"Accept the things to which fate binds you, and love the people with whom fate brings you together, but do so with all your heart."

Marcus Aurelius

III

Hermione arrived at the Malfoy manor, fully aware of what awaited her. She knew she would be facing an impolite bully who had tormented her for years. Their history was filled with rivalry and prejudice, and they had absolutely nothing in common. As expected, he cracked a harsh jest, his voice dripping with sour mockery.

Anger and disgust surged within the witch, but she remained composed as she stared at him. With a dismissive tone, she made her intentions clear. "I'm here to see your mother, not to listen to your insults."

Draco clenched his fists in frustration and fear, his nails digging into his palms. He hissed at her, his voice filled with tension and anger. "You're here to do your job? You're here to help her? Then why did you ignore my letter?"

A twinge of guilt and regret washed over the witch, causing her shoulders to droop as she let out a sigh. Her voice carried sincerity and apology as she explained herself. "I didn't ignore your letter. I was in Australia with my parents. I just returned this morning."

Malfoy felt a flicker of doubt and curiosity, causing his eyebrows to raise and his eyes to widen. His voice carried an incredulous and suspicious tone as he questioned her. "You were in Australia, Granger? Is that your excuse?"

Hermione's annoyance and impatience flared up when she noticed Draco's disbelief. His cold eyes and clenched jaw made it clear that he was angry. He seemed on the verge of hexing her, but somehow managed to control himself. The witch instinctively tried to put distance between them, but it only seemed to agitate him further. He followed closely behind her, as if harboring distrust.

Through gritted teeth, Draco spoke, "Thank you for coming, Granger. I hope you know what you're doing."

Ignoring his tone, she inquired, "How is your mother? Is there any improvement in her condition?"

He guided her to Narcissa's room, where the woman lay in bed. Her pale skin and labored breathing were evident, and the dark circles under her eyes starkly contrasted with her blond hair. Despite her illness, Hermione couldn't deny that she still possessed a certain beauty. However, she also noticed a faint glow surrounding Narcissa, a telltale sign of her fae heritage.

Suspecting that the Blacks had Veela blood in their lineage, the witch asked Draco, "How much fae blood does she have? It's incredibly rare for a Veela to survive the death of their mate, let alone fall ill like this."

With a tenderness and care that surprised her, Malfoy sat by his mother's side and gently held her hand. Love and pain mingled in his gaze as he looked at her.

"She is a pure-blood Veela. Still, despite her heritage, Mother is still greatly affected by the bond. Lucius cursed her into marrying him and believing he was her true mate. He desired a trophy wife and used a dark ritual to forcefully bind her to him against her will."

Hermione gasped, familiar with the existence of such rituals but never witnessing one firsthand. She knew them to be both illegal and immoral, requiring significant amounts of blood. The witch couldn't help but wonder how Lucius had managed to successfully execute it and what he had sacrificed in return.

Curiosity getting the better of her, she asked, "How did you discover this?"

Draco averted his gaze, his voice tinged with sadness. "On the night he died, she revealed it to me. Mother admitted to never loving Lucius, always despising him. Expressing regret for raising me under his shadow, she longed for freedom and to find her true mate. Yet, the curse proved too powerful, consuming her very soul.."

A wave of pity washed over her for Narcissa. She had been a victim of a cruel fate, a mere pawn in a game of power. Hermione couldn't help but wonder if Lady Malfoy had ever experienced true happiness or known genuine love.

"Do you know if your mother is perhaps a changeling?" Granger inquired, her voice filled with empathy.

The wizard looked at her, confusion etched on his face. "No, I don't. I always believed it to be a myth or an extremely rare mutation. Why do you ask?"

Taking a deep breath, the witch prepared to share her knowledge. "It's neither a myth nor a rare mutation. It's a tradition—a deeply ancient and sacred one among the high fae. They place their children in human households to be raised by them, to learn from them, to experience the human world. They do it for various reasons—protection, curiosity, or even love. Still, they always have a purpose, a plan for their children, a destiny they wish for them to fulfill. Your mother was robbed of her own fate."

He snorted dismissively. "Please, Granger. Spare me the nonsense. I'm too cursed to believe in destiny. The only fate I know is the one I make for myself. And right now, my fate is to save my mother. Or die trying."

The witch had a theory about Narcissa's condition. She proceeded to explain to Malfoy that his mother was under the influence of a blood curse known as Vinculum Mortis, or the bond of death. It was a dark and ancient magic capable of binding a Veela to someone who was not their true mate.

Curiosity mixed with tension, Draco asked, "Where did you learn about this curse?"

"I heard about it from Fleur Weasley, who happens to be a quarter Veela herself," Hermione replied, her voice serious. "She informed me that it is one of the most feared and forbidden spells among the fae. Evil wizards and witches have used it to enslave and torment Veelas, turning them into personal slaves and concubines."

