A/N: Hey everyone! A special thank you to marianna79, Jen0318, Parrisblues24, rabradley09, Bamberrr.x, Mary Norton, Aid4, Burungmalam, InsideTheFridge, and the Guest who commented on my last chapter. Thank you, thank you! It was a wonderful New Year's gift!

And thank you to everyone who has decided to follow this story along!

Disclaimer; I do not own Harry Potter

As always, enjoy!

Chapter 10

Hermione stared over Zabini's shoulder at the closed door of Draco's bedroom. As her eyes focused on the door, everyone else's were staring intently at her's.

"You're his healer?" Hermione asked the wizard.

Zabini nodded, "I'm the only one he'll let in— It's really not good, Granger."

Hermione pulled her eyes away from the door only to find Zabini's sincere gaze. "What do I do?" the brunette began, "I—I've never dealt with a veela apart from Fleur Delacour— I dont know what to do."

When Zabini looked away, deciding it was better to look at the ground than it was to look at Hermione. The witch turned to the other Slytherins in the room. None of them would look at her.

None except for Narcissa Malfoy.

Hermione and Narcissa stared at each other for a moment, and Hermione could see the inner battle the older witch was having with herself. After a moment, Hermione could see the determination in Narcissa's eyes.

"You'll have to mate with him— eventually," Narcissa said.

Gooseflesh rose on Hermione's skin, "Mate… eventually?"

"He's too weak to mate now," Zabini said, still looking down at the floor.

Hermione looked back at Zabini, her eyes wide with horror. "What?" Hermione said. Her snapped back to Narcissa, "A veela too weak to mate?"

Silence hung heavily in the room.

Hermione hugged herself, "Why didn't anyone tell me? I would have listened, I would have helped."

Parkinson snorted and Lucius gave the black-haired witch the stink eye.

Nott spoke up, "We tried, but between Potter and the Minister we couldnt—"

"Kingsley knew?" Hermione gasped, anger boiling in her gut "Oh Merlin, I'm going to have to kill the Minister of Magic! What is wrong with these people!"

Hermione took in a calming breath, closing eyes to ground herself.

"You're nuts, Granger," Parkinson scoffed.

Hermione rolled her eyes. She turned to Zabini, "Move out of my way, Zabini."

Hermione waved her hand at the tall wizard, who looked down at her in shock then looked over to Lucius who just nodded. Zabini moved out of the way of the door, looking down to the brunette witch in anticipation.

Hermione stepped forward and put her hand on the doorknob. Zabini stopped her.

"Go in slowly," Zabini said, "his condition is bad, Granger, he might not react exactly well. The proximity should help."

Hermione clenched her teeth and nodded. She's definitely going to kill the-boy-who-lived and the Minister of Magic. She would have to go into hiding but she doubted that it would matter in hindsight if someone died because of them.

She turned the knob and walked in.

What she saw horrified her.

Draco was laying on his side facing away from the door. His blanket was pushed off him, exposing his frail and scarred body to Hermione. The knobs of his spine were showing through his thin, hollow, skin. Hermione could see that her scarf was tucked under his head.

The room itself was a mess; feathers were everywhere and oddly most of the things thrown around and piled onto the bed were her belongings. She could see her shoes scattered around on the carpet, her jumpers handing from chairs and the light fixtures, and even her spoon was on the night stand.

"Get out," Draco rasped from the bed, "I said no more, I cant take it."

"It's okay Drake," Zabini said form behind the brunette witch, "we have you."

Hermione moved closer, almost tipping over a pair of trousers she had lost months ago on her way to the blond. She froze when Draco gave a long groan.

"Her smell," Draco muttered. His shoulder began to shake, and almost immediately he started to heave. It was a horrid sound. "I can't."

Hermione looked back to Zabini, his eyes were watering and he was obviously struggling to keep his emotions in check. Hermione turned back to the sick man in bed and moistened her lips.

"Draco?" She whispered.

Her skin felt like it was on fire, almost like all the blood on her body had been replaced with red hot metal.

The blond froze and Hermione took the opportunity to move closer, navigating onto the large bed, kneeling on the edge. Draco turned his head when the bed dipped. His brows furrowed together.

"I'm hallucinating," Draco gasped.

Hermione moved closer, balancing on her knees, "You're not."

Draco turned away and shook his head, sniffling as he curled into himself. His spine became more pronounced, and the crisscross silver white scars on his back sticking out under the firelight.

Hermione went to touch Draco but paused before she felt his skin, "Can I touch you?"

"Touch?" Draco whispered, "Please, no touch."

Hermione turned back to the for and gave Zabini a look. He didn't respond.

"Why no touch?" Hermione asked, facing the veela once again.

"Hurts," Draco muttered.

"Okay," she responded. She made her self comfortable in the mountain of her lost belongings, laying down flat on her back, folding her hands on her stomach, "I'll be right here."

Hermione stared at the ceiling, listening to the labored breathing of the veela next to her.

She heard the door click shut.

Once Draco's breathing evened out, and began to get clearer, Hermione let herself fall asleep.