to not go on a rampage up and down the train – and they pulled up at Hogsmeade station. He tugged down his luggage and began to elbow his way off the train; some of the wizards noticed his behaviour before he got to them and quickly pulled their wives or children out of the warpath, creating a pathway just for him. He exited the train first and began to make his way over to the Thestral-drawn carriage that was waiting for him by the path that led up to the school. He hoped that it went quicker than the train.
Obviously, it didn't take years to reach Hogwarts' entrance, but it felt to Draco that it did. Once the carriage had stopped, he took a moment to look at the unusual creature and thought about, briefly, how even though he was now on Hogwarts grounds, his anger hadn't yet dissipated despite being closer to where Hermione was now than he was yesterday. The thought of Hermione suddenly brought him back to reality, and he immediately stopped thinking about anything other than moving forward into the castle.
The problem with not thinking or taking notice of anything else meant that he didn't put the mask he wore constantly - his facade - back up; and similar to the passengers on the Hogwarts Express, the students hurried to get out of his way when they saw him, lest they be caught up in his wrath. Some brave ones stood a good distance away from him though, and watched his sleek movements with their group of friends, as he glared at every living thing that he saw and walked with determination up the steps into the castle.
He gripped the handle to the birdcage and the suitcase tightly, wondering in the back of his mind why he wasn't climbing the steps up to the Eighth Year common room so that he could put his luggage away before scoping the place for his Mate. The rest of him knew that he had to head towards the Great Hall however, and he knew that it was because of their connection to each other and he trusted it to lead him to her every time. He wouldn't resist the pull even if he wanted to.
Everyone seemed unaware of his presence as he stood rigidly at the entrance of the Great Hall, looking on as most of the students were inside enjoying their dinner. Normally he would be mildly insulted if no one turned their heads to look at him when he appeared anywhere, but today he couldn't care less. There was only one person in the world that he wanted to look at him right now, and his eyes roamed the Gryffindor table to try to see if he could spot his loveable, bushy-haired Gryffindor. However, all the noise and movement produced by the students in front of him was overwhelming him and he only just realised that he found it almost difficult to concentrate, which didn't seem to be a good thing. He'd forgotten what it was like at school during his stay in the Wiltshire countryside (more specifically, his Manor, which he hadn't left for long the entire time), where so little happened: not much noise was made, the only strong smells were of the fresh countryside and the cooking in the kitchen. The colours in the Manor were dark, landscapes he had known for longer than he had known Hogwarts.
Suddenly being there amongst the "chaos" was as if his universe exploded. His senses were being overwhelmed and he knew that it would take a while, as it had before, to reacquaint himself with everything.
Finally having enough, he dropped his bags and birdcage (much to the displeasure of Venus) and yelled at the top of his lungs one name: Hermione Granger. He was agonizingly aware that his voice sounded angry just then, but he hoped that she knew that he wasn't. He hoped with all his heart that she knew he wasn't. The whole Hall suddenly dropped into silence, even the professors had stopped what they were doing, and every eye in the room was on him. "Hermione Granger! Granger where the bloody fuck-"
Just as he was about to complete the sentence, his nose twitched, picking up a most delicious smell over anything else around him. His brain quickly snapped to attention, easily disregarding everything until there was only a complete layout of the school in his mind, with a line showing exactly where the scent was coming from.
His hands clenched spasmodically. The scent filled his senses again – but, this time, it was closer. His eyes drooped, filled with an insatiable hunger. Light, running footsteps filled his ears, pounding like a heartbeat. He turned around and opened his arms to catch Hermione who was coming towards him, not even noticing whether she was with anyone else. By the looks of things, she was only prepared to be enveloped in a hug, but as she came close, Draco smoothly scooped her up into his arms. She didn't let it faze her, and quickly wrapped her arms and legs tightly around his neck and waist respectively. Suddenly, after almost 90 hours of not having her near, she was in his arms and all he wanted to do was crush her body into his so that they became one and would never be able to be separated again. Hermione clung just as tightly to Draco as if she wanted to meld into him as well, and buried her head into the crook of his neck.
He smelt exactly like the cologne on the letter he had sent her the other day.
Draco's hands hugged her body to his as he buried his face into her hair and groaned. She is beautiful, he thought, she smells beautiful. It was only now that his anger had melted away, and there was nothing left now but possessiveness and desire. The same thing happened to Hermione's emotions; her sadness had vanished at the first touch and left her completely content and more.
Together, both of them were in a world where nothing existed except for the two of them, locked in a tight embrace.
"Malfoy," she whispered, tugging at the hair at the nape of his neck and pressing herself more into him, as if it were possible. Draco moaned and moved his hands up and down her body, trying to commit the shape of her body to memory. She felt her skin burn when his hands passed over her body, but it was something she didn't want to stop. He nudged her hair away from her neck with his nose and placed it on her throat, taking in a deep breath of her scent. Hermione shivered feeling the cold air from his nose on her skin and released a surprised moan when he placed a long, languid lick over her pulse point.
