Sooooooooo...How are things?

The past few weeks were spent with high school graduation! So I got the whole summer. Ish. I do have to spend time with family before I go away to college, but I should be able to upload more often. Anyway, editing was a wench. But I love you all and wanted to give you the best experience.

Anyways! Thanks to:

Xromysmommyx, Alaina08, Annalynn Roe, , Mystery of the Night, Guest (you know who you are!) BurningRoses, Feltonsgoldengal, DracoHermionelover98, advenlitgirl, simplysomething, DreamOnDraco, HarryPotterNerd2432, TeamSalvatore29, jinkxwaters, Heaven Abdool, OnceUponAHybrid, mignon-marron, annabeanlatte, , cares 1970, jennabolla, johansen, Kagome-Inuyasha20, .520900, ninja8cookiez nikkipoison16, stormfieldtwain, abitarbitrary, 1808, xXcriticxXJason, Scfcollins, Thorchick1993, doss956, liciaxo, fizzleflower, jmtopyalq, Katie. , Mbheros1321, LillyRM, Xasha, PinkyAndTheBrains, StormLight129, Nikki707, FabMart, emilia458, SashaVampress, snitch-1996, StayAfterDark, goddesspeorth, .russell, Arcturis, Florilicious, NorthmansProgeny09, xXx Golden Rose xXx, Azula Felinae, jennabolla, Kagome-Inuyasha20, ChiffonShock, mjgalvin97, kittykats96, scou93, stormfieldtwain, nicebrass2662, lapierredx01, Alaina08, cookers27, CallieCakes, Hannahthefabulous, Katie. , agressett69, LillyRM, StylinDa, Xasha

for favoriting, following, and reviewing! This one's for you guys!

I also have a special reference for all you anime and manga guys. That's also another reason I've been late. I have netflix and I've been bingeing. It's hard to tear yourself away from anime, ok!?

And may I just say I love all of you fabulous readers, and if it wasn't for you, this wouldn't have made it past...well probably chapter 4.

(Dated 6/1/2014)

Minerva McGonagall was a calm and collected woman. One did not go into the teaching profession without having some form of patience. She had dealt with bratty children and snotty teenagers. She had caught students in compromising positions, as well as a few teachers. She had to stay strong when Mr. Diggory was murdered. She had to fight down her anxiety when her students were attacked. And when Albus was killed, she nearly lost it. Seeing Snape in the beloved Headmaster's chair and trying to keep all of her students alive were the only reasons she was able to get through Albus's death.

She had been on staff at Hogwarts for decades, dealing with whatever was thrown her way.

Despite all she had gone through, however, she had never dealt with something like this. She firmly believed that the hardest part of any war was the aftermath. It was when you grieved for the people and things that had been lost. During a war, you ran on adrenaline, trusting that chemical to get you through the next battle. You didn't have time to think about the lost things during war. Thinking during the fighting could get you killed. But when it all ended, and the adrenaline faded, you were left worn out. You were left with your brain running horrors on a loop. McGonagall had learned long ago how to end the loop. She had learned long ago how to handle death.

One thing was for sure, however, and that was that Minerva McGonagall would never learn how to handle money. At least not responsibly.

It seemed ridiculous. Minerva McGonagall was a very strong witch. She knew knowledge that was lost to the world. She could face a line of Death Eaters no problem. But money? McGonagall swore the stuff sprouted legs and ran away from her.

Her parents had never trusted her with their wallets when she was younger. She received money, and it ended up either lost or spent. It had gotten so bad, that by the time she was twenty four, her parents hired Gringotts to oversee all of Minerva's finances. Any wages Minerva earned went straight into her account. Since she lived at the school for most of the year, she didn't have to spend much on house payments and utility bills. Regardless, when those payments were needed, money was taken from her account and used to pay said bills. When she needed clothes, she was given an allowance. When she needed food, she was given an allowance. She was given an allowance for leisure, where she could buy books or a broom. It wasn't like she was living allowance to allowance. She had quite a nest egg left from her parents will and her job. She bought what she needed, and whatever was left over, she hid in her house for emergencies. She didn't trust herself not to delve into the metaphorical piggy bank, so she set up charms that would only allow her to take the money in the event of an emergency, such as last year. If there was a problem with her house or she had a medical bill, she sent a letter to Gringotts requesting additional funds.

How the crap does this pertain to anything in the present? Getting there.

You see, McGonagall knew what it took to be a Headperson. You had to be able to teach, to deal with children, and all the obvious academic requirements. On top of all that, you had to be able to direct funds. Paying employees, upkeep, food, activities, and destruction costs. These were things she had to deal with financially.

