knock, knock, knoooock… Helloooooooo, Skyselisse here! (I know, it's been awhile. Sorry about that!)

PEOPLEEEEEEEEEE HAPPY NEW YEAR! I hope you're all healthy and doing fine! :) – Truthfully, I've had a shit ton of work and had a creativity blockade. I didn't want to force it out, so I waited… and waited… AND WAITED… And FINALLY, Inspiration struck! Which was nice, cause now you have a new chapter to read :)

I really hope you like it! Favs, follows and reviews are always super welcome and very much appreciated! xxx

Enjoy your reading! x

Her broken-hearted Veela

Chapter VII: Dinner Party

…

"Even if I have to get them out of my way one by one, my love, sooner or later, you'll belong to me."

…

The entrants had been beyond delicious, and now was the time for dessert. Cups of glass filled to the brim with ice cream and chocolate syrup came flying to the table, looking delectable. Once the cups were set, only the clinking of the spoons were to be heard.

There they all were, dressed ever so elegantly, sitting at the large, round, wooden table. McLaggen, Zabini, Longbottom, Potter and a couple more the blonde didn't care to recognise. Malfoy, of course, only cared about Granger.

There she was, wearing a pale, pink blouse and a white jaquette, her curls untamed, as always. Draco had been discretely eyeing her, taking in her delicate silhouette, and wondering what she'd been up to the past days. His Veela side had felt anxiousness going on within her, ever since he'd told her she distracted him. He wondered whether that was a good sign. At least that meant she had thought about him, and even if they weren't great thoughts, it still gave him this strange sense of hope.

Considering how chatty she could get in class, educating all students around her with her outstanding answers, Hermione had been fairly quiet during dinner. Draco felt the anguish within her grow stronger, but he had a feeling that she wasn't feeling like that because of his presence. It was something else. His icy gaze roamed across the room, analysing each and every one of Slughorn's guests, trying to guess who was at fault for her inner turmoil.

'Potter and Longbottom are out of the question. Zabini wouldn't dare, and McLaggen…'

Slughorn's voice interrupted his train of thought.

"So, tell me, Cormac, do you see anything of your uncle Tiberius these days?"

"Yes, sir. In fact, I'm meant to go hunting with him and the Minister of Magic over the holidays."

Something about McLaggen made the Veela's mistrust grow. His aura reeked of pretentiousness. The way he so nonchalantly mentioned his family's connections to the Ministry, as if to feign humbleness, had a very repulsive effect on the young blonde man. Draco's pupils widened, and he held the spoon so tightly, it bent. Blaise noticed and used Legilimency on him.

'Malfoy.'

'The fuck, Zabini? Are you really using Legilimency on me now?'

'You're bending a fucking spoon, Malfoy, so yes, that's exactly what I'm doing. Mate, you're tense, even though your mate is here. I thought that should calm you down. What's going on?'

'She's not feeling well, Zabini. Something's bothering her, and I think I-'

Once again, the professor's merry chatter grabbed their attention.

"Oh, well. Be sure to give them both my best!" Slughorn then looked at another student, willing to give him his attention, "What about your uncle, Belby? For those of you who don't know, Marcus, his uncle, invented the Wolfsbane potion. Is he working on anything new?"

While Belby was stuffing his mouth with dessert and talking to Slughorn about the doings of his uncle, Malfoy and Zabini carried on with their mental conversation.

'I swear Slughorn is not only a master at potions, he's a master of small talk.' The Italian rolled his eyes, 'You were saying?'

'I was saying that something's bothering her. I swear it has to be Mc-fucking-Laggen.'

'McLaggen? Why would you think that? Everybody knows he's only got two functioning brain cells, one for Quidditch and one for wanking.'

'That fuckwit has been staring at her for too long, she's been fidgeting in her seat non-stop.'

Zabini threw a look at her direction, as if to confirm Malfoy's suspicion. Indeed, Granger toyed nervously with her ice-cream, shuffling with her spoon right and left, and her hazel eyes were only focussed on her plate, trying her absolute best to ignore McLaggen's gaze. She was visibly uncomfortable, that much was clear.

Before he could telepathically speak with his best friend, Slughorn spoke again.

"What about you, Miss Granger? What exactly does your family do in the Muggle World?"

Hermione looked up from her ice-cream and put her spoon aside, all looks now directed at her, especially Draco's mercury stare. She took a deep breath in before speaking.

"My parents are dentists."

Silence.

Hermione cleared her throat. Nobody there, except Harry, knew what a dentist was.

"They attend people's teeth."

"Fascinating! And is that considered a dangerous profession?"

"No… Although, one boy, Robbie Fenwick, did bite my father once. He needed ten stitches."