Her expression remained grave as she continued, "The curse has a devastating effect on Narcissa's well-being. It drains her life force and subjects her to excruciating suffering. She is slowly dying, and there is only one way to save her: breaking the curse."

Malfoy looked at her, a mixture of hope and disbelief in his eyes. "Can you do it? Can you break the curse?"

Nodding confidently, the witch replied, "I believe so. But, it won't be an easy task. It requires a significant amount of magic and entails substantial risks. Are you willing to assist me?"

Draco hesitated momentarily, torn between his distrust of Hermione and his love for his mother. Ultimately, he nodded resolutely. "Yes. I'll do whatever it takes."

A small smile tugged at her lips. "Good. Then let's begin."

Approaching Narcissa, Granger cast a complex spell, enveloping her in a soothing blue light that created a stasis charm. Turning back to the wizard, she explained, "This will keep her stable for now. However, we need to locate the source of the curse. It must be somewhere within this house. Do you have any idea where it could be?"

Malfoy shook his head, his frustration evident. "No. I've searched everywhere, but I've found nothing. My father was incredibly secretive, with numerous hidden chambers and vaults. He could have hidden it anywhere."

Hermione frowned, determination etched on her face. "Then we'll need to search even harder. Come on, let's go. Time is running out."

Taking his hand firmly, she pulled Draco along with her. A peculiar sensation stirred within his chest, unfamiliar yet somehow connected to her. He wondered if it was a sign of something more profound, something he had never experienced before.

As the witch cast another spell on his mother, his anger flared up, fearing her intentions were malicious or even fatal. He leaped from his chair and rushed towards her, gripping her arms and forcefully pulling her away from Narcissa. He shouted, his voice filled with disdain, "What do you think you're doing, you filthy mudblood? Keep away from her! Don't you dare lay a finger on her!"

A surge of pain shot through Hermione's arms as he tightened his grip. She struggled to break free, but his strength was overpowering. She yelled back, her voice filled with frustration, "Let me go, you brute! I was only trying to help her! Can't you understand?"

His yellowish eyes, blazing with rage and suspicion, bore into her. He refused to believe her words. With a snarl, he accused her, "You're lying. You're attempting to deceive and betray me. You're working for them, aren't you? The ones who cursed her, who desire her death. You're one of them. You're an enemy."

A chill ran down Hermione's spine as she met his gaze. The situation was far more complex than she had initially thought. Half-Veelas like him didn't possess golden eyes; only full-blooded creatures exhibited such a striking eye color change. The witch recalled Fleur's warnings about male Veelas, their immense power and volatile nature, particularly when threatened or angered. She realized she needed to calm him down, to make him see reason and trust her.

Speaking in a soft, soothing tone, she attempted to reassure him. "No, Malfoy, it's not true. I'm not lying. I'm here to help you, to help Narcissa. Please, believe me."

Draco's amber eyes were filled with doubt and confusion as he struggled to comprehend his emotions. A peculiar warmth radiated from his chest, an unfamiliar sensation that left him bewildered. He felt an inexplicable pull towards Granger, a connection that defied explanation. Questions flooded his mind. What was this feeling? What did it signify? What did it demand of him?

Suddenly, his eyes transformed once again, now a deep, captivating butterscotch hue. Hermione's heart skipped a beat as she recognized the change and a surge of fear coursed through her veins. Although her knowledge of magical creatures was limited, she understood it was an ominous sign. It meant that Draco was losing control, succumbing to his primal instincts, and becoming a threat. She knew she had to create distance, to escape his dangerous presence.

With a guttural growl, Malfoy advanced towards her, causing her to retreat until her back pressed against the wall. Panic surged within her as she desperately sought an escape route, only to find herself trapped. He blocked the door, and the window was too far to reach. Her options dwindled. His hands reached out, poised to grab her, his mouth primed to attack.

In sheer terror, Hermione screamed and forcefully pushed him away, utilizing every ounce of her strength. She sprinted towards the door, hoping to unlock it and flee to safety. But he pursued her with a speed and agility that surpassed her own. The witch reached the door, only to discover it locked.

Fumbling with the doorknob, she attempted to free herself from his grasp. Yet, he caught up, his arms encircling her waist, his sharp teeth grazing her neck. She fought back, delivering kicks and punches in a desperate bid for freedom. His grip tightened, his determination to subdue her intensifying. Granger felt his breath against her ear as he whispered, "You're mine, mate. You're mine."

Hermione's heart raced with panic. She quickly recalled that her wand was still safely tucked away in her pocket. With hopes that he wouldn't notice, she discreetly reached for it. Unfortunately, her actions did not go unnoticed. He immediately tried to prevent her from retrieving her wand. Engulfed in determination, she fought back and successfully gained possession of her wand. Without hesitation, she pointed it towards the window and exclaimed, "Alohomora!"

