Chapter Sixteen: A Dance on a Lake

There was little that would stop Hermione as she made her way swiftly across the castle, and onto the cold grounds outside. It had been nearly breakfast when she had entered Professor Snape's living quarters. As she emerged into the unforgiving December air, the sun had long ago set, indicating the passage of another day. It had just been hours ago when she had entered Snape's quarters, but it felt like a lifetime.

It certainly felt like one life had ended and another began as she left the room, numb and unable to process all that had been divulged and discussed over the course of a most-trying day. The concept of time was nothing new to her. It was precious and yet, fleeting as she continued on the road to nowhere; but she suddenly needed more time, or a time turner to turn back the clock.

Rigth now, she focused on her need to get out of that room; the room where her innocence had been left behind. She quickly scanned possible avenues, alternatives the men in the room must have missed, but they all concluded with the same ending.

Draco.

And the overwhelming realization was that she could not leave him to his fate. Morally, she could have wrestled with it. But her Veela would not stand for it.

The object of her jumbled thoughts shouted from behind, "Hermione!"

Her heart stitched at his call, but she continued walking in the frigid air. The frost that numbed her from the outside, perfectly mirrored the detached shock from within. How could she face him after this? He was sure to learn the truth now. Her overly concerned statements from earlier. The fierceness in which she argued back with her Headmaster. The way she had almost went into a blind rage at the thought of them putting her mate in harm's way.

Quick footsteps approached. "Hermione, wait!" A rare plea from him. The being within warred to slow the witch's steps, but Hermione persisted on her path. This would change everything, she thought. There would be no coming back from this.

She could hear Draco catching up, and when he was close enough, she turned to him in righteous anger, "Were you ever going to tell me?!" The accusation cut like acid, but she relished in it. Because buried beneath the accusation was hurt and fear. Would her mate really do such a thing? Did he know that this could tear them apart before 'they' ever began?

Draco also had nothing but the clothes on his back, indicating he must have left shortly after she. His nose and ears were smudged red and he huffed clouds of visible vapor from the exertion, but his silence said more than he ever could.

She shook her head, the disappointment clear. She thought something between them had started to shift. "I can't honestly say I'm surprised."

A gust of wind clipped his hair forward into his eyes, and hers away from her face. "It wasn't for you to know," he stressed, hands balled by his side.

She turned with the wind and continued her journey to nowhere, rudely ending the brief encounter.

But Draco would not be deterred, and followed behind her, speaking to her back, "We were hardly on speaking terms at the beginning of the year. You, as well as I, knew our paths were never meant to cross. If not for our families' arrangement, we'd be on little more than civil terms."

She snorted her agreement.

He quickly matched her pace, though she supposed he could have at any time. He purposefully gave her room as he walked alongside her. "After my mother informed me of the marriage contract this summer, Severus approached me shortly thereafter with a proposal. I knew you'd fight the arrangement tooth and nail given our history, but perhaps there could be a way for us to be, properly."

She bit her lip as she marched straight ahead in defiant anger, but ever attentive. "So, you thought lying to me would be the best way?"

He stopped her then with a quick catch of the elbow, forcing her to swing around and face him. He stared down at her, the fierceness of the wind around them was no match for the storminess caught within his eyes. "You and I both know a war is coming, and we could never properly be with it hanging over our heads. My family and yours are squarely on opposite ends of that war…"

"But we don't have to be!" she pressed the issue once more. Back in Snape's quarters, it had been shot down then and he shot it down now.

Draco continued, undeterred, "…And logically our loyalties are the likewise divided. It remains this relationship's biggest obstacle. Severus told me one way to move past our history. So I made a choice."

Hermione wanted to scream at him that it was the wrong choice. That he had other options. Something made her choke down the words because she wanted to understand. Then again, silence was never her strong suit as she shouted over the wind, "So you made a choice to follow a madman who would see me and my friends killed?!"

"I made a choice to end this bloody war for once and for all! Don't you see?" Draco sighed at her strained silence, before continuing a bit tired, and maybe a bit confused as she, "Maybe then, afterwards … there could be a possibility … and we could have what our parents' once hoped for," he finished, standing there silently as the wind whipped about his clothes.

Just what did their parents hope for, Hermione wondered. Kingsley tried his best to explain what he wanted for his daughter when he agreed to Lucius Malfoy's proposition all those years ago. But what did the Malfoys want: status, pureblood progeny, more galleons to add to their growing fortune? There was a piece missing here, she could feel it. And once again she grew despondent that she had not been privy to this information and her biological parents since birth. Because while she was still learning, Draco already knew what was required of him. Then a flash of a memory brought an idea to her. She met his gaze across the distance. "Do you think you can find the memory of when we first met?" She swallowed, and lifted her index to her temple, "Here?"