Her voice was shy, and she let awkwardness slip through. Usually, she didn't behave like that. On the contrary, she was always happy to share more about her Muggle life, and she expected for some of her wizarding comrades to not fully understand such things. Hermione had become accustomed to confused stares and embarrassing silences, and for the most part, she didn't mind at all. – But that was different. She felt like she was being observed, not by Draco Malfoy, but by Cormac McLaggen.

McLaggen, in her humble opinion, was an overly arrogant lad with bad manners, who only had Quidditch, and too many of connections to the Ministry of Magic to brag about. Cormac was too confident in his looks and his charms, and the irony of it all was that she thought that McLaggen made Hagrid's half-brother, Grawp, look like a gentleman. – But sitting right in front of him, she was at the mercy of his perturbingly intense stare.

She was not particularly fond of it: her hands began to lightly sweat, her shoulders stiffed up and her chest felt tight. Draco frowned, really disliking how tense she was feeling. He followed her gaze and ended up staring at Gryffindor's current keeper, gaping at her with indecent intent.

Rage, rage, rage. Utter and blinding RAGE. – A sea of anger overwhelmed the Veela.

From the corner of his eye, Zabini saw Malfoy's pupils completely dilate and his canines enlarge. His fists were angrily clenched and trembling. The Italian then discretely glanced over at McLaggen, thus verifying Malfoy's wariness, as he saw him staring at Hermione with predatory eyes. Blaise clearly saw that Draco was struggling immensely to stay put, and if he didn't do anything, tragedy would strike within seconds.

'He's making my mate uncomfortable! He has to be punished!'

'VEELA, NO! Veela, calm down! Veela, look at your mate. She's right here. She's not hurt. She's just- '

"Ah, Miss Weasley! Come in, come in."

The entrance of Ginny Weasley saved the situation. Hermione's attention was suddenly only directed at her best friend and her red eyes, forgetting completely about McLaggen, if only for a minute. Ginny had been fighting with Dean, she could guarantee.

"Sorry, I'm not usually late."

"No matter. Just in time for dessert. That is, if Belby's left you any!"

Slughorn was heartily laughing at his own joke and lightening up the mood, but sadly, good things never lasted. As soon as Harry sat back down after his strange display of support towards Ginny, McLaggen managed to unleash the beast: He licked his fingers for what seemed a very long eternity, releasing his sucking with an audible pop, gawking and winking at Hermione.

The knot in Granger's throat was big enough to nauseate her. She looked away from McLaggen and was met with Malfoy's furious black eyes. Those were the same obsidian orbs she'd seen in the corridor after potions class, when he'd gently grabbed her chin and ran his thumb across her lower lip. Passionate, determined, lustful.

Draco's entire body was trembling with fury. It would only take a few more seconds until he exploded. Zabini had to find a way to calm him down for the time being, and he had to find it fast.

'Veela-'

'My mate.'

'Veela!'

'My Hermione.'

'VEELA!'

'MINE!'

'SWEET FUCKING SALAZAR, VEELA! If you do anything harsh right now, your secret will be out. All of Hogwarts will know. Trust me, it's not something you'd want.'

'What do I care what people think? I want McLaggen to stop making my mate feel so anxious. He's been doing it the entire evening and she's been extremely bothered. He will pay. Now.'

'NO! If you attack him, you're going scare her! She's going to be scared of you, and that's the last thing you need.'

Draco flinched. Blaise had a point.

'Draco… Veela. I'll make you a deal, and I promise you McLaggen will pay. But you have to calm down and listen.'

'What kind of deal?'

'One that guarantees that no one suspects a thing and that Cormac pays dearly. I'll tell you about it at the appropriate time. Not. Here. Not. Now. Cappice?'

Draco huffed, annoyed, as the shaking reluctantly stopped and his eyes went back to its original grey. He glanced over to Hermione, who looked back at him, a curious stare in her honeyed eyes, as she tilted her head to the side in honest confusion. But there was something more. Something none of them could quite make out yet, but something that calmed him down almost instantaneously.

They snapped out of their minds, as Slughorn was talking again.

"This was indeed a very lovely evening, my dear students. But I'm afraid this dinner party has come to its end. I will be organising more of these, and I do hope you come by."

…

Hermione was the last guest to leave.

Harry had wanted to talk to Ginny, and Hermione, of course, understood and let them both go. Neville had to go to the greenhouses, saying that he still needed to finish off an extra assignment for Miss Sprout, and he apologised to Hermione for not accompanying her to the Gryffindor Tower. Ever the enthusiastic student, Hermione smiled eagerly at him and wished him good luck. Zabini, setting his secret plan into motion, took the chance and went over to McLaggen, dragging him along with him, inviting him to a very expensive fire whiskey. And of course, as posh and dull as McLaggen was, he gladly accepted, forgetting about Hermione for the time being.

