Warning: Forced mating. Mate Bites. Blood-sucking. This story is now rated M.

Mood for this chapter: Avril Lavigne, "I'm With You"

Chapter Twenty: With You

I'm not the girl I used to be, Hermione repeated to herself as she approached the daunting wrought-iron gates of Malfoy Manor. Inconspicuously, she shifted the bodice of her formal robes as she, Draco, and Severus walked swiftly toward the gates. It was customary for pureblood witches to wear formal robes, and thus, it was decided that she would wear the most uncomfortable dress she'd ever worn at her first meeting the Dark Lord. Never mind, that it was sexist as hell, or that it three in the morning.

She swallowed her modern way of thinking like a spoon full of disgusting medicine as she mentally prepared her walls. In a world where arranged marriages were aplenty, she shouldn't have been offended to learn that witches were expected to wear formal robes, particularly when visiting the Dark Lord's court. Never mind if one had just committed murder and it was well past midnight, it was the proper thing to do.

The girl she used to be would have objected to all those things, especially murder, she surmised with a heavy heart. As Draco lifted his wand to grant them access to the Manor, the realization hit that she was not that girl any longer, nor would she be for quite some time. Like Severus had taught her, she fortified her mental walls to complete the last of the transition, and prepared to lie with truth. It was easier than expected to channel her anger so that she was the epitome of a witch scorned in place of the girl she used to be. She thought about her Marie's murder, and vividly recalled a scared mother clutching an infant, intent to leave war for the safety of France. She thought about the life that had been stolen from her as recalled the peaceful park where she and Draco had first met. The Malfoys and Shacklebolts were a family bound by loyalty and friendship. Hermione soured at what could have been had events been allowed to play their natural course. As she traversed the stone-lined path towards the Manor's entrance, her transformation was completed. Now, all she was left with was a burning anger. She funneled it so that the Dark Lord would see a witch angry enough to betray the Light. She prayed it would be enough.

However, one lone bright spot kept her from completely vanishing into darkness, and he currently walked beside her in support. He held his head high, and though his eyes remain forward-facing, the hand at the small of her back reminded her that he was still with her.

An unnamed Snatcher greeted them at the door. After Severus introduced her, the newcomer in their small group, and stated their purpose, the man's eyes widened in shock before quickly granting them entrance. It seemed news of Dumbledore's murder had spread quickly that night. As they crossed the foyer's marble floors, it was hard not to recall other memories, pleasant memories that had occurred at Malfoy Manor in different times. Distant thoughts of reunions and broom rides through the winter sky seemed like ages ago as she walked through the cold Manor.

Her jaw tightened as she bade those memories to the recesses of her mind. This was not the time. Quickly, she sought Draco's hand as they entered the Manor's drawing room. His hand dropped from her waist, and answered her unspoken request as he took her hand into his own. Her mate's thumb tickled the inside of her palm as the pair entered behind Severus. The miniscule movement was enough to keep her grounded.

Few were awake at such an hour, but those who were took interest in her immediately. And no more so than the Dark Lord himself.

Voldemort sat at the other end of the room, a small unassuming man, until she took note of the hulking great snake beside him and the quiet power he commanded. Severus greeted him, but the words were lost to her cottoned-up ears. Her heart thundered a dangerous beat, because while the Dark Lord replied to Severus outwardly, he assaulted her mind.

The mental assault was quicker than she'd imagined. It was as if she had been run over by a hippogriff, then all of a sudden, it was over. The assault left her reeling and nauseous as she swayed into Draco's shoulder. Her Veela sat to attention as a result.

Her mate glanced down at her, asking with concerned grey eyes if she was alright. But it was too late; the Dark Lord had searched her mind in the span of a conversation. As he slid his attention to her, completely bypassing Draco, she prayed what he saw had been enough. Because if it wasn't...

"The prodigal daughter returns," he greeted her with a semblance of a smile. "Welcome, Ms. Shacklebolt. Young master Malfoy." He dipped his head in greeting, keen to observe the niceties.

She stayed the compulsion to shiver in disgust and asked instead, "You are familiar with the Muggle parable, my Lord?" The surprise was genuine.

His eyes traversed the length of her. "I recall it during my unfortunate time in their care, however short it was, yes."

A hint of a smirk, "We have that in common, then."

He did not lean forward, but a subtle shift said he was intrigued. "And what is that?"

"Our unfortunate time with Muggles," she dragged out the word.