But since the war destroyed most of the castle and the grounds, well, payment was sparse. The teachers had taken a major hit in their paycheck. It was great circumstance that allowed the teachers to live on the grounds and not have to pay for transportation or utilities. Most of the money that was donated went into the repairs. Sadly, not everything could be rebuilt with magic. Besides that, there was the library. The student's education was most important, and having a full and functioning library was costly. There was very little left over for other things.

Things like Quidditch. Well...thing.

The Quidditch pitch was one of the last things to have funds directed toward. Indeed, the pitch was still in disrepair. Because of this, Quidditch was not part of Hogwarts curriculum for that year. McGonagall despaired. It was tradition. It strengthened bonds between students and their housemates. Allowed for teenage anger and rivalry to be vented in a safe environment. Although, given Potter's mishaps on the field, it probably wasn't as safe as originally thought.

It also impeded some of the students' future. There were more than a hand-full of students that wanted to go into major teams; to have Quidditch as their profession. But because of lack of funding, some of these students would not get the chance to.

That's not to say it kept students from playing. She would often see a group of children down on the broken field, having a recreational game. But scouts wouldn't care about a recreational game. They needed to see how the students did under pressure.

McGonagall had pleaded with the Board and the Ministry to put more funding into the field, but for the moment being, it wasn't the main concern.

Minerva looked at the numbers once again. Nothing. She had gone through these ledgers, looking for some extra cash to pour into the rebuilding of the Quidditch field. But there was nothing.

Sighing, she sat back in her chair. She ran a hand down her face, fighting back tears. She could deal without Quidditch, but her students couldn't. And that broke her heart.

"Oh, Albus," She muttered, "What am I going to do?"

"Well, not talking to dead people would be a good start."

Minerva jumped in her chair, and brandished her wand. There was no need. The figure who spoke was lounged in one of the chairs on the other side of her desk. Realizing that there wasn't a threat, Minerva put her wand away.

"What can I do for you?" McGonagall asked.
The figure gave a smile filled with sharp teeth. "I think we can help each other."

XXXXX

"You're late, Mr. Malfoy."

Draco chose not to acknowledge Mr. Kidner's annoyed tone, and dropped his bag onto a desk. "Sorry. Couldn't be helped."

The look Draco received told him that Mr. Kidner didn't believe a word. Pity, because for once Draco was telling the truth. It was getting close to Christmas break. And that meant that all of Draco's professors were assigning enough homework to ensure that his holiday was spent indoors, bent over a desk. It was getting so ridiculous, that Draco was getting bags under his eyes. Bags!

Draco plopped down into the chair across from Mr. Kidner. As always, the man wore a brown suit, and had a yellow notepad, scratching away whatever he was thinking.

"So-," Draco started, but was immediately cut off.
"Did I ever give you the impression that I wanted to be here?"

Draco looked at Mr. Kidner. "What?"

Mr. Kidner sighed and tossed the yellow notepad on a nearby desk. He leaned forward, placing his elbows on his knees, and clasping his hands in front of him.

"Like you, Mr. Malfoy, I don't want to be here. My profession is catching dark wizards by creating a psychological profile. After I create a profile, my partner and I go into the field to catch the dark wizards. When it's not dark wizards, I help the Muggles catch their perpetrators. I love my job. My partner also happens to be my wife. I don't get to see her at home that often because our usual job takes us away. I'm not there, and I can't protect her, and make sure she's ok. I understand. You've been through some tough ordeals, and you don't want to face that. It's my job for this assignment to get you to deal with everything that happened. But all of your sarcastic comments, withholding information, and your tardiness only prolongs these sessions. The sooner I think you no longer need a therapist, the sooner these sessions end. After that, you won't have to see me again."

Draco couldn't breathe.

He never once considered that Mr. Kidner had a life outside of this job. He didn't think about Mr. Kidner at all, really. Draco had his sessions, left, and went about with his life. In all honesty, Draco didn't consider Mr. Kidner a person. It wasn't meant in a malicious way. It was just that Draco thought of the man as a non-entity. There, but not really worth stressing over.

Draco was also surprised to hear that his Ministry appointed therapist had a wife. Granted the man wasn't a spring chicken (he really needed time away from the Americans), once again, Draco never thought about that. A wave of shame poured over Draco.

Mr. Kidner didn't just have a wife, he worked with her. And that was the only time they really got to see each other, apparently. If Mr. Kidner's job was as serious as it sounded, Draco was also keeping the man from protecting the woman he loved.