Draco left right before her, using the same excuse as her: Slughorn's impressive private library and cupboards filled with exotic spices. The blonde had to make sure she wasn't as shaken up as she had been during the party. Slughorn's friendly chatter seemed to entertain her and she seemed more relaxed. Once he was certain, he left.

Shortly after, she took her leave, as well. The Gryffindor Princess shook her head, what an awful dinner party that had been. Awkward, tense… and full of stares. – Cormac's gawking, she chose to ignore, but she couldn't help but think about Draco's eyes. They changed. Constantly. From black to grey, from grey to black. That evening, they'd been black. Angry. Resentful. Menacing, even.

The brunette frowned. She didn't understand. That hostility was not directed at her. At whom, she didn't know, but it wasn't her. Irritation rushed through her, because it made no sense. Malfoy would usually look at her with spite, simply because she was a Muggleborn, and she hadn't been expecting no less from him that night. But he had not. In fact, when their eyes had met, shortly before the party finally came to its end, there had been no malice in Malfoy's intense orbs. Whatever it was, it had piqued her curiosity, and she debated with herself whether or not she wanted to ask him.

Because she couldn't help but think about Draco's eyes…

'…For the hundredth time this week.' She thought irritably, as she was slowly wandering through the empty, dark hallway. 'Merlin, I'm distracted.'

Hermione gasped, as his voice echoed in her mind: You distract me, he'd told her. She let those words go through her head, just like so many times that past week.

…

Draco had decided to wait for her in the hallway, some metres away from Slughorn's office. His Veela side wouldn't let go of how tense his mate had felt during dinner, and so he was going to confront her about it. He had to be strategic enough for her not to suspect too much, though. Perhaps having a light, casual conversation with slight teasing would help his cause, even though he was absolutely livid about the McLaggen-situation.

He mentally prepared himself for the cascade of questions that would come at him. 'Why are you asking me this?', 'How come you've noticed?', 'What is up with you these days anyway?', and, the one that would hurt his feelings, 'Why do you even care?'.

If it were up to his Veela side, he would deliberately tell her the truth about his situation, give in to his urges and kiss her passionately. And oh, how he'd savour her sweet lips. He could only picture it as the most precious sin, a sin only he could commit, and no one else. – But, as Zabini had pointed out, doing anything too harsh at this stage simply wouldn't prove to be a good idea, as it would scare her off. It was best to ease her in, win her trust step by step, slowly but surely; hoping that, in the end, she would fall for him. Endlessly, unconditionally, maddingly.

Suddenly, Draco heard the click of Slughorn's office door, followed by slow steps. Her beautiful scent intensified, as she went towards his direction, and he let himself become infatuated, inner peace reaching out for him.

Seconds later, she passed by him, looking entirely lost in thought, dazzling as ever. He sincerely hoped she was thinking about him.

The Slytherin approached her. "Granger, wait!"

"Malfoy! What are you doing hidden in the bloody shadows? You startled me."

"And there I thought Gryffindors were supposed to be the brave ones."

"Oh, sod off!"

"Sweet fucking Salazar, learn to take a joke, Granger!"

"Malfoy, what do you want?"

"Can I have a word with you?"

"Look, it's late and I still have–"

"—I'll make it short."

"Malfoy…"

"Please."

Hermione let out a long, heavy sigh. She had been thinking about talking to him for the last couple of days, even more so after this disastrous dinner. On the one hand, she'd become quite tired of awful feelings for that night, and she wasn't sure if talking to Malfoy would further intensify that. But on the other hand, many questions had formed in her head in the past days, and so she was rather interested in what Malfoy had to say.

'And he said please…' Her conscience nagged at her, "Ugh, fine."

"That doesn't sound very sincere." He teased her.

"That's because it isn't. It'd rather read a book."

"Ouch, that one hurt! You'd rather read a book instead of having my company? Granger, ouch, I'm so wounded!"

"You're insufferable." She spat, starting to regret her decision, "Fine. Have your word with me, Malfoy."

"What was going on with you tonight?" He bluntly asked.

"I beg your pardon?"

"Oh, come on, Granger, don't give me that. You know I'm smart. I pay attention to detail. Your awkwardness at Slughorn's was hard to miss. You couldn't sit still, and you rarely looked up from your plate. Quite frankly, it was contagious. Even I kept moving restlessly at some point. It was annoying."

"I hardly see how this is any of your business." Hermione huffed, crossing her arms, "It's never bothered you before. Quite the contrary, in fact. You've enjoyed making me feel awkward. So, give me one good reason why I should tell you, of all people, about how I've felt tonight."

"Again, you're being petty. Don't be so stuck in the past, take a look at the present, will you? Am I being a bully? No. Am I trying to make you feel uncomfortable? No. Am I trying to listen? Yes! So, I'll ask once more: What was going on with you tonight?"

