Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any affiliated characters. I just happened to come up with the plot for this ship. All credit to J.K for her amazing universe that she allows us to play in.

Warning: Rated M. Cursing, sexual innuendos, lemons and fluff ahead. Basically what you would expect from a romance novel nowadays.

Eternal love and gratitude to my Beta, Ihrin who is taking over this story for me. Thank you so much!

Music is my muse:
Song for this chapter: Firefly, Ed Sheeran
Lyrics: Hold me tight, don't let me breathe. Feeling like you won't believe.

Love of a Mate

Chapter Two
So Slytherin

Hermione and Ginny sat in their flat's small living space drinking a bottle of brandy.

Ginny looked a bit sick. "Hermione, if he's really your mate he had to watch you get tortured."

Hermione nodded. "Yes."

Ginny shook her head, her glass shaking in her hands. "But, Hermione, the amount of self control that had to take? To fight all his instincts like that? Fleur said it must have almost physically killed him."

Hermione nodded again, frowning. "Yes but he couldn't have saved me and also saved Harry and Ron."

Ginny nodded. "And he had to know that if he just saved you and they'd died you would never forgive him."

Hermione snorted but nodded. "So he stood there and kept playing his part." She was rubbing her shoulder, her face troubled. It was very upsetting to imagine how truly awful that had to have been for Draco if he was really her mate and a Veela.

Ginny gave a sad little tut and shook her head. "Oh, that's awful."

They sat again in silence, then Ginny stood up and went over to the table, rummaging through the books and parchment sitting there. "We have to owl him. He should know that you know.

Hermione snorted. "But we don't actually know anything, Ginny. Sure, he's the face in my dreams but that's not certain. If we sent him an owl asking him if he's a Veela and my mate he would probably have me committed to St. Mungo's by sundown!"

Ginny made a face at her, but walked back over with parchment and quill in hand. "So we word it in such a way that he would only understand what we are talking about if it's true and otherwise have no suspicions of how loony we are if he's not the guy."

Hermione still shook her head. "And how do we justify sending him an owl at all? It's not like we socialize with him, Ginny."

Ginny just snorted. "You are suffering from lack of sleep, 'Mione. We have that ball for half-humans coming up the end of next week. We will simply invite him as the head of Malfoy House. I am sure he got an invitation anyways; you will just send him a personal note."

Hermione frowned but flushed as she realized that was a really brilliant idea. "Wow, if it really is him, he would be a half-human."

Ginny shrugged. "Possibly, I doubt he is half Veela. The Malfoy line is well documented. I mean, we know there has been no Veela for at least the last two generations and none of us reacted to him like the boys reacted to Fleur."

Hermione nodded biting her lip. "That's true; he can't be even a third Veela. His grandparents on both sides were purebloods with his mother being from the house of Black."

Ginny nodded, interrupting her. "Exactly, it has to be on the Malfoy side and at least a great-grandparent."

Hermione rubbed her arms and sank down to the floor taking the quill from Ginny. "I still don't know if this is a good idea, Ginny. What if he doesn't really wish for me to be his mate?"

Ginny looked aghast. "Of course he does. He marked you!"

Hermione sighed. "But that could have been accidental. I am a muggleborn. You met his father! Perhaps he just couldn't help himself but after he marked me he didn't want to mate me. Maybe he was hoping I'd die and he could mate another."

Ginny looked upset and sank down to the floor, picking up her glass again and drinking from it. "I can't imagine that is the case, Hermione. I mean, everything we know about Veelas-"

Hermione cut her off. "But he's not as Veela as Fleur. She said she could have chosen someone other than Bill but she didn't wish to. That proves that her humanity is not as much a slave to the mating as it would be if she was more Veela. If Malfoy is even less than her it's absolutely possible-"

Ginny held up her hand. "She said that she could have marked someone else but she didn't. Once she marked Bill, that was it. He marked you, Hermione."

Hermione frowned, feeling another shiver course through her. "I don't understand how or why... I mean, if it really is Malfoy, when could he have possibly marked me?"

Ginny snorted. "One of the million times you were out past curfew in the library doing homework?"

Hermione grimaced and frowned deeper. "In my dream, there is a bed with heavy, dark blue coverings and a fire and no windows and candles floating about. If I was really marked at Hogwarts, where on earth could that room be?"