If someone had told him he couldn't protect Granger, he'd be outraged as well.

But Draco didn't love Granger.

It was much too soon to be feeling such things. Draco was actually confused with his feelings about Granger. He liked her, yes. He wanted to spend time with her and protect her. He wanted to pull her into a dark classroom and snog her to death. But love? Draco was unsure if he even knew that feeling. Sure there were his parents, but that was a different kind of love.

Mr. Kidner watched the young man's internal battle with patience.

Draco lifted his eyes up to the man in front of him. "Alright."

Mr. Kidner nodded and grabbed the yellow notepad off of the desk.

"If I may ask, sir," Draco said slowly, "why you? I'm pretty sure there are other advocates the Ministry could have chosen, one's who specialize in this sort of thing and didn't have a different job. So why pick you?"

Draco was afraid the answer was going to be about Mr. Kidner's job. The man hunted dark wizards for a living. Did the Ministry think Draco was that evil?

He received a stare from the older man for a few seconds. Mr. Kidner once again sighed and tossed the yellow notepad on the desk. He held up his right arm and lifted the sleeve, exposing the skin beneath.

On his arm were the faded remnants of a Dark Mark.

There wasn't any more ink. In fact it looked like it all scarred over. But the skin was angry looking and didn't look comfortable.

Draco became nauseous and had to restrain his hand from reaching out and touching the offending mark. As horrible as it looked, there was a sick fascination Draco couldn't help but have. His arm would one day look like that.

"You were….." Draco couldn't finish the sentence.
"A misguided youth. I was maybe a few years older than you, and had dreams of moving high in the ranks. Voldemort was all the rage in my day, you see. No one talked about him in public, but behind closed doors…..You give anyone power, and they are bound to collect sheep. That's just the way humans operate. They need a guiding hand, someone to tell them what to think and what to do because they are too afraid of making those decisions themselves. Most of the time people with power, however, just have bluster. Not really anything to back up their claim of power. But Voldemort did. And as a stupid teenager, seeing someone with the kind of power Voldemort had, it was appealing. So I joined the regime, and became so proud. Until I found out what being a follower of Voldemort really meant."

Death. Torture. Nightmares and darkness.

"I soon came to understand what Voldemort was really striving for. He would never be happy with just the Muggles and Muggle-borns. He would eventually move to half-bloods, and then to purebloods. Voldemort wanted to rule." Mr. Kidner rolled his sleeve back down. "It was some years after I joined that I contacted the Ministry. I'm ashamed to say that fear is what kept me around so long. I'm not a native Englishman, so it was easy for me to hide. The Ministry received my allegiance as well as any information I had, and John Kidner was born. Kidner isn't my actual name. Don't worry. You won't have to go into witness protection. I was a nobody who was expendable. My name didn't even appear on anyone's radar. You on the other hand, are rather well known."

Draco was sure that was a bad thing.

"As you can see, I'm a little more qualified for the job than most. I told you that you needed to participate or the Ministry would have you removed from the school. You have yet to throw me a bone. But I've given you the benefit of the doubt because I know how difficult things are and how hard they can be. No more. Starting today you can participate or you can leave the school. Your choice."

Draco sat in his chair in silence. He looked at the desks, organized in their neat rows. He looked at the bookshelf, with books strewn across it in no certain order. He looked out the window to see kids around the shore of the lake and a ripple in the water from the giant squid.
"I….The real reason I did what I did was because I was, I was…...I'm a coward. Voldemort said he'd kill me. I mean he didn't come right out and say that, but he didn't have to. I try to defend what I did by saying I did it for my parents. But that is maybe thirty percent true. The rest is because I didn't want to die. I wasn't ready."

Mr. Kidner crossed his leg and set the notepad down on his knee and began writing.

Draco didn't continue, not right away. The rest of the session went about with Draco giving Mr. Kidner a piece, and then Draco would sit quietly.

He talked about the fear he had felt and the terror of having Voldemort in his childhood home. The hatred he still felt toward his father for giving in the Snake Man's evil.

He talked about what he did during sixth year.

The pain, the guilt. Cursing that girl with the necklace, and trying to poison Dumbledore. He talked about that night on the tower, facing off against the man and Snape shooting the Killing Curse.

Mr. Kidner didn't say anything. He didn't offer words of accusation or comfort. He just wrote on that yellow notepad.

Draco's one hour session had turned into three. Anything pertaining to Voldemort was now out in the open.

