This chapter was written by both Queen and myself. (Queen wrote Hermione's and Draco's parts, I wrote Storm's.)

Warnings: language
Disclaimer: We don't own Harry Potter; we just own the plotline and I own Storm, so pwease don't take them!

Here's the next chapter for all of you who're reading this. We'd really like to hear your comments, so please review (only if you really want, of course ,).

Thank you everyone, I hope you all enjoy this chapter! Cheers, darlings!

Chapter Two

Hermione looked around her bedroom; she'd been staying with her parents for the past few months. She couldn't think of a better place to stay when she was upset. Her mom knew that some chicken soup and homemade bread with fresh made lemonade could chase the blues out of her daughter no matter what the problem was. This was one of those times, but the meal wasn't doing the trick it used too. Man troubles couldn't be fixed by a good home cooked meal, she didn't know if anything could really make it better except maybe talking.

She looked down at her cell phone waiting for Draco to call and tell her that the dinner was off, or that he didn't want her to come. These things had been happening a lot lately. Maybe this was his way of telling her that they weren't going to be together much longer, but who knew Draco wasn't exactly the easiest person in the world to read.

She sighed to herself and stood up walking to her closet, she'd brought just enough clothes to last three days, and one outfit was meant for special occasions. She looked at the green velvet dress that seemed to stare back at her from out of the closet. It was an older styled dress, it went around her upper arms, where the shoulders and arms connected, and left her neck and collarbone completely exposed. She reached out and fingered the material letting out an exasperated sigh. She couldn't believe she was going to do this, Draco had said his mother wasn't going to be fond of them being together, and worse yet she had to meet an old family friend that was sure to think she wasn't worthy of the pureblooded wizard.

"Oh bother, this will never turn out good." She mumbled to herself as she pulled the dress out of the closet and looked down at her three pairs of shoes. Two pairs of tennis shoes and a pair of boots, she'd long since gotten rid of the shoes she'd worn to the Yule Ball. Another exasperated sigh escaped her lips; she would have to find a way to get some decent shoes before she tried to enter the manor.

"Why didn't I think about this before?" She all but yelled to herself as she waved her wand, feeling the green velvet material take the place of the jeans and light cotton t-shirt she'd been wearing beforehand. A smile crept over her lips, she knew that this dress looked decent on her, but for some reason tonight she felt even better in it than normal. She walked over to the mirror and stared at her frizzy mess of light brown hair, she waved her wand over it and smiled as it straightened and shined. She looked at it and thought of the appropriate hairdo, she fell back on the hair she'd had at the Yule Ball. It had looked good on her then, why not now in a more grown up dress? She moved to her jewelry box and pulled out a nineteen inch silver chain that held a silver snake with emerald eyes, a present that Draco had given her almost a year ago. He'd said that this necklace was an heirloom, let's hope mommy doesn't mind that the little muggle girl is wearing it to dinner. She rifled through the box and found some emerald dangle earrings and threaded them through her earlobe.

Jewelry and hair were one thing, but Hermione wasn't good with makeup. She'd never been one to change things, but tonight felt like the appropriate time to put some on. She grabbed a medium red lipstick and puckered her lips applying it in a semi-thick layer. She rubbed them together and smiled, she decided to forgo all other types of makeup. She reached out and grabbed an old fashioned perfume bottle and put on two spritzes.

"I guess this is as ready as I'll be in the appearance department." Hermione said to her reflection as she grabbed her clutch purse with her wand tucked into it. She walked over to the closet and threw her slip on tennis shoes on, and apparated to Diagon Alley in the hopes of finding the perfect silver heels, for a night when she needed all the luck she could get.

Draco dropped Harry off at his apartment like planned and rushed on to his own home so he could get ready for the grueling dinner with his mother. He had always gotten along with her, but he knew that tonight was going to be particularly unpleasant. She had never been a fan of him not taking a pure blooded person out on a date, let alone planning on marrying them. Oh tonight all hell was going to break loose in Malfoy Manor, but right now he couldn't care less. Things in his life were starting to go right, he just had to hope that he could keep the peace long enough to let his mother know that he didn't care if she liked Hermione or not.

