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Chapter 3

Fury

Draco Malfoy took his sweet time packing for Hogwarts, which is probably why he arrived at the station later than he should have. Then again, he didn't want to be here, so it doesn't really matter. Well it does, considering he needs to find his mate, but he hasn't fully accepted that fact yet. Besides, he is pretty sure it can't be to hard to find his mate. It is probably Pansy or someone like her. One of those slutty girls he used to date.

Actually, he is almost positive that one of the Slytherin Sluts is his mate. The idea doesn't exactly please him, but they are better than a filthy mudblood- sorry, muggle-born. His mother would have his head if she knew he still referred to muggle-borns as mudbloods. Oh his mother, how she had changed since Lucius was sent to Azkaban. She visits him constantly of course, she is still a Veela and needs to be near her mate. But she is free from his shadow now, able to express her beliefs once again.

Thinking of his mother puts an ache in his chest. Despite her show of bravo, Draco knows how much Narcissa feels her mate's absence in life. As much as he loves his mother though, he can't help but hope her mate is nothing like his. Narcissa had explained that the Veela side of him would do anything to make his mate happy, which was the reason it was so hard for his mother to go against his father's wishes.

No matter what, he would not stoop as low as his mother to please his mate. Whoever she is. Which brings him back to the pressing question. Who is she? He hates to admit it, but he is eager to find out who she is. Maybe it is just the Veela side of him that is eager. No, it is the Veela side of him. There is no way Draco Malfoy is excited about meeting a girl. Even if she isn't just any girl.

Then there is the fact he needs to actually find her. His mother had told him the only way to be sure that the girl is his mate, besides him being drawn to her, is to kiss her. Another reason why he hopes his mate is a Slytherin. It wouldn't be out of character for him to randomly kiss Slytherin girls. After all, he is the Slytherin Sex God. A title is is very proud of.

That matter resolved, he shakes himself and gets ready to face the stares and whispers that are surely waiting for him. His signature smirk is one his lips as he steps through the brick and onto Platform nine and three quarters. Immediately, his ears are bombarded with the familiar noise that is Pansy Parkinson.

"DRAKIE!" She screams once she catches sight of the familiar blonde. A second later, she is latched to his side. "I missed you soooo much!"

He resists pushy the clingy pug-faced girl away from him, but can't stop a grimace at her shrill voice. Thankfully, she doesn't seem to notice, instead spending her time drawing the claws she calls fingers across his chest.

"Did you miss me?" She whispers breathily in his ear, trying to be seductive. All that it ends up doing is make him want to gag. He doesn't though, he still clings to the hope that a pureblood is his mate. In answer, he presses his lips to hers. The girl in his arms responds immediately, kissing him passionately, but he doesn't kiss back after a few seconds. In fact, kissing Pansy makes bile rise in his throat. She is definitely not his mate. Relief corses through his veins, so strong that he realizes exactly how much he had expected it to be Pansy, and the he had hoped it wasn't.

Pansy doesn't seem to notice he isn't kissing her anymore, or, if she does, she doesn't care. He pulls away from her, disgusted and not wanting her near for another second, but she doesn't get the message. Instead, she starts kissing his neck and letting out loud moans that make her sound like a dying cow.

Fed up, he shoves her roughly away from him, "Go away, Pansy." He tells her, starting for the train.

She pouts, "But, Drakie!" She whines, draping herself over his arm in order to get him to stop.

"Do not call me Drakie." He retorts coldly, which surprises him slightly. Usually he treats girls with a little bit more respect, not much more, but a little more. He guesses the Veela in him is making it hard to tolerate other girls that are not his mate. Or maybe he is just fed up with Pansy. Either way, she gives up and goes off to find some other boy to make out with.