He thought that she tasted as desirable as she smelt.
Feeling encouraged by the noises she made, he grazed his teeth over the same place on her throat, trying something different. She gasped against his shoulder, where her head was still buried. Hermione fell into a daze as Draco began to pepper kisses along her neck, sucking on certain places to cause love bites, and murmuring about how much he missed and loved her every few seconds.
After a few moments, Hermione slowly lifted her head away from its resting place on his shoulder and looked at his face. She didn't know what she was expecting exactly, but she was somewhat surprised to feel and see Draco continue his ministrations, all the while, he stared her dead in the eyes as he sucked on a bit of unmarked skin.
Though both their eyes were half-lidded, it didn't stop them from watching each other and Hermione began to feel very hot under the collar.
Once he finished giving that piece of skin attention, he too lifted his head and brushed his nose against hers. It was only in the back of her mind did she realise that his eyes were the purest black and filled with unadulterated desire; it was as if he didn't see her as Hermione anymore, but rather as something else. It should've scared her more than it did then, but she felt as if the missing jigsaw piece was finally placed within her and she didn't want to let it go. He was here. He was here. How could she look such a gift horse in the mouth? She distractedly ghosted her fingertips over the aristocratic features on his face as if she didn't want to break him. Her fingertips fluttered over his eyelids; his nose; his chin; his cheek and the curve of his mouth. He closed his eyes as he breathed in the scent of her again and after taking one last proud look at her neck, which had now been claimed by him, placed his hand on her cheek as her fingers fell away from his face.
He didn't close his eyes as he leaned towards Hermione's mouth, never wanting her to be gone from his sight again. She hesitated at first, as if her mind had gone back to hating Malfoy, before leaning forwards a second later to meet his lips. As they touched, a spark ignited in the pits of their stomach and the air suddenly felt electric. Draco squeezed her waist slightly as he tried to control himself a bit better, remembering in the back of his mind that they were doing all of this in front of a mass of students and professors – and he'd be damned if they sent him away again. The kiss began to get deeper and more passionate, and soon, much to his displeasure, he had to place Hermione on the ground so that he could drag her up the stairs to the common room where he hoped there'd be more privacy.
Also contrary to popular belief, Veelas didn't stop the countdown to their death by having sex with their Mates. The only way the numbers stopped dropping was if the Veela and Mate bonded. The Bonding Ceremony was a ceremony held by a Seer where a ritual where they have to drink each other's blood, is performed as well as other things. Once that happened, the timer on their life would stop, the wings would be completely white and they would acquire certain traits from the other, in most cases.
It would be after bonding being completed that Veelas and Mates would feel a compulsion to have children, it being more noticeable in the Mate after the first month and even worse if they decide to be married. It wouldn't be that the Veela didn't seem to want children; it was just that Mates tended to acquire traits from their partner after bonding, such as the heightened senses and fireballs if the Veela had the trait, and instinct told them that they had to learn how to control it before putting a child into the equation.
Therefore, instead of most teenage boys in his position, the only thing in the front of Draco's mind was the thought of wanting to bond with Hermione and not to have his wicked way with her. As she straddled his hips with their lips still locked together, he was sure that come morning, they'd both be glad for not taking advantage of the other.
Disjointedly, as though he was separated from his body, he felt his fingertips tingle in the same way that happened when the Veela was about to take over his body, but he pushed it to the back of his mind and forgot about it easily. There were Charms on the whole tower to stop that from happening.
He was imagining it.
Hours later, Draco and Hermione lay curled up next to each other on his bed. The window was slightly open, letting the cold winter wind blow around the room and cool everything down. The glow from the full moon pooled around them but they barely noticed it in their comfortable, content silence.
Hermione was the first to break it. "What are you thinking?" She whispered as she closed her eyes, being lulled to sleep by the rhythm of his beating heart.
Draco's arm tightened around her as he smiled and softly said, "I'm just wondering what it'd feel like to have this every night." In moonlight, Draco could see her cheeks burning with perfect clarity and his grin grew even wider and turned smug. He ran his hand up and down her body once more and slowly closed his eyes too. "Goodnight Hermione," he breathed, to which she responded with a quiet hum of approval and snuggled into his chest.
A/N - Okay, so I wasn't really planning for the reunion to be that...intense. But, I think I like the long awaited Dramione goodness! If you think that it should be changed just say and I will, otherwise it will just stay there forevermore!
And I'd like to mention that the primrose that Draco showed "Mia" in the flashbacks symbolises early youth. Though, it could also mean 'I can't live without you', as said in one of Draco's letters to Hermione. :)
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