Draco smiled to himself as he entered his apartment and threw his bag down in the large green leather chair that sat by his fireplace. He didn't mind living in a small apartment, he'd thought he'd hate it but it has been cozy for him to be alone in his home. He walked through the living room, past the kitchen into his bedroom. He'd altered it with magic only slightly to accommodate the king sized four poster bed he was accustomed to sleeping in. There were some things that you just couldn't change.

He went over to his closet, also altered by magic to be much larger, and looked at all of the clothes he had. They were separated by their use: casual, robes, dress robes, dress clothes, and work/ school clothes and of course those for super special occasions. He felt like he might have been gay with the way he kept his clothes, but he rationalized it with he had always hated clutter and this helped keep him sane in his home. He walked all the way into the closet and stood in between the dress and super special occasion clothes. Both had their tempting options, his dress clothes held his black and white pinstriped suit with the emerald colored shirt and silver tie. His super special occasion clothes held his grey tuxedo with the steel grey cufflinks and black bowtie. He looked at both intently and opted for the normal dress clothes, he didn't want things to look too out of place. He knew tonight wasn't the night to ask her, but he still needed to look good.

He reached out and touched the material of the suit he was going to wear and smiled. The shirt was made of silk and so was the tie, the suede suit and leather shoes were ready for a night like tonight. He waved his wand and moved them to his bathroom, and he followed his clothes making sure they hung themselves up on the back of the door. He turned and looked at his reflection in the mirror, "This is it Draco old boy, time to tell good old mummy that you're not going to be marrying Pansy like she'd hoped."

Storm ran a brush through his hair, wary and distraught. The time in that cave was a memory, a memory so close it could've happened earlier that day. As it was, it had happened many days…many months ago. He could still hear the screams from that raven-haired wizard; Storm could still feel the sticky warmth from the blood that had coated him. His eyes, the teal wrapped in magenta rings, stared at him accusingly. Certainly, he must look shell-shocked.

"How on earth could you think it a good idea to meet me near a dragon's lair?" Strom groaned for the millionth time. The hotel mirror displayed the soft, pale skin of his body. Skin designed to entice a mate's hand to touch, a mate's lips to kiss. Strom cried out, flinging himself away from the mirror. He was not worthy of a mate, not after making such a stupid mistake as he had.

Draco's letter sat on the bedside table, capturing his distraught gaze. Storm had promised to meet with his old friend, to have dinner with Mrs. Malfoy. Strom promised to meet Draco's chosen mate. Storm closed his eyes, imagining the brilliant look that probably entered the blonde's eyes when he saw this witch. He felt that this female must be something very special for Draco to have decided.

He calmed himself enough to change into his dress clothing. The black satin of the shirt felt nice against his back; Storm paused, considering whether he wanted to risk ruining the shirt. Ever since the cave, Storm's wings would burst from his back if he felt threatened. He hoped there would be no need for it.

The time rolled around, and Storm found himself outside the front door of Malfoy Manor. He knocked on the large door, his eyes glancing around him. He remembered spending summers with the Malfoys, positive that Draco was the one Storm would take as his mate. As it turned out, that wasn't the case. Storm had chickened out of any form of relationship with Draco that involved more than friendship. Storm liked to believe it was the dreams he'd had that influenced him, but sometimes he doubted himself.

A house elf let Storm in, directing him to the dining room with a low bow. Storm followed the directions, inhaling deeply before succumbing to the panic he felt building. The idea that he would be attacked in a place he trusted was ridiculous, but he couldn't help it.

"Storm, it's so pleasant to see you!"

Narcissa was still as beautiful as always. Storm smiled and bowed his head, giving her a gentle hug when she demanded one. It still surprised him; Narcissa just didn't seem like the type of woman who greeted people so warmly. Well, she didn't actually greet people warmly…she greeted those she knew and cared for warmly. Storm was one of the few.

"It is wonderful to see you as well, Narcissa. Has Draco arrived yet?" Storm glanced about the room, slightly crestfallen to note the absence of his friend. He forced his gaze back to Mrs. Malfoy, hoping she did not note his demeanor.