"Was it really? Unfortunate, I mean?" he tested her. "You have not blocked your memories of your Muggle parents. I suspected that would have been the first thing you did tonight, and yet, you so freely cling to them? Why is that?"

"At first, a child is satisfied with the paper toy. As he ages and learns more about his world, he realizes, then, that the paper toy did not suffice at all. I cannot erase my unfortunate past as much as you cannot," she finished.

Voldemort smirked as he leaned against his chair. "And yet, you would so openly betray your father, our Minister for Magic, as it were?"

"My father betrayed our family, our duty to history, and my mother the night he let her leave with me. Because of his mistakes, I was denied the life that I was due and House Shacklebolt almost lost its heir." Here, she turned to her mate and spoke the truth, "If it wasn't for Draco, I wouldn't have found out whom I was."

"Yet, you fought with your father and the rest of his rebels last year at the Ministry," he pressed her with a forked tongue.

"My father is a confused man," was all she could say as under his unwavering gaze. Again, tendrils of black ink pressed around the surface of her mental walls, seeking a weakness. But anger made for a powerful foundation. Shakily, she asked the room aloud, "How could I follow someone who gave up looking for me after my mother's murder? How could I come to love a man who would so easily let his wife and child go?" Anger made her grip the fabric of her pretty robes. "He's made his choice, as I have made mine."

The room fell silent after her confession as all waited with bated breath for the Dark Lord to render his decision. She clung to the fact that he would have had her killed the moment he'd invaded her mind. But he must have seen something…

Then, his slippery smile returned. "The Shacklebolts are a powerful family. For the world to see its heir fight for us, will strike a blow to them all. Welcome, Ms. Shacklebolt." He extended his hand.

She closed her mouth before it fell open embarrassingly, as she moved forward to take his hand. The room watched as she glided across the floor, as Draco had taught her at Hogwarts. She stopped before him, and curtsied in her heels. He smiled at the display before she took his cold hand and placed a light kiss to pale, smooth knuckles. "My Lord," she demurred.

Just as she was walking back to Draco and Severus' side, Voldemort said to her back, "Bellatrix told me the most interesting news upon her return from Scotland this evening. It appears during an unfortunate skirmish with Mr. Potter, it was discovered that you are a Veela?" Blood froze in her veins. "Is that so?" he asked.

Turning once again, she corrected, "Part Veela, actually. On my mother's side. I've only recently discovered this inheritance."

Voldemort took note of Draco general proximity to her as she returned to his side. "I've read of your betrothal in the Prophet. Don't tell me, your mate is your intended?" He made a sound akin to a laugh. "How ... quaint. It's like a fairytale, wouldn't you agree, Severus?" Though he addressed the question to Severus, his gaze flitted between the pair of teenagers.

"I find the likelihood of their betrothal and being mates very low," their Professor dully replied.

Voldemort continued, "If I remember correctly, fully bonded Veela are dangerous beings to cross, especially if their mate is endangered." He cocked his head, as if he truly did not know the answer. "Is that correct, Severus?" Here, he leaned forward in his chair as his wicked intention came to light.

"That is correct," Severus slowly drawled the answer.

A sense of dread filled her gut as she caught eyes with Draco. Worried honey-colored eyes met cool greys.

He addressed his next question to her. "And tell me, Ms. Shacklebolt, are you and Mr. Malfoy fully bonded?"

Hermione swallowed. For the first time, nerves make her voice quiver. "Not in the proper sense, no. I'm sure Bellatrix has shared with you my capabilities. I assure you, they will suffice."

"Your pretty words does little to convince me, Ms. Shacklebolt. If you are to truly join our cause, then I require the best from my followers. And as it currently stands, you are not at your best."

"Striking down Dumbledore wasn't enough?" she asked back, coolly. Others shrank back at her bravado, but she held ground. She would not stand for what he was proposing.

"I have a fully-blooded werewolf within my arsenal," he replied, as if her feat was merely ordinary. "A fully-mated Veela will enhance our chances of victory, wouldn't you agree?"

Draco spoke up beside her. "My Lord, Emmeline has had a long night. Perhaps, there is a way -"

"Do not presume to tell me what is best, Mr. Malfoy!" he interrupted. "You stand before me unharmed because killing you would lose my best asset in months. And that is a pity seeing as the assignment to kill Dumbledore was yours. That your mate had to finish what should have been yours would warrant your death. Do not tempt me to change my mind." The air in the room swiftly fell below freezing as Voldemort's anger prickled the atmosphere.

"Stop," Hermione whispered, as she took hold of Draco's hand. She looked upon the Dark Lord and carefully masked her ire. "I'll do it."