Hermione looked at him in silence, hesitating. He could feel she was close to telling him, considering he was making some good points, but she wasn't quite there yet. At that, Draco sighed deeply and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Okay, Granger. You want a reason? Fine. I find it rather alarming that your so-called friends don't notice when you're upset, much less ask you what's going on, but 'your bully' spots it right away."

"You don't even know my friends!"

"True, I don't. But again, I'm very observant, and so, I know enough."

"Define 'enough'."

"Let's see… Potter and Longbottom were there, and none of them has even noticed there was something bothering you. The Weaselette, as all guests have seen, is very busy dealing with her own emotions, and probably hasn't got the nerve to listen to other people's miseries. Lovegood? She should've been sorted into Hufflepuff, and not Ravenclaw, if you ask me. She's oblivious to the real world. Hmm, who's left…?" Draco made a dramatic pause, rubbing his chin, "Ah, of course, the Weasel!"

"Don't bring Ron into this."

"Why not?" He asked, somewhat darkly, "Do you think he will listen? I hear he's quite busy these days, snogging Brown. But even if he listened, do you think he'd understand? I think not. His intelligence doesn't really have the best reputation around here, now, does it?"

At the mention of Ron and Lavender, Hermione's face darkened, as she felt a familiar sting pierce through her heart, if only for a second. She hid it quickly after that. But, of course, Draco felt the sting as well, fury building up his chest. So that's who had the audacity to hurt her last week. The Weasel. The dense, slug-eating Redhead. Good to know.

'Good to know, indeed.'

"Why are you doing this?"

'Because I want you to be happy. Because I don't want you to be hurt. Because I'll make those who hurt you pay with their life. Because I would die for you. Because you're mine. Because I'm yours.'

"Curiosity."

"Really? Are your standards truly that low that you'd rather have me share my thoughts with you to satisfy your curiosity?"

"Au contraire, my dear Granger. My standards are high enough that I'm willing to be of service to you. You can let it all out and feel better afterwards, instead of bottling it up, while I listen and my curiosity becomes satisfied. It's a win-win situation."

They stood there in silence, in the empty hall, as Hermione bit her lower lip. She was considering his offer very seriously. He'd brought up solid arguments, and she thought, for the first time of her life, that he was right: it was rather sad that her friends oftentimes were careless about her feelings. She'd even make up excuses for every time she knew they hadn't cared. Because they were her friends. They were dear to her heart, and whenever they forgot to ask her how she was doing wasn't meant with malicious intent. – She made excuses, because, this way, it didn't hurt as much.

Draco gave her a little, sad smile, as he saw very clearly where her issue lay. Hermione didn't trust him, rightfully so. He hadn't earned her trust yet, but he figured this was a good way to get on with it. She was so close, she needed just one tiny final push. He took a step closer to her, and gently grabbed her chin, so that they were facing each other.

"Hermione. You can tell me." He told her, as his mercury gaze bored into hers, "Trust me. Please."

And with yet another heavy sigh, she let herself fall.

"All right, well… Cormac can come across as gross, most of the time. He lacks good manners. But tonight, it felt like he crossed a line. Every time he would eat something, he'd look at me with this lascivious grin, and he'd suck on his fork or his spoon, meaning something totally different."

"Like a sexual innuendo?"

"Yes. It made me feel embarrassed, to say the least. And since he sat right in front of me, he was hard to ignore, so I tried to busy myself with other things. Playing with food, looking at my plate, tapping on the table, not sitting still… I simply didn't want to look at him, or feel that he was looking at me."

"Oh," He simply said, doing his best to control his temper. Her confirmation made his blood boil. He took a step back and put his hands behind his back in order to hide his angry fists. He'd been right all along, and for that, he truly hoped that Zabini had planned an evil way to get back at McLaggen. "That's fucked up."

"Yes, well… Hey, Malfoy?"

"Hm?"

"Thanks for listening. But I've got to ask… Why the sudden change of heart?"

'Because I love you. Because my want for you is ridiculously strong. Because I need you, oh, so desperately. Because I hate to see when you're upset. '

"Because it's my fault you were at the dinner party in the first place. I signed you up for it, along with me, remember? I mean, the party, if one could call it that, was genuinely lousy. On top of that, you had to deal with McLaggen. After tonight, I really felt like I owed you a proper apology. I thought that the best way to do that would be to listen to you."

"Thank you, Draco. I appreciate it." For the first time of her life, Hermione smiled at him. A sweet, genuine smile.

Never had Draco felt so elated.

…

WOOOOOOOHO! FINALLY! Another chapteeeeeeeeeer! – This was A LOT. TO. WRITE. BUT! I really hope you like it! :) That's the important thing.

SOOOOOOO. As I said before, favs, follows and reviews always make me soooooooooo happy, they make my day and are very much appreciated! x

Thank you so much for reading, you guys! YOU ROOOOOOOOOOOCK! X

Byeeee ~

Skyselisse