Ginny's eyes went wide and she sat up looking very shocked. "Oh, Merlin! That's the room that the Room of Requirement gives you if you ask for a place to have a tryst. He took you to the Room of Requirement!"

Hermione sat back on her heels in shock. "Oh my goodness! Harry wouldn't have even seen us together on the map if we were there!"

Ginny was almost bouncing with excitement. "And he was there all the time anyways working on that stupid cabinet. He must have lured you in there and used his pheromones to keep you addled. You probably thought you were dreaming."

Hermione was shaking with shock and a surge of resentment. "That git! If he did that I am going to hurt him! He shouldn't have taken advantage-"

Ginny cut her off. "He couldn't have unless you wanted him to, 'Mione. You heard Fleur. You have to want him in return for the pheromones to really work on you. And for the binding spell to have worked like it did, you had to have agreed. You had a torrid affair with a Death Eater! Hermione Granger, you hussy!"

Hermione buried her head in her hands. "How could I have done that?" she wailed.

Ginny laughed. "Hormones, pheromones, fate, and the Room of Requirement. Remember how you wouldn't speak to Harry after he almost killed Malfoy in that bathroom?"

Hermione nodded, feeling a bit sick even thinking about it. "I was so angry with him."

Ginny nodded. "Well, he tried to kill your mate." She sobered. "Hermione, he must have done the spell before the battle. Wow, I wonder how much you knew?"

Hermione really felt nauseous now as she considered that. "I can't imagine I knew much of anything about his plans. Pheromones or not, I couldn't have known he was a Death Eater."

Ginny sat for a moment staring at her friend before she agreed. "No, I don't think you did. And you're right, he wouldn't have told you anything. It was too dangerous to do so, and he wouldn't have put you in danger."

Again, they fell silent before Hermione sighed in frustration. "This is all conjecture, Ginny! We don't even know that it's him!"

Ginny snorted and yanked the parchment back over, picking up the now forgotten quill. "So get writing then, Hermione!"

Hermione sighed and then nodded. "Fine, but I think this is a terrible idea. He's going to think I'm a nutter," she grumbled.

Ginny chortled. "So, what else is new? Now, 'Dear Mr. Draco Malfoy' sounds like a good start."

ooOooOOOo

Draco was sitting in his study working on some reports when the owl tapped at the window. He looked over, frowning at it curiously. It wasn't an owl he recognized and usually the wards didn't let random owls through. He tossed down his quill and opened the window, taking the rolled up parchment from the owl and handing it a treat from the bowl on his desk. The owl hooted at him and then sat there, obviously waiting for a reply. Draco's curiosity went up a notch as he sat down and unrolled the paper.

Dear Mr. Draco Malfoy,

I am sure you remember that the Foundation for the Rights of the Underprivileged in the Magical Community sent you an invitation for the ball in order to raise funds for half-humans. Although I cannot recall at this time if you have accepted or declined this invitation, I admit that I had a rather interesting dream about you that left me compelled to contact you in order to invite you personally to this event.

Dreams are curious things and while I have never put much stock in them or such things as fate and destiny, I have also seen enough to realize that curious things happen all around us.

I know that our time together at school was at best tumultuous. However, we are after all almost five years past such events. It's amazing what can become clearer after five years, don't you think?

After having tea with Fleur Weasley this morning, she seemed to think that this particular event would intrigue you the most. We would be elated if you would design to attend.

I know we were once enemies but we all have our scars, after all. In the end, only we ourselves and those we love know what we were fighting for.

I must say, I am curious to hear about your scars. Perhaps you would like to learn about some of mine?

Hoping I am not too bold,

Hermione Granger

Draco felt the air leave his lungs and started seeing spots. She knew! His bloody mate, too smart for her own good, had figured it out. And she had managed to tell him so without saying an obvious thing that would call attention to her suspicions if she were wrong.

But he knew what she was talking about:

Dreamt of him.

Fate and destiny.

Five years.

The Veela wife of Bill Weasley: Fleur.

And lastly, mentioning her scar!

He sat back in shock and stared at the owl who was eyeing him rather directly. He pulled out his calendar and wasn't at all surprised to see that he had indeed said he would attend this event for her foundation that she had set up after the war. A foundation that he had secretly been funding this whole time, in fact.

It had been part of his stipulations with the Ministry that one-third of his fines be used for any charities supported by the Golden Trio. Every year when he paid his fine, he made sure it went to Hermione's charity and her charity only. Publically, he supported others, of course, but privately he supported hers and only hers.