"Unfortunately, not yet," Narcissa replied in a dissatisfied tone. It was apparent that she did not like Draco's absence either.

Just then, the aforementioned blond entered the room, with Hermione right behind him. Draco's eyes held a glow that Storm recognized and envied the brunet girl for. She put that happiness into Draco's eyes, and a small part of Storm wanted that. He ignored it, mostly because that part of him was incredibly irrational – trapped in a place that would go away when Storm found his true mate. If it didn't, Storm was certainly fucked over.

"Who's this?" Narcissa barked, giving Hermione the once over.

Storm saw the nervousness radiating off of Hermione in waves. He sensed the tension between Draco and his mother. Oh, joy, the dinner was going to be fun.

"Mother, this is Hermione Granger. She is my girlfriend," Draco ground out. Storm shifted uncomfortably, gazing at Hermione with curious eyes. He smiled a bit, reading her aura.

"Draco, she is quite exquisite," Storm commented absentmindedly. He ignored the astounded looks the two women gave him, focusing on the smug smile Draco gave him and the sheer beauty of Hermione's aura. There was such wisdom and acceptance; she was perfect for Draco.

"Mistresses, Masters, dinner is ready," a house elf declared in a chime-like voice. The four occupants took their seats; Storm noted the disgruntled look Hermione gave Draco when she saw the house elf. The food appeared, and all set in to feast.

True to his nature, Storm barely ate. The house elves must have realized he was their, because his plate held half the amount that any of the other three. He was relieved. He allowed himself to immerse in the conversation, successfully distracting Narcissa from her obvious dissatisfaction over Draco's choice in mates.

When the dessert had been finished, Storm followed Draco to the terrace. The gardens beyond the doors were beautiful, and one of Storm's favorite parts of the Manor. "Do you really think Hermione is exquisite?"

Storm gave a small smile. "She is very wise, powerful…accepting and loving; Hermione has a kind heart. She is a good match for you, Draco." He practically smelled the relief that flooded from the blond. "Your mother will come around, just give her time to get over the initial shock. If you remember correctly, she was rather fond of the idea of us."

Draco scowled. "Yes, well…she also seemed to like the idea of Pansy and me."

Storm chuckled a little. "Yes, well…Narcissa doesn't much care for the idea of anyone being with you, Draco. You're her precious son; it's the same with fathers and their daughters. 'Giving them away' is acknowledging that their babies don't really need them anymore. She's not going to be happy with any choice you make regarding your mate."

Draco nodded, turning and watching Hermione through the double doors. Storm followed his gaze, smiling fondly as he watched Narcissa and Hermione speaking. Their conversation was obviously strained, but they were making the effort. "Your mother loves you, Draco. She'll accept Hermione, perhaps she'll grow to genuinely like her one day, but she'd do anything to keep her son in her life."

"Thank you, Storm…"

Storm smiled and turned away, once again glancing out at the gardens. An owl screeched in the distance, and he tensed. Draco placed a gentle hand on his arm, drawing Storm away from the screaming that was sure to start. Storm glanced up into Draco's face, finding solid ground.

"I meant to see how you were, after what happened in Romania…honestly, but everything's been so…off here. I never really found the time, and I'm terribly sorry about that."

"It's okay, Draco. I'm…I'm doing as fine as can be expected. It was foolish of me to enter that cave, and I don't know what I was thinking when I did it." Storm replied in subdued tones. He didn't want to dwell on the subject.

"If ever you need to talk about it, I'm here for you. You're like a brother, Storm, and I hate to see you suffer."

Storm smiled and clasped Draco's hand in his own, squeezing. He didn't know how else to express his gratitude.

The two rejoined Narcissa and Hermione, where they sipped tea and managed pleasant conversations about meaningless things. Storm could tell that Hermione was burning with questions for him, and he wondered if Draco had mentioned what he was or if she was knowledgeable enough to notice the trademarks of his kind.

Later that night, when Storm was back in his hotel room, the door was locked tight and the mirrors were covered. Charms were set so that no one would hear a thing. Storm went to sleep, shirtless lest he need to grow his wings for an escape, and spent the night screaming as he tried to escape his nightmares.