Mr. Kidner finished scrawling on the notepad and looked up at Draco. "Anything else?"
Draco gave the man a strange look. "Should there be anything else?"
"It was brought to my attention by the Minister that you've been involved with the Community of Magical Creatures."

"The Minister told you?" Draco raised a brow.
"Yes. He knows about your sessions. He's curious as to whether you are worth the trouble or not."

Draco wondered that too.

"What exactly is your involvement with the Community?" Mr. Kidner asked. For once it wasn't a therapist question. It was a question filled with genuine curiosity.

"I'm friends with the Vampire queen and a Veela." Draco wasn't sure if Mr. Kidner knew Valerie attended the school or not, or if he even knew who she was.

Mr. Kidner's eyebrows rose in surprise. "Your friends with a Monarch?" He scribbled something down on the notepad.
"Yes," Draco answered, "but I didn't know that she was a Vampire, let alone a Monarch until Halloween."

Another scribble.

"Anything else? Anything recent?"

Draco had an urge to talk about Granger. He wanted to tell Mr. Kidner about her ridiculous activities. The way she would tap the side of her face when she read something interesting. How she would roll her eyes at the morons she hung out with, but she would smile at the same time. He wanted to just ramble about her, but he wasn't sure how Mr. Kidner or the Ministry would take to the news. With Mr. Kidner's interest in Draco's friendship with Valerie, Draco figured that somewhere in that notepad it said something about Draco trying to get in the public's good graces by befriending powerful people. And Hermione Granger was a society favorite.

"No. Besides some overbearing homework assignments, there's not much."

Draco was also tired. He'd just bared his soul to someone for hours. He needed a nap.

Or a drink.

Mr. Kidner wasn't an idiot. There was obviously something the boy was keeping, but considering how much he had shared today, he was willing to let the boy go.

Draco gave a nod of goodbye, grabbed his bag, and left. He leaned on the stone wall, the uneven stone digging into his back. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Pushing off from the wall, Draco made his way to the library.

XXXXX

Hermione threw her eraser across the table and slammed her head on her desk. It was almost Christmas holiday, and her professors were assigning copious amounts of homework. Not that it was a problem, but she had gone an entire year and a half without doing paperwork. You couldn't just automatically pick up where you left off. That was one of the reasons Hermione had asked for assignments in advance. She was ashamed to admit it, but she had gotten used to not doing work. Studying was one thing, but actual assignments were another. All of her current assignments were due the last day of term, but she wanted to get them done.

And that was another thing.

She only had half a term left. Half. And then it was the real world. Hermione wasn't sure she was ready. She had her major already, and most of her stuff was done, but she felt like there was still so much to do! This year had flown by, and so much had changed. She even had a boyfriend for Merlin's sake!

Hermione tapped her fingers on the wooden table. She needed a break. She had been in the library all day after classes. Her back hurt from leaning over the table and the wooden chair had made her butt go numb a few hours ago. She peered outside the window next to her table. It was dark now, and the moon had come out. It was almost full.

Rooming with Lavender was not as painful as Hermione thought it could have been. She, Parvati, and Hermione had stayed up a few times just talking. It was nice. When the first full moon happened, McGonagall came with a Ministry advocate, a Mr. Kidner. He escorted Lavender to a converted safe room on one of the upper floors in the castle. It seemed that when Hogwarts was being rebuilt, there were a few added rooms for students like Lavender.

Hermione rested her chin on her hand and blew out a puff of air.

"Are you that bored?"

Hermione looked up to see Felix giving her an amused look. Hermione just grumbled. Felix pulled out a chair across from her and sat down. He took in account all the books that were strewn around the table.

"Homework?" He asked.
"Homework." Hermione mumbled.
Felix laughed.

"So what brings you to the library?" Hermione asked.
"I was looking for Malfoy. And since he would most likely be with you, and you would most likely be in the library, here I am. And here you are. Unfortunately, no Malfoy."

Hermione nodded. She noticed that Malfoy disappeared every couple of weeks. He never said where he was going or anything, and reappeared just as randomly. She didn't ask because she didn't want to pry. If Malfoy wanted her to know, then he would tell her.

That didn't mean she wasn't curious as all get out - a term, courtesy of Valerie.

"Why are you looking for Malfoy?"
"I was seeing if he had any questions before I left."
"Questions about what?" Hermione asked, cocking her head to the side.

Felix's eyes widened for a brief moment. "Oh. Um, he and Valerie had an assignment. And since she's gone, I'm answering questions."

