Draco
Hermione disappeared right after her flying midterm. I only know that because I made sure to watch her midterm from a distance. Of course, she did brilliantly for someone with no innate flying ability. She was gone within the hour of her test.
My mother and I joined the Zabini family in the islands, regardless of my wanting to stay at the manor. Blaise and I shared a portkey from the front gates and left behind the bitter, icy slush for a tropical oasis.
My mother is sunning herself near the pool and she sits up, "is that my dragon?"
Feeling blood rush to my face, I give Blaise a side-eye.
Blaise looks at me before his own mother sits up, holding a martini in one hand. "BB!" She says with a wide grin. "Let the house elves unpack for you two, darlings. Get changed and come join us!"
BB — Baby Blaise. I almost snort. Our mums are relentless with using our nicknames and using them so freely in front of us.
"C'mon, dragon," Blaise mutters, bumping his shoulder with mine as he starts towards the villa.
"Of course, Baby Blaise," I croon back.
"That's BB to you," he rolls his eyes and I follow him.
Laying out on a lounge chair next to my mother, I sip carefully on a chilled glass of fire whiskey. My sunnies are carefully balanced on the bridge of my nose and my hair is mussed back, as I stare past our deck towards the beach and ocean. Blaise is next to me, lying on his stomach, flicking through a quidditch magazine.
"Now, BB, Draco, tell me is it true what I've heard of Miss Granger? That she's presented as an omega?" Mrs. Zabini adjusts her sun hat and looks at me and Balise.
I can feel Blaise's gaze on me but I ignore him. My mom's head turns to look at me as well.
"It's true," I confirm. "Someone pranked her at the ball and the potion she used to conceal herself was washed away. I thought McGonnagal sent owls to the parents." I arch a brow.
"All she said was an omega presented, no names attached… Heard from–"
"Yes darling, as she said we didn't know who but heard through gossip whom it may be…" My mother nods, cutting off Mrs. Zabini from giving away who.
"Narcissa tells me you've been giving her lessons… does she have any suitors–"
"Mum!" Blaise gasps, "ixnay on the ootoirs-ay," he makes a cutting motion at his throat.
"Oh, well— has there been trouble–"
"Yes and no. But she is very focused on her studies," I get up and toss my sunglasses on my chaise lounge. To end this prying conversation, I dive into the pool. The cool water is relieving against my warm skin and the silence of being underwater is welcomed. Once I come up, I take a deep breath and begin to swim laps.
Hermione
That first night at home is a dream. There is nothing like my home nest, especially with Draco's robe tucked into the pillows. Waking up to Winky's freshly brewed coffee is a welcomed routine as we walk into my study together. I only have five days to get ahead in my next term's courses, brew my scent-inhibiting potion undisturbed, and work on the side project.
Winky sits in the cozy chair, her feet kicking as she sips her tea and watches me move about the enchanted room. She updates me on everything she's been up to through the term that she only briefly mentioned in her letters as I move my cauldron to the corner and set up an extra large batch of scent-inhibiting potion. I take my time to chop and prepare the ingredients, adding them carefully into the bubbling pot. Once I'm certain it's brewing, I stack my books on my desk and look at the happy elf.
"I missed you, Winky. Thank you so much for taking such good care of my cottage," I reach into my purse on my desk and pull out a small coin purse. "I got this coin purse for you in Hogsmeade." I hand it to her and smile. "Happy Christmas. I'll be in heat over the holidays so I wanted to give you your gift now. The other part of it is giving you the rest of the year off, paid of course!"
"Oh, wow Miss! Winky thanks you! I was hoping to go to Hogwarts! This is wonderful!" She laughs and leans forward to give me a hug.
"Of course!" I smile and return the hug. We chat for a bit longer before she pops off, leaving a snack platter in her wake. I settle in with my textbooks, flipping through pages, snacking, and jotting down notes until I reach a good stopping point. Setting my quill aside, I rise from my seat and stretch and leisurely move around my office. Drawing the curtains and lighting candles, the simple non-magical actions bring a sense of calm, allowing me to contemplate the next steps in the project.
With a tap of my wand, the credenza shifts, revealing the pensieve. I close my eyes, focusing on my occlumency against my omega to block out any distractions. As the pensieve glides into the room, I stand before it, clutching a vial of memories tightly. With a deep breath, I gaze into the dark water, attempting to steady my nerves before delving into the memories.
Ginny surprised me with an early Christmas gift—a tiny vial adorned with a red bow. Inside are her memories of her encounters with Tom Riddle. I wish