If the Ministry official found it odd, she never said as much. She just handed him the list and he circled the R.U.M.C, which was the acronym for her foundation. It was an offshoot of the silly ideas she had first started toting while in school over the treatment of house elves. The R.U.M.C campaigned for the rights of magical creatures and half-breeds. They had gotten rights and protections passed in the Ministry for goblins, elves, werewolves, centaurs, giants, vampires, and yes, even Veela.

He rubbed the back of his neck and worked to control his shaking. How much did she know exactly? Did she remember everything? He thought that she must not because the letter had been cordial and he was sure that if Hermione Granger remembered everything they had shared in that secret room in the castle she would be sending him a howler.

He groaned and went back to staring at the owl. It was a good-looking bird really. A barn owl who was clearly well cared for. He wondered if it belonged to his mate.

"What should I say to her then?" He asked the owl who just blinked at him.

Right- like an owl could help him here. Sighing, he closed his eyes and tried to decide how much he was willing to give away in his reply letter. Ultimately, he decided he had better play it safe.

ooOooOooOOo

Hermione grabbed the rolled up parchment from Hermes and gave him a treat thanking him and watching him head over to his cage hooting happily.

With shaking fingers, she carefully unrolled the parchment.

Miss Hermione Granger,

Thank you for your charming note and invitation. Yes, I was planning on attending the ball with my mother who is anxious to make your acquaintance.

It is curious that you should be dreaming of me. I must admit, and please forgive the boldness, that I too have dreamed of you.

Fate is a funny creature, Miss Granger, and can make a mockery of even the best laid intentions. I must say that I hope it is my destiny to be more than the boy you remember me as. Almost five years ago now, I made a choice that has haunted me ever since.

Perhaps someday you will trust me enough to share your scars.

I am thankful that Mrs. Fleur Weasley had kind things to say of me and that she thought of me for this event.

Do let me know if my family may assist you in any way regarding this issue that I assure you we hold dear.

Sincerely yours,

Draco Malfoy

Hermione sank down into the chair and gasped, running her hands over the letter and marveling at his penmanship. He had picked up on every single trap that she and Ginny had set for him in the letter.

He dreamed of her too.

Fate and Destiny.

The five year aspect she suspected.

That he had regrets and wanted to see her scar.

He re-mentioned Fleur, which she found telling.

And then, most importantly, that this event was important to his own family.

That seemed to be him confirming his Veela heritage to her.

She wasn't sure how long she'd sat there staring at the letter. She wanted to write him back; demand he explain himself. But he hadn't invited that. The letter, while telling, didn't necessarily invite her to reach out to him. It was rather formal.

She frowned and looked up as Ginny came in. "Hermes is back, did he reply?"

Hermione nodded and handed over the letter to Ginny, a bit reluctantly.

Ginny sat down and gasped as she read it over, her eyes seeming to narrow at each little hint he had left them.

"It's him," Ginny said softly, "but he's so guarded in his reply."

Hermione nodded. "Yes, I picked up on that. It's very formal."

Ginny looked out the window. "It's so bloody Slytherin of him."

Hermione laughed. "They are a rather guarded lot."

Ginny sighed heavily and got up, turning on the kettle for more tea. "But he said he would be there."

Hermione nodded sobering. "With his mother."

Ginny nodded pensively. "Who might be wishing to meet you? It's hard to tell if he was just being polite or if that was a warning."

Hermione sighed. "A warning. I don't know how I know, but he was warning me that his mother is nervous about meeting me."

Ginny's eyes widened. "You got that just from that short sentence about her?"

Hermione shrugged. "Yes. Can you imagine Narcissa Malfoy being anxious about anything? He is warning me, and I think he hopes I will be kind to her."

Ginny shook her head as if to say she wasn't sure Hermione wasn't going around the bin a bit. But they had to get ready for bed, so Ginny left it alone.

The week was going to be brutal and they had an early morning, after all. Besides, she found herself wishing to fall back into her dreams, to see if she could piece together any hints of what had possibly happened between she and Draco Malfoy.

Notes:
Thank you for all the favorites, follows and reviews. I hope this chapter excites you just as much as the last one. Please read and review.
What was your impression of the letters? They are careful aren't they?

Up Next:
Draco lends a helping hand... or Narcissa does.