Hermione noticed that Felix's hands were fidgeting, on top of the obvious lie. She didn't call him out on it, though. Something she had learned with her strange American friends was that the truth eventually came out. They just needed the right time to tell it.
Hermione nodded, albeit stiffly. Felix's expression softened and he gave a nod in thanks.

"So where are you going?" Hermione asked, trying to alleviate the awkwardness.

Felix blew out a puff of air and lowered his head. "I have to go to the Ministry. I get to find out who my mate is."

Hermione's eyes lit up. "Really?"

Felix nodded his head.

Hermione crinkled her nose, unsure. "I wanted to ask, but I wasn't sure if it was too personal, but-"

"You want to know about the mating ceremony."

Hermione blushed. "Not, um, everything. Just the basics. I know that Veelas have a dream to find out their mate. That's the extent of my knowledge."

Felix clasped both hands in front of him and leaned forward. "What Veelas have is called a True Dream. It's more of a premonition than anything. Veelas are placed under the Sleeping Beauty charm - that's what we call it - and we basically dream about our mate."

"But what exactly does the dream entail? Does the Veela know their Mate already? Are they complete strangers?"

"Slow down there, Chatty Cathy. It honestly depends on the Veela. Some have met their mate before, others haven't. My dad for example. He'd never met my mother. See, he's not a wizard-Veela mix like I am. He was raised and schooled in the magical community, but he didn't attend any wizarding school. Mom went to Salem."

Felix smiled fondly.

"I asked my dad what the True Dream is like. He said this: everybody goes through life, searching for that one thing; they don't know what it is, where to find it, but they feel like something is missing. But my dad told me that when he had his True Dream, it was like he found the thing. That he somehow felt complete. I asked him what his True Dream was, and he told me it was my mom in the summer, in a dress. And she smiled at him. That was it."

Hermione felt like her chest was going to explode. In a good way!

Felix had sounded so happy, and his voice was filled with so much love, his happiness had rubbed off on her.

"If your father had never met your mother, how'd he find her?"

Felix smiled. "That's why the True Dream is more of a premonition than an actual dream. Veelas have their dream, and they know what their mate looks like. But they don't know where to find them or who they are. But it works sort of like Fate and they meet somehow. For instance, my mom went on a trip with her wizarding friends the year they graduated. They went to New Zealand after hearing tales of a powerful wizard and dragons. My dad was in New Zealand for the summer, helping the Fairies out. He was just walking and tripped and fell. Right onto Mom. They got to talking, met up a few times before they went back to the States. Turns out they didn't live that far from one another. They became friends and then Dad asked her out and, well, you can infer the rest."

Hermione had never given much stalk to fortune telling or Divination. There were just too many factors and possibilities. What were the chances of this or that happening? Having to deal with Voldemort made her even more skeptical. Honestly, if it wasn't for Snape hearing the prophecy and telling Voldemort, Harry probably wouldn't have been The Boy Who Lived. It was because Voldemort chose to believe the prophecy that it came true. That just proved that people made their own destiny, but various things could influence it. Hearing Felix retell his parent's story though, made Hermione wish that things were that beautiful. That happiness and good could come of random chance and Fate.

"So your father didn't come right out and say he was a Veela and that your mother was his mate?"

"Ah, no. Veelas have until they're twenty five before they have to have mated. If they don't mate, then they deteriorate and eventually die. It's sort of like...being a battery. Veelas need to charge. But every, er, charging moment only lasts so long. Like there's faulty wiring, and they didn't get to 100%. And sometimes the chargers don't even work. So Veelas go through life with faulty chargers, until they meet their mate. Their mate is the only charger that can get a Veela to 100%, and keep them there. Why would you continue life with faulty chargers, if your perfect fit that makes you feel the best is out there? That's why Veelas are typically mated so young. But there are laws, and these were actually set forth by the Veela Council working with the wizards.

"The Veela can be no younger than 18 to have their True Dream. Their mate has to be at least 16. If they aren't, then the Veela has to wait. Another reason that Veelas have their Dream so young. Well, between 16 and 18 the mate needs to give their consent, as well as getting parental consent to be with the Veela. After 18, it's their own choice. Veelas can go about Courting their mate however they want. But having someone come up to you and saying, 'You need to be with me forever, or I'll die,' does one of two things. The person runs away screaming, or they become ecstatic. Ninety five percent of the time, it's the former. So most Veelas try to woo their mate first, and then tell them."

Hermione nodded. "And do they tell their mate that they're a Veela?"