"Tonight," he clarified for all in the room to hear.

Hermione dipped her head in reluctant acceptance. It was going to happen anyway, but never in a million years would she want it to happen like this. Such a decision should have been on their terms. With a heavy exhale, she waited for their imminent dismissal so she could privately prepare Draco for what was to come.

But it never came.

"And it will happen now." Voldemort waved his wand as an orange jet of light burst forward into mist; the mist moved to the envelope the pair. Whatever the spell had been had little effect on her creature blood. However, Draco doubled over beside her, clenching his knees as if in pain.

Quickly, Hermione turned flashing eyes upon Voldemort. "What did you do to him?! If you have harmed him -"

Draco moaned as he gripped his knees, though it was not a sound of pain.

"A spell to awaken one's desire, Ms. Shacklebolt. The spell is innocuous on you, as it were, but our friend, Mr. Malfoy is susceptible to its effect."

Hermione spun to check on Draco. She took note of his face, red from restraint, and his shallow breath. "Are you alright?" She placed a worried hand on his arm, and jumped back when a strong grip suddenly ensnared her wrist. He straightened and pierced her with dark look.

Behind her, the Dark Lord taunted her as onlookers cheered in anticipation. "Prepare yourself, Ms. Shacklebolt. You will claim your mate for the Dark. We are ever grateful to witness such a blessed ritual."

Hermione wiggled her wrist in Draco's grasp as the world dropped away. Utterly concerned, she asked, "Draco, can you hear me?"

He pulled her in close and whispered harshly into her hair. It was evident that he was losing the fight. "The spell's too strong," he said by way of apology.

Hermione pulled back to look up at him with tears in her eyes. Her first time was supposed to be special, private and loving, and now that moment would be irreparably tainted by dark magic. Her Potions professor, and others would look upon her nude body and she would have to face them with knowledge that they'd seen her at her most vulnerable.

Though he trembled and stumbled into lust, Draco placed his hands on the side of her face, so that her vision funneled to clear grey eyes and not the group of men who surrounded them. Her heart constricted out of concern as her Veela stirred awake. "It's just me," he whispered. He pressed a sweaty forehead to hers, promising her, "I'll make it quick so we can leave."

"I never wanted this," she whispered for his ears only. She needed him to understand that she did not want to force this life, this choice upon him. Ideally, they would have talked about such a decision and made sure she had his full consent before undertaking such an endeavor. Because they were on the edge of forever. "There'll be no going back after this," she murmured, eyes closed in regret.

Draco nodded as lewd calls encroached upon their private moment. "There never was for me." She opened her eyes at that to find his eyes pleading with her. Our beginning does not define our end, they said.

With shaking hands, she lifted to cup his face, and nodded in response. She quietly marveled at how much he'd changed in the past year. Had she changed so much, as well? Taking the moment as permission to procced, she pulled his head down to hers, though he met her just as eagerly, and just as passionately. She closed her eyes as their lips met, and immediately, images of Dumbledore's death at her hands and Harry's eyes screaming in pain vanished to the outskirts. She pressed into his Draco's kiss, determined to chase away the ugly feelings swirling in her gut.

Tears squeezed from her eyes as he clung to her, as if he could discern the tide of emotion threatening to sweep her away. He deepened the kiss, sweetly running his tongue along hers. Slowly, the nightmare that waited behind her lids re-focused to center on the man before her. Two years ago, the man who kissed her reverently had so brazenly dropped a picture into her hands that changed her life forever. One year ago, the man who currently unzipped her bodice, set up a meeting between her biological father and her newly-found God-parents, giving her the family she'd never known. She kept her eyes trained on him as he pushed the garment down her shoulders so that the dress fell to her chest unobstructed.

Draco paused to wipe a tear from her cheek as he undressed himself. She did not miss how he disrobed so that he would be more undressed than she. If he had qualms about standing bare before the room, he did not show it. Even in this wretched situation, her mate was unwilling to see her further embarrassed. Her heart quickened with the thought.

She lowered to the floor then, watching Draco intently as he raged against the compulsion of Voldemort's spell. The physical effort played across his face, which strained red in effort. Lifting a hand, she beckoned for him to join her. This needed to end quickly. He lowered to his knees, and she reached up to skim her fingertips across his chest. He was cold due to the jarring air in the drawing room. Leaning forward, she kissed the spot where his heart beat for her.

Within her, her Veela awoke in hunger. "My mate," she called him as she kissed a trail of kisses across his chest. Above her, he nodded.