"What?"

She closed her eyes and concentrated, visualized herself searching deep within. "It'd have to had been shortly after your birth in June, but before my mother and I were attacked in the fall. I would have been nearly a year-old." She re-opened her eyes to find him peering at her in uncertainty.

"The last time I did…" he trailed off, clearly recalling how she had attacked in anger.

She exhaled, and nodded. "This time, you have my permission." She trusted Draco to do it, he was a skillful Legilimens. "Please. I need to see something."

He stuck his tongue between his teeth, ever guarded. "Are you sure?"

"Yes," she breathed, as she closed her eyes once more. She could hear the night wind shuffling overhead, the distant calls of animals beyond the forest's edge, and Draco as he exhaled softly over her head. When had he had moved closer?

"Are you thinking about me?" he whispered.

Truthfully, she answered, "Yes."

"Good." There was a hint of smugness there, but she did not call him on it. "Hold it," he instructed. "Think of Kingsley and Marie. Can you picture them in your mind's eye?"

She nodded, feeling the tip of his Hawthorn wand lightly touch her temple. "Yes."

He whispered a fraction above her eyes, "Legilimens!"

The small party was having a picnic. Summer had yet to wane as two witches, dressed in white tea length dresses, set two infants on an expansive blanket spread on the green grass. An elf did his best to mind the infants, but at nearly one year-old and three months, there wasn't far either could go rather quickly.

The almost-toddler aged girl dressed in a fine yarn dress, sat clapping excitedly at the elf's display of magic, while a three month-old blond boy pushed an unsteady head from the floor. The boy stared at the girl as she grabbed at the butterfly the elf had created with a snap of his finger.

Mere steps away, the women in white, Marie Shacklebolt and Narcissa Malfoy smiled proudly and joyfully at the children on the blanket, as they pointed and waved to their children. Close by under the shade of a large Elm, ever watchful over their families, stood the regal and proud Kingsley Shacklebolt and Lucius Malfoy as they sipped on a beverage. The two men were immersed in light conversation, evidenced by sly smiles and easy eyes.

"Draco has just learned to roll-over, Marie," Narcissa gushed, proud of her son latest's development. Narcissa dropped to an elegant squat as she cooed to her son, "Here, darling," she called from behind the two children. "Mummy's over here."

As expected, the infant Draco turned his head to his mother's voice behind him, and in like manner fell to his back trying to follow her voice.

As he accomplished the feat, the infant girl, Emmeline, mirrored the enthusiastic cheering of her Godmother and clapped two chubby hands just as hard. Both mothers laughed at the sight.

Hermione and Draco were deposited back in the present as the short memory ended, with nothing but the sound of their collective breaths co-mingling between them. There were tears in her eyes; she could feel the wetness on her lashes. Instead of tears of anger, this time, they were from sadness.

"They were so happy," Hermione mourned how a day full of promise and cheer had come, several years later, to this.

Draco's eyes were glassy too, "Yes, they were," he softly agreed.

"Could we ever be that happy?" She was unsure because truthfully, it was hard to see how at the moment. Her immediate future contained death, betrayal, and hurt. The conversation in Snape's quarters guaranteed it.

A finger tilted her chin up towards him, as he lowered his head to kiss her away her sadness. "I'm sure we could find a way."

Gods knew how she wanted to give into him! Her stomach flipped in anticipation as the natural reaction to tilt her head and close her eyes took hold. Fluttering her eyelids open, she placed two hands on Draco's chest and halted the blond from completing the kiss.

"Draco, wait," she whispered, a hair's length from his waiting lips. Even deep breaths could not steady a wild heartbeat and dangerous thoughts. Her shoulders itched as she dragged her line of sight to meet grey eyes full of confusion. She explained, "There's something you must know. Though I never met my mother … you see, I learned this summer she hails from a particular line of Veela," she watched as his eyes narrowed and examined her face. "And as her daughter, the gene passed onto me."

He was close enough to inhale as he replied; she closed her eyes and relished in the scent of her mate. "You're a Veela, you mean." The statement was rough, and evident of restraint.

Hermione followed the scent to the collar of his shirt as her lips parted eager for a taste previously denied. "Hmmhmm. You have a choice to make, Draco." She suddenly pulled back, rapidly realizing her descent to the point of no return. And if there was one thing she would not do, it would be to deliberately sway her mate one way, even if she wanted to. "I was angry earlier because I will assist you with this task, but not because Professors Snape and Dumbledore asked me to. Because they willingly put your life in danger, and there is never a choice to be made when it comes to you. I will do this because something within me will always protect you and be there for you. I don't understand it myself…"

"I'm your mate?" he asked incredulously.