In response to her spell, the window swung open, allowing a strong gust of wind to rush into the room. For a fleeting moment, Hermione felt relief and a glimmer of hope. She believed that perhaps she had a chance to escape. Yet, her hopes were shattered. The Veela felt the force of the wind and experienced a surge of power. Embracing his newfound freedom, he spread his wings wide and reveled in the exhilaration. With a victorious sensation coursing through him, he effortlessly lifted the witch into the air. Triumphantly, he soared out of the window, savoring the ecstasy of his flight.

Overwhelmed by the shocking turn of events, Hermione's mind was filled with a mixture of astonishment and wonder. As she gazed upon his magnificent wings, she couldn't help but be captivated by the sight, though it also evoked a sense of madness. The intensity proved to be too much for her fragile state, causing her to lose consciousness.

Hermione's eyes fluttered open, greeted by the sensation of strong arms wrapped tightly around her. As her surroundings came into focus, she found herself in a lavishly adorned room, with the signature Slytherin green and silver hues.

The walls were adorned with portraits of stern-faced Malfoys, while the furniture exuded an air of opulence with its dark wood and leather accents. The bed she lay upon was spacious and inviting. It didn't take long for the witch to realize that she was in Draco Malfoy's room, and the person holding her was none other than Draco himself.

A surge of panic coursed through Hermione's veins, compelling her to free herself from his grasp. She squirmed and thrashed, desperately hoping to awaken him from his slumber. Finally, the wizard stirred, his eyes returning to their usual gray color. He regarded her with a mix of surprise and annoyance, his voice laced with frustration as he shouted, "What are you doing in my bed, Granger? How did you get here? Get off me!"

With a forceful push, Draco released her and rose from the bed. Swiftly, he reached for his wand, pointing it at her as if anticipating an attack. Reacting instinctively, Hermione also sprang out of the bed, her hand grasping her wand from the nearby nightstand. The two locked eyes, their expressions filled with defiance, poised for an imminent confrontation.

Attempting to regain composure and defuse the tension, the witch spoke with a measured tone, "Malfoy, please listen to me. We need to talk. The situation is far more complex than you realize. Something has happened to you, something that has changed you. It's connected to your mother."

Dismissing her words with a snort, Draco lowered his wand slightly. He retorted, "Don't speak to me about my mother, Granger. You know nothing about her. You know nothing about me. You're just a know-it-all mudblood who believes she can solve everything with a book and a wand. Well, you can't. You can't help her. You can't help me. So just leave me alone."

With determination in his eyes, he turned on his heel and made his way towards the door. Swiftly, he swung it open and delivered his cutting words, "Get out of my room, Granger. Get out of my house. Get out of my life. And don't ever come back."

Undeterred, she followed closely behind, pleading with him to pause and listen. Her voice filled with sincerity, she implored, "Malfoy, wait. Please, hear me out. I'm here because I care. I care about you."

Stopped in his tracks, he regarded her with a mix of disbelief and seething anger. His response dripped with bitterness, "You care about me? Don't make me laugh. You hate me. You always have. You always will."

She shook her head, her expression filled with sincerity and determination. "No, I don't hate you. I don't want to mock you, humiliate you, or destroy you. I want to save Narcissa. To save you."

He gazed at her, a mixture of curiosity and confusion evident in his eyes. "What is it that you want to do?"

The witch took a deep breath, gathering her thoughts. "I'm trying to reveal the truth to you, Malfoy. The truth about yourself, about your mother."

He raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued yet still uncertain. "The truth? What truth? What on earth are you talking about, Granger?"

Hermione's eyes bore into Draco's, a mixture of seriousness and sincerity evident in her gaze. "I know that you are a full-blooded Veela, Malfoy," she stated.

His shock and disbelief were palpable as he stared back at her. "You're crazy. I'm not a Veela. I'm not a fae," he protested.

Turning away, the wizard began to walk downstairs urging Hermione to follow. "Come on, Granger. Let's go to my office. Let's talk about something more important. My mother."

They arrived at Draco's office, a spacious and elegant room adorned with a grand desk, a crackling fireplace, and a bookshelf housing rare and ancient tomes. He took a seat and faced the witch, curiosity etched on his features. "So, what's your plan?" he inquired. "How do you intend to help my mother?"

Hermione met his gaze, her voice brimming with determination. "I will need your assistance in performing an ancient Druid ritual. It's the only way to free your mother from the clutches of the blood curse."

Outsmarting such a powerful and sinister curse was a risky and complex process, but it was the only way to save her. The ritual had to be performed on the night of the lunar eclipse, as it was the most potent and auspicious time for such magic.

With the upcoming lunar eclipse just a few days away, Hermione knew time was running out. The witch understood that she would have to come back to the manor every day to make the necessary preparations. This involved collecting the required ingredients, studying the incantations, and, most challenging of all, synchronizing their magic to function as one.