"Yours," he agreed quietly.

She hummed in content as the kisses lifted higher. Her hand found his, and she squeezed. "My sweet mate, will you have me?" she pressed the question into his collarbone.

Two fingers gripped her chin until she was forced to meet his eyes. "Until my dying breath," he said with such finality that should be impossible for one so young.

She sat back at his proclamation, torn between disbelief and euphoria. Logically, that could not make sense. They were seventeen; their entire lives were before them. Such a fierce proclamation should not make sense. Her heart still sang though, as his words lifted her higher than any broom ever could. Close enough, so that only she could hear, Draco whispered as he pushed them to the ground, "I'm with you always, Hermione."

They fell to the floor at his declaration. Her Veela, immensely satisfied at openly claiming her mate, preened in euphoria as she melted into him. She burrowed against his chest as his knee pushed her legs open. A hand disappeared beneath her skirt as the fabric gathered at her thighs; it was enough to keep her from being exposed.

She held clung to Draco as two fingers entered her. The intrusion was different, but not unwelcome. Her Veela inwardly sang in delight and prepared her body to receive him, even if the moment was not ideal. Slickness coated his fingers and ran down her thighs.

Hermione blinked in ignorance as her mate took the lead. Above her, Draco held her gaze as his fingers stretched her unused walls. As her slickness eased his passage, the pressure from his hand lessened. In and out, he withdrew from the heat of her, giving her time to adjust to the feel of him. With every exhale, she relaxed, ensured that her mate would make sure she felt as little pain as possible.

Beads of sweat formed at his hairline as she took in another one of his fingers. Reaching up, she wiped the hair away from his forehead, and murmured, "I'm ready, Draco."

Draco swallowed with difficulty as he bobbed his head. Still focused upon her, he watched carefully for any sign of discomfort. Distantly, she became aware of his hand pulling from the heat of her, leaving her with a sense of emptiness. Her eyes tracked across his face, waiting for what came next. Her breath started to come in short, shallow puffs as the anticipation mounted.

"Are you ready?" The question was rough from restraint. Her heart bled at the fact that he would seek her permission first, as if they'd a choice at all.

She lifted her arms to draw him close, as if she could pull him into her heart and keep him safe. "Take me away from here," she whispered her plea, and on the floor of Malfoy Manor's drawing room, her mate joined himself with her.

Searing pain tore at her lower half at the intrusion. The more he pressed into her, the more it burned. Her Veela compelled her to remain still and accept him. But Merlin, it hurt. In short, small thrusts, he pushed against the remainder of her barrier, until it gave way. The moment it did, she locked around him, suddenly scared as the pressure bloomed from the center of her. It multiplied until her lower half was filled with the swell of him. Above her, Draco's eyes rolled closed; the sensation too great. Dimly, lecherous calls surrounded the mated pair as they finally began an ancient dance as old as time.

Draco's hair was slick with sweat as she gave reign over to him. He withdrew and re-entered her slowly, in effort to give her time to acclimate , but she did not want to draw this out before an audience.

As Draco sank into her, he brushed across something that had her gasping in shock. He stroked her honeyed spot again, yet oddly, it was her mouth that responded to her mate's harried thrusts. Unbeknownst to her, her incisors lengthened. Her pupils dilated as she focused on the large vein in his neck. As he continued to move above her, her ears picked up his heartbeat, strong and vibrant. She drifted ever closer to that spot on his neck.

Lewd jeers, the slapping of flesh upon flesh, and the world faded to a point on his neck, as her lips parted in search of a taste…

Time blurred for dizzying moments and when she came to, Hermione was latched onto Draco's neck. She had sucked the skin of his neck into her waiting mouth, and before she could stop it, her newly-lengthened fangs tasted hot cooper. Draco stilled above her, before giving a great groan. Just as quickly, she was doused in warmth as his seed spilt inside her. All the while, she sampled and played with the taste of him on her tongue. Like warm water, it slid down her throat in thick droves until it settled in her gut. She was not disgusted by the taste; quite opposite, in fact. The experience was exhilarating as she pulled more and more with each successive draw.

Draco moaned above her, from pain from pleasure, she could not discern, as she was caught in the moment. Within the very heart of her, she could taste his heartbeat and feel his soul. As she swallowed his essence, dimly, she became aware that she had not experienced an orgasm. Though what she had experienced was just as great.

Suddenly, her fangs dislodged from broken skin as someone pulled her mate away from her. "That's enough, Ms. Shacklebolt," Severus chided as he pulled an unconscious Draco from her.