His mates are probably going to be wondering why he got rid of Parkinson, she is easy after all. That is, if he has any mates at Hogwarts, he doesn't know how many of them are returning for the year. He can count on Blaise returning, but he doesn't know about anybody else. Frankly, the only good thing coming out of this year, besides finding the person who will keep him alive, is that the professors will be more lenient with him. Narcissa had informed Mcgonagall of his "condition", so now he is excused from classes if he isn't feeling up to them, no questions asked. That is definitely something he is looking forward too.

He boards the train and starts for the Heads' compartment, wondering who the Head Girl is. Well, not wondering, more like dreading. He knows that it is most likely Hermione Granger, and is not looking forward to that encounter. After all, he did just stand by and watch as she got tortured by his aunt, not that he likes having a relation to that psycho. Its not like he could have done anything anyways, but besides that, he feels.. conflicted about seeing the Golden Trio again. After all, if it wasn't for them, he and his mother would be in Azkaban with his father.

As if summoned by his thoughts, he spots the Golden Trio, the girl Weasel in tow. The two boys haven't changed much, still as irritating looking as ever, and the ginger girl is no different. Though she does look hotter than he would have expected. Granger's back is to him, so he can't see her face, but he can still tell it is her. Her hair is still curly, but it has lost it's frizz, something he hadn't noticed the last time he saw her. Instead, it falls in long, delicate brown curls down her back. Without seeing them, he can imagine her eyes, a warm chocolate brown, that always have a smile in them, that could cheer anyone up...

He shakes his head to clear it, disgusted with his thoughts. This is mudblood Granger. Know-it-all Granger, brains of the Golden Trip. She does not have warm chocolate brown eyes or delicate curls. This Veela thing must all be going to his head, if he is thinking of Granger like this. He's gone back. As he watches, Weaslette and Scarhead bid Granger goodbye and head off to find a compartment.

As they pass by him, The Boy Who Lived nods at him in greeting, clearly thinking that since he stopped Draco from going to Azkaban they aren't enemies.

He's wrong. Draco sneers at the pair, "Weaslette, Scarface." The redhead shoots him a glare but other than that, neither of them acknowledge him as they pass. Well that wasn't as fun as he had hoped.

He turns back to face Weasel and Granger, watching them as they speak. She turns away from him, but before she can walk away, Weasel pulls her back and is kissing her. For some reason, rage bubbles up in him at the sight of the Weasel kissing Granger, who clearly isn't enjoying it. Nonetheless, the muggle-born, wraps her arms around the dimwit. As she does, he catches a glint of something on her finger.

A ring.

Not just any ring though, he can tell even from where he is standing that it is an engagement ring.

Granger and the Weasel are engaged.

It takes a minute for that information to set in, longer than it should. The feeling that he gets from that realization is one that scares him. He is furious at the redhead, who is snogging Ganger as if its the last thing he'll ever do. That stupid Weasley is going to marry the brightest witch of their age. How does that work?

The feeling that bubbles in his veins is anything but rational. He hates Weasel more than he hates his father. More than he hates Potter. More than he hated Voldemort. How is it fair that the dimwit gets someone as smart as Granger, while Draco will die if he doesn't find his mate? How is it that the Weasley gets her when she is so much better than him?

He wants to stride right up to the pair and tear them apart, to punch the redhead for thinking he deserves Granger. To tear him to pieces for touch her. Finally, the Weasel pulls away from Granger and goes on his way. It takes all of Draco's self control not to whip out his wand and hex him as he walks by. Especially when the Weasel sneers in his direction, his lips slightly swollen from kissing and hisses, "Death eater."

But he eyes aren't on the Weasel. No, he is watching Granger. How can she settle for a guy like Weasel? Fury boils in his veins and his eyes practically burn a hole in the back of her head. As if feeling his stare, she turns and meets his gaze.

Her chocolate brown eyes widen in surprise as they meet his silver.

Okay, this is a quickie, but I wanted to post this as soon as possible, because school is back on tomorrow. I will try to post during the week and I hope to update by Wednesday, but no promises. Yes, this had mainly Draco in it, but you guys don't mind, right? *wink wink* Anyways, tell me what you think!