Felix shrugged. "That's the Veela's choice. And they have until their twenty fifth birthday to woo their mate. After that, however…...well, I don't want to say the mate is forced, but they're given an ultimatum. Prison or the Veela. It's prison because knowingly not mating with your Veela is considered murder."

Hermione raised her eyebrows in surprise. "That's rather-"
"Jacked up, yeah I know. But there have been maybe two cases in the last five thousand years where the mate picks prison."

Felix leaned forward.

"Now here's the catch: you only have to mate with a Veela once. Just be with your Veela once, and that Veela is set for life."

Hermione's jaw dropped.

"Others don't really know about that part because the mate stays with the Veela. There have been cases, however, where a mate was chosen, but the two completed the Ritual before going their separate ways. Some Veela become accustomed to the 'whoring' life that they don't want to get rid of it. Or some just don't like their mate. There have been instances like that."

Hermione blinked. "Then what's the point of having a mate?!"

A slow smile spread across Felix's face. "Because. The sex is phenomenal."
Hermione blushed and Felix burst out laughing. "Kidding, kidding. Sorta. The mate is the one person that's supposed to make the Veela feel their very best. That doesn't mean that personality's clash. But somehow, they're perfect for each other. I guess those cases are like you and Malfoy, just more stubborn. Anyway though, 98% of the time, the mate is with the Veela."

"What if the mate is with someone else? Or their mate is a Muggle?"

"If the mate is with someone else, that all depends on parties involved. Some break up, others do the one time shebang, and then there's been a few times when the mate stays with both. Weird, but whatever works for them. And as for the mate being the Muggle, Veelas are given the chance to woo them like anyone else. But they have to be informed at a certain point. There are information and therapy offices set up specifically for that. And a whole heck of a lot of precautions. All the mates are informed of EVERYTHING, though. It's illegal to keep someone in the dark."

Hermione's head was buzzing. This was so much information, and honestly, she hadn't been expecting half of it. Veelas were far more complicated than she originally thought. She had to refrain from getting spare parchment out and taking notes, just for the point of having the information documented.

"And you get to find out who your mate is today?" She was happy for her friend.
Felix gave a dry chuckle. "Yeah."
Hermione cocked her head to the side. "You don't sound too excited."

Felix looked up at Hermione. She sat back under the intensity of the stare.

"Felix….is there something wrong?"

Felix said nothing. His fingers started drumming against the table and he wouldn't look at her.

"You don't want to find out who your mate is, do you?"

Felix's eyes became downcast and he gave a small, sad smile.

"Why don't you want to find out?"

"Because he's already in love with someone else."
Hermione whipped her head around to look at Malfoy. She smiled at his presence, but became serious again when she turned back to Felix.

The boy made no sound, but stared at Malfoy. Malfoy came and took the seat next to Hermione, scraping the chair on the floor as he pulled it out.

"You're in love with somebody else?" Hermione asked quietly.

That sad smile again.

Hermione didn't have to ask who it was. Neither did Malfoy.

Honestly, if you couldn't figure out who it was by now, you were dense. Like, Natsu Dragneel dense.

"You could just be with your mate for the Ritual," Hermione put in.

Felix shook his head. "It's not that simple. Maybe a human can do the ritual and then walk away, but a Veela? The ones that are in that situation are severely depressed. They can't function. Imagine having the best thing in your life ever to happen ripped away. I couldn't handle that. It's just better if, if I move on and try not to dwell."

Felix pushed back from the table and stood up. He gathered his things and pushed the chair in.
"I take it you don't need anything from me, Malfoy?"

Malfoy shook his head. His expression was soft (well, soft for Malfoy) as he looked at the Veela. "No."

Felix nodded his head. "Well, I'll be back in a few days. The Dream only lasts for a bit, but the paperwork after that is a bitch." He smirked, but it was forced. He waved goodbye and left the two.

Hermione looked after her friend. She felt like crying for him, but there was nothing she could do. She just found out about Veelas not five minutes ago, and something told her, that it wasn't even half of the information. Even if she did find out everything, it's not like there was some sort of cure for a broken heart. Or that you could force pick a mate.

Hermione felt a hand in hers and looked over at Malfoy.

"He'll be ok. Just give him time."

Hermione nodded.

P.S. If you love Draco and Hermione and their relationship, I suggest you read the Fairy Tail manga or watch the anime (or both!) and then read Gajeel and Levy fanfiction. Ho. Ly. Crap. I love those two. I've been bingeing on a whole heckuvalot of Fairy Tail fanfiction lately. )