Hermione licked bloody lips as Draco lolled to the side. Mindful of her bare lower half, Hermione pulled her dress robes down to cover evidence of their coupling. Thankful for her swift-thinking Professor, Severus withdrew his wand and levitated his limp form. Draco shivered mid-air as twin streams of blood dribbled down his neck and into his collarbone. Her mate was paler than usual and unconscious.

Hermione, however, remained frozen on the ground. Had she done that, as she looked on in horror? She did not want to hurt him. A trembling hand touched her lower lip and pulled away with scarlet droplets on her fingertips. She would have slid into panic right then and there as Death Eaters around her cheered her feat as if it were their own personal victory. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath to calm unsteady nerves because just there, in the seat of her mind, she felt him. Her Draco. A connection, wide and open, linked Veela to mate, and while his outward form looked worse for wear, she could feel his body retreating inward to rest.

He would awake soon, and when he did, nothing would tear him from her.

Hermione stood from the floor, completely numb to what she'd just done as she tugged on her dress front to cover herself. On one hand, her Veela was sated at finally claiming her mate, but on the other hand, she hurt for any pain she'd unintentionally brought. Such a mark should have been given in love and care. Had this ritual occurred under a proper setting, she could have ensured a pleasurable experience for her mate.

She turned dark eyes to the reason they were forced to share this private experience with an audience. Voldemort sat upon his self-made dais at the front of the room. With an incline of his head, he finally dismissed her. She did not bother to hide her rage, and he smirked as if he knew her feelings on the matter.

However, there was little time for dallying as Severus led her mate out of the room. There would another time for vengeance as she stalked past the small group who disbanded now that their show was over.

She followed quickly behind Severus as they traversed the Manor's halls. A lifetime ago, she had walked these very halls with Narcissa, right after meeting Kingsley for the first time. That was a lifetime ago. Since then, she had killed, mated, and joined the Dark at the behest of her fallen Headmaster. The passage of time felt as cold and empty as the Manor's halls across her skin. Without its Lord and Lady present, it seemed as if very stones of the ancient house had shuttered upon itself.

Soon, they reached Draco's wing of the house. Hermione locked the door behind her after she entered. It was late, and while she gathered the rest of the Manor was asleep, she was not about to take any chances.

"Do you have …" She was about to ask about a blood-replenishing potion, but her Professor, ever astute, produced a vial as he Draco lowered onto the bed.

Hermione moved to stand on his right side as Severus moved to his left. He un-stoppered the vial as she opened Draco's mouth for him. "Did you have to take so much in one draw?" he berated her.

Hermione blushed as she worked to heal his wound. Unconsciously, she licked her lips, savoring the taste of him. The wound needed considerably less healing magic as compared to earlier. It was probably on account of her Veela serum coursing through his veins. She kept her focus on the rise and fall of his chest, instead of glancing at her Professor and fellow double agent. "It isn't like I knew what would be expected of me tonight. Otherwise, I would've had time to properly prepare. We would have had time to prepare," she said wistfully.

"A word of advice, then. There will never be time to acclimate to what will be asked of you. Your best recourse is to do it, and move on."

Hermione grimly nodded as she stowed her wand. Draco's wound was now properly cared for and bandaged. Severus must've noticed the utter look of despair clouding her face, for she did little to hide it. Too much had happened this night.

He sighed, and dismissed himself. "I will return in the morning to check on his condition. I assume you do not need anything." It was not a question.

Had he asked, she would have asked for a potion to erase the last twenty four hours. Instead, she dumbly shook her head. "No," she whispered. Decorum demanded she wait for her Professor to leave before impolitely jumping into bed with her lover, but the need to hold her mate was too great. He was the air to her oxygen-starved lungs and before Severus turned his back, she'd jumped into the bed and crawled to Draco's uninjured side.

No house elf would come to their aid this night. Narcissa would not be there to greet them for a late brunch on the terrace. For the foreseeable future, it would be her and Draco in this dark new world. She was scared for parents, for her friends, and for the unconscious man beside her. As she hugged Draco closer, she held tight to the fact that she was not alone.

She replayed his words over and over again until sleep finally stole her away. I'm with you always, Hermione.

an: Friends, I apologize for the lengthy wait between chapters. Thank you to everyone who asked me about this story, or provided encouragement through fav's, follows, and reviews. You guys really keep me going. On the positive side, my muse has returned! Thank you all so much! So much love to you all~