It was probably around ten at night when with a pop, one Draco Malfoy apparated into the living room of he and Hermione Granger's apartment, aforementioned witch dead asleep in his arms. They had had departed from the hospital just a few minutes prior, after chatting with the Weasley's a bit longer. After they had collected themselves in the austere hallway by the alley, they had somehow found their way back though the maze of corridors, to Ginny's room. Hermione was curiously blank in expression, like she was surpressing her emotions, and this was what worried Draco most of all.

He knew she was intelligent enough not to dwell on what could have been, but even the geniuses in this world would have needed time after a slightly traumatizing event such as the one she had experienced. Somewhere along the way, Hermione had fallen into unconciousness, and Draco was more than happy to carry her home. Which left him where he was now. With a traumatized witch who was dead asleep, alone. He knew she had been trying to act normal for the Weasley's sake, but now with just him around, she would most likely be a bit hysterical.

Walking into the loft, he made his way carefully to the bedroom so as not to wake her. He lay her on the comfortable bed, and then deliberated. He hated to wake her, and seemed to be about to leave her to her rest when she twitched slightly. He was instantly on alert, and observed her more carefully. She proceeded to twitch again, then give a small whimper. He touched her hair, calmingly, but she shied away from him in her sleep. He frowned, and she gave a thrash, then another and another.

Draco was now distressed, veela wise. He reached out and grasped her shoulder, trying to wake her, but she seemed to flat out refuse to awaken. She appeared to be dreaming about the attack. He was growing desperate, and he threw his arms around her, pulling her up and into himself. She struggled for a moment as he hugged her to himself tightly, then blinked her eyes open. Disoriented, she stopped fighting him, and looked around. She could not see his face, but she was comforted nonetheless, because she knew it was him. She recognized his scent, his firm chest, and his voice, whispering comforting nothings into her neck. Now that she was concious, Draco seemed to be the one more in distress. He seemed to be hiding in her hair, by her neck, and his nose just skimmed her mark, made by him. The contact felt odd, as if there was a low voltage current running through the spot. It was pleasant, and made her shiver. Draco seemed a bit more veela than person at the moment, so she decided to just ride out the wave.

He would probably just hold on to her for about the next thirty minutes, and not want to let her out of his grasp. She had read about these sorts of 'veela tantrums' during her research, and he was exhibiting all the symptoms. Well, there were worse things than being in your love's arms for extended periods of time. She realized then that she was still in her shoes, on the bed, so she reached down, and pulled off the two brown boots. Draco looked startled, endearingly so, and then comforted when she laid all the way back on the bed, head on the pillows. He curled up next to her, and snuggled into her side, burying his head in her curls. He seemed to have an obsession with her hair. (Well that sounds funnier and creepier than I meant it to...)

She snuggled into him, and began to think, and ponder over a few things. First of all, Draco's behavior when his veela traits were in control interested her. He seemed almost childlike, just responding to his basic instincts, or maybe his veela's basic instincts, because the main thing when he was like this was apparently his mate, or, her. That had to be the veela in him, wanting his mate. She decided not to let it nag at her.

Secondly, she was thinking about what actually happened to her that afternoon. She figured that she shouldn't waste too much of her time being scared and traumatized from one little event that hadn't even ended badly. But as hard as she tried to convince herself that it didn't make a lasting impression on her, she couldn't help but be a little bit frightened still. She made a promise to herself that she would allow herself 1.5 days of being scared, then she would be over it. It seemed like a good solution to her overly analytical mind.

Another thing that bothered her about the whole lot was the pressing matter of undefined recognition. That horrid man who had touched her had seemed so familiar to her! She knew she had seen him before somewhere, but she couldn't for the life of her figure out where. It irked her to no end.

Suddenly, she realized she realized she was , a whole day at a hospital without food could do that to a person. Draco seemed to be asleep against her, so she decided to creep away to the kitchen to get some nutrition in her. Slowly, and as quietly as she could, she slipped off the edge of their bed and padded into the kitchen. She rustled around in the refrigerator until she found something that sounded appealing to her at that moment, which happened to be yogurt. She sat down on the counter and began to eat. She still couldn't figure out who the man from the alley was. She hadn't seen his face, as it had been rather dark in the alley, but his silhouette was familiar in a bone chilling way. Then, it hit her like a bolt of lightning. She dropped the food on the floor and it splattered on the floor in a pattern that looked gory and violent. It fit her state of mind at the moment. Hermione's breath whooshed out of her and she slumped a bit.

Then, to add to the fray, Draco, who had been woken by the noise of the forgotten yogurt hitting the floor rushed into the room looking fierce. What he saw in the room befuddled him, to say the least. Hermione sat slumped on the kitchen counter, staring blankly out the window, and yogurt was spattered all over the floor. She looked up at his entrance, but something in her eyes was wrong. They were dead of their normal light.

"What's the matter? Are you all right!" Draco asked as he walked up to her, concerned.

"I figured out who that man was in the alley."

"Wha- who is he? I'll rip him limb to limb for touching you when I figure out-"

"Draco. Calm down. You can't rip him limb from limb. He's a wanted criminal who's location is unknown."

"Who is he?"

"Mulciber." She spoke in a low defeated tone. This was the man that had killed countless people in the war, including her friend Susan. And he had touched her body.

Draco growled and finally took her into his arms, cradling her against him like he would an infant. She burrowed her head into his chest and sighed.

"He will never touch you again, love, mark my words. If he ever tries to harm you, or anyone does for that matter, I will quite literally kill them."

"Thanks Draco. I'd better call the Aurors to inform them what happened. They would want to know his last whereabouts."

Draco shook his head and walked over to the sofa, and gently placed her there.

"I'll floo Potter. He's the head of the place anyways."

Hermione smiled tiredly, and squeezed his hand.

"Thank you, Draco." He smiled back down at her, but there was a steely glint in his eyes. Never touch a veela's mate was the number one rule in the book, and Mulciber had broken it. And Draco would make him pay, that much he was sure of.

God guys, sorry about the failure to update. I"ve got me a major case of writer's block. I hope you like this chapter, and I realize it's a bit short. Sorry about that. It was a bit of a filler chapter, because I have absolutely no idea what happens next. Sigh. Well if you have any suggestions, I would be very willing to let you give me some ideas. Until next time, nababy123.