She looked away, scratching at her shoulder blades, which had begun to itch in earnest. "Yes, and I realize how awful a situation that must put you in." She leveled her gaze on him. "But do you understand what I'm saying? There is no going back for me in this. But you have a choice, and I will respect that choice, whatever it is."

Then Draco was in her personal space as fire began to erupt beneath her shoulders and down her back. Determined this time, he smirked, "As if there was ever a choice to be made…" He kissed her as the fire spread, the shyness of his earlier attempt thrown to the wayside as he cupped each side of her overheated face. He held her in place as she drowned under her first kiss. At first, before the moment ever came, she dreamed how she would respond: how she would place her lips just so, how she would lightly run her hands in someone's hair, how there would be butterflies. But from little girl dreams to reality, she dumbly twisted her hands in Draco's shirtfront, desperate to hold on as he claimed her mouth most thoroughly. She was shocked at the moan that rumbled low in her throat.

Draco Malfoy had a wicked kiss.

She stumbled under the force of his kiss, but did not mind until the tearing of fabric and cloth had both dragging open their eyes. His facial expressions were her mirror to what was happening. Alarm replaced flushed cheeks and desire as his eyes lifted from her mouth to grow wide in shock. She tracked the astonishment all over his face.

Almost afraid to ask, she shakenly inquired, "W-what is it?"

But the answer appeared in her peripheral as the tips of large white feathers fluttered into view. The wings, large and silver under the moonlight, shook themselves out above her. They spread far past the length of her arms. "Bloody hell, is that…" she trailed off in a rare curse trying to turn around, as Draco caught her shoulders.

"This is extraordinary," he whooped with delight. She watched as he lifted one hand from her shoulder to touch the new appendage she had sprouted. She could feel the feather-like caress as he ran his tips down the new bone that supported the silver array of feathers. "Does this hurt?"

As long as he caressed her, it could never hurt she wanted to say, but instead, she shook her head. "My Aunt Apolline mentioned that Veela wings could be a possibility, but I wonder why they would emerge now?" She experimented with expanding and contracting the newest extension of herself with fascination. She peered at Draco, still captivated by the sight. "Unless … you've accepted to be my mate?" She smiled hesitantly at him, woefully unsure if there was a ritual she should be following. "I did not hear the actual words."

Draco lowered his gaze from her new wings. A slow smile finally made the butterflies appear. "Shall I kiss you again to prove it to you?"

Her heart sang, as she pulled at his shirt, bringing him back to her. "Just once more."

They met equally this time. She, sampling and tasting him; he, exploring as much as she would give. All he had to do was ask. All she ever had to give was his, and would always be his, though the physical words were not yet there. Instead, she told him through lips, hands, and tongue. Hands caressed every available surface as every bit of her sang. Lips bruised and warred for dominance as a light grew from within. And, Gods, when their tongues met…

A hand ghosted under his shirt as she wrapped an arm across his back. His hands settled on her hips and lower waist, ever searching and squeezing her to him. Lack of air made her dizzy and light-headed. The December wind could lift and take her away and she'd hardly noticed as she slanted her head to meet Draco's, granting him deeper access.

He groaned and she hummed as they met, over and over. There in the dead of night, a bond was formed between them. It was new, but ready to be forged in the trials ahead.

Feet left solid ground as Hermione clung fiercely to Draco, her mate.

"Mine," she panted as she broke free from his mouth, pulling his head down to meet her again.

The lost themselves in each other, until their shoes and feet grew cold and then, wet. The teens broke apart at the odd sensation.

"Oh, shit!" Draco cried in alarm, grabbing Hermione across her middle as he hung on for dear life. He held on just beneath her wings. Draco and Hermione clung to each other as they hovered over the middle of Hogwarts' expansive Great Lake. Their feet had been submerged before sensation brought them to awareness. Hermione lifted them back up, her wingspan strong enough to keep she and Draco from slipping into the lake.

They hovered there, clinging to the other, mere feet from the lake's surface. It was beautiful in a way, the two of them slowly spinning on the lake's surface with every her flap of her wings beneath the winter moon. The lake was still as if the sea creatures had stopped to watch the winged Veela and her mate dance on the water.

Hermione used the proximity to nuzzle Draco's neck, calmly assuring the blond, "Don't worry, I won't let you fall," she promised into his neck. Slowly, she lifted her legs to wrap them around Draco's waist, securing him to her, and she to him.

Now face-to-face, Hermione took them higher into the wind. "I've got you," was the last thing she said before leaning forward to seal the declaration with a soul-binding kiss.

an: And so this fic begins to shift course. Sigh, I had to get at least one sweet moment in before the tides start to turn. Don't worry if this chapter was somewhat vague on certain things. It was done purposefully, and will be explained as the story unfolds. Til next time~L