A/N: Hi my gorgeous readers :D In case you didn't get to hear this from anyone today, you people are beautiful :*
I think my amazingly fab mood is because I GOT A 27/30 ON MY ECONOMICS MID TERM –dying of happiness-
Thank you to my Beta, Stephanie Soprano, who is the most frantrabulous out of all (So cool in fact, that I had to make up a new word for her).
ON WITH THE STORY SINCE I'M SURE NO ONE IS BOTHERING WITH MY RANTS ANYWAYS (I wouldn't if I was getting a little more of dark, delicious Draco).
Chapter six: A Death Wish
"You're my mate." She gasped.
"I'm a what?" Draco spoke confused. He had absolutely no clue that the three words Hermione had just uttered were about to change his life drastically.
Hermione, whose life had already changed rather unduly a day ago, lifted her hands and clutched her bushy hair tightly. This cannot be happening to me. Her breathing was becoming erratic and her fingernails dug into her skull. With her realisation came yet another change. Everything dimmed back to normal, the lights, colours, details, sounds, scents. The previous focus that had been on every minute detail abruptly shifted to the man in front of her.
She could hear his heart thudding quietly in his chest. She could feel the confusion and growing alarm in his aura. She could see the slightest changes in his expressions, the fine details that no human had the capacity to see. She could smell the scent of his husky cologne, sexy and expensive.
A dull ache began to settle in her chest, deep rooted and cold. Her breathing was now coming in gulps of desperateness and she sank back onto her seat, dazed. Spots began to dance in front of her eyes. The logical Hermione Granger, who had faced hordes of Death Eaters and torture, was now hyperventilating.
"Granger? What in Merlin's name is wrong with you now?!" Draco spoke, slightly annoyed and highly confused. He had never seen the Head Girl so flustered, her face red and eyes strangely wide. She had only been a fraction of this disturbed when he made her angry with his scathing remarks. He had never done anything this… Deliciously bad to her. She was muttering unattractively under her breath, which was a shame, since she didn't look half bad with flames of anger licking her expression when he riled her up. She didn't look angry though, just positively disturbed, as she usually was around him. He wondered if he had done this to her, and if he had, what it was so he could do it again. Her reactions were so fascinating.
"No. No. How is this possible? It's not. It can't be. No. Anyone, but him. No. No." She was murmuring. Her whole world seemed to be collapsing.
"My dear, are you all right?" Professor Slughorn spoke with alarm lacing his words. He hobbled over to her, concern showing in his features. Hearing his words the rest of the class looked up at the mess Hermione was turning into.
"Hermione! Are you okay?!" Ron yelled running towards her pushing his ladle into Dean's face. Draco began to back away slightly so as to not to be blamed for the witch's strange and sudden hyperventilation. But predictably, even though he took a clear three steps away, Ron's attention turned to him as he put his hand on Hermione's shoulder.
"What did you do?!" Ron screamed at him, turning a rather interesting shade of purple.
Draco merely raised an eyebrow, "Don't blame me because she's a mess." Hermione looked up at his words, and he saw a strange hurt splash through her brown arises. Ron growled, but turned to his friend who was still reeling from the shock.
"Hermione, what is it?!" Ron asked. Professor Slughorn looked down at her too. She shakily lifted her hand, and pointed directly at Draco Malfoy, who looked alarmed at this.
"It's him." She whispered, her voice barely audible, but shaky.
Then, for the second time that day, Hermione Granger fainted.
"How is it my fault, Weasley?" Draco sneered as they stood in the infirmary while Madam Pomfrey checked her patient.
"How could it not be your fault?! You bloody-" Ron began, furiously.
"Mr. Weasley." A voice spoke firmly. He looked up to see the Headmistress enter the room. "Language."
She surveyed the scene before her. Hermione was lying on a bed, her hair fanned out. She looked pale and tired. Draco Malfoy was leaning against a wall well away from the Head Girl. Ron stood between his friend and enemy, divided as to whether he should help his friend or strangle the enemy. Harry, who seemed to be covered in a green lotion of some sort sat next to his friend's bed, glaring at Draco. Lavender and Seamus peered from behind a curtain, covered in green lotion too. Pansy had moved to stand next to Draco Malfoy, the only other Slytherin in the room beside herself. Professor Slughorn sat, talking to the mediwitch in whispers.
"What happened?" Headmistress McGonagall asked.
"Hermione! She fainted!" Ron supplied her, "And it's his fault!" He pointed at Draco, who looked up with a hate filled glare.
"How dim-witted can you get, Weasley? It wasn't my fault. She went bonkers yelling something about mate and blacked out." Draco sneered, distastefully. Headmistress McGonagall raised her eyebrow.
"Mr Finnegan and Miss Brown, if you both could please step outside the infirmary for a few minutes, it seems we have some things to discuss here." She spoke. "You too, Miss Parkinson." She added.
Pansy opened her mouth to speak, but Draco cut her off, "She can stay. If those two can stay because they are her friends, she can stay because she is mine." Pansy shot him a smile and leaned back against the wall. The two stayed together through thick and thin, that's how it had always been with them since they were children. They were the best of friends, for always. He may be arrogant and surly, and she may be loud and mean, but they suited each other acting as an anchor to the other.
"Very well, Mr Malfoy." Headmistress McGonagall said watching Lavender and Seamus leave. When the door shut she turned her solemn eyes on the two Slytherins.
"Mr Malfoy, have you heard of Half Veelas?" She spoke.
"Of course I have. We have had a few Half Veelas in our ancestors, since the gene is carried by our family." He said. "Hence, the perfect blond hair and grey eyes, our family's trademark. It's caused by the gene." He added with an arrogant smirk.
"It's good that you know then, because you'll know all about the mates of Half Veelas then?" Headmistress McGonagall asked softly.
His eyes widened slowly, as realisation hit him. That's what she was harping on about.
I'm her mate.
She awoke to shouts, a screaming match. One voice was distinct among all, and even if she couldn't make out any other voice, she was compelled to know that one voice, because he was her mate.
Draco sodding Malfoy.
How could this possibly be? That vile, nauseating man could not be her mate. He was her stark opposite, the man of shadows, while she was the woman of light. His heart, his mind and his ideals were all a twisted black, while hers were the hope that fed the masses, a stark, bright white. How could such different beings collaborate? Even if they did, wouldn't it just be a mouldy grey, dull and boring? Or… Dare she think it…? Would it be a perfect blend, a harmony of dark and light, like a chess board?
She opened her eyes slowly. No one seemed to notice. They were busy, yelling. She heard Headmistress McGonagall enter the room and the shouts softened. She groaned softly.
Aren't mates supposed to be the perfect halves of each other and all that hogwash the books had spoken about? Why on earth did the Half Veela in her recognise Draco Malfoy as her soul mate?! He was not her ideal at the very least.
She had always wanted a well read and educated man: someone who she could challenge, someone who would challenge her. She wanted loyalty, trust and equality in a relationship. She wanted someone who could stand against anyone for what he wanted and what was right. Not Draco sodding Malfoy.
"I can see by your expression you've realised what I'm trying to say." Headmistress McGonagall's voice cut through her daze.
Hermione sat up slowly and was greeted with the impending silence in the room. Nobody seemed to notice her, as everyone's eyes were on the Headmistress waiting for something.
"We'll only be able to confirm when Miss Granger wakes up of course."
Hermione sighed and spoke tiredly, "I'm awake." Her eyes were on the Slytherin boy standing on the other side of the room. Somehow it pained her to be as far from him as she was, even though before she had wanted nothing more. She was intrigued; she wanted to find out why the Half Veela within her had chosen him. What about him that was so perfect for her?
Everyone in the room turned to her. But she only felt the grey eyes on her, searching her face. They were sharp and alert, as they took in her expressions. They sought even the smallest expressions. He was observing her. He does that often.
Draco did do that quite often. He had found over the years that Hermione Granger wore her emotions much too obviously on her sleeve. All he had to was observe the details of her face and he would know everything she was feeling. It was a trick he used often to rile her up best so her cheeks would flush and the all that emotion would flood her eyes. It was a stark difference from any Slytherin he'd known, who knew better than to reveal their emotions to enemies.
"Hermione is he… Is Malfoy…?" Ron struggled.
"He is Ron." Hermione spoke, her eyes still of Draco.
"Draco Malfoy is my mate."
A/N: I planned to write even more. But I need to think about Draco's reaction properly.
There will be more Hermione-Draco interaction in the coming chapters. Yayayayayayayyayay.
Review please because it's not fair on me to have so many readers and so less reviews :*
Ciao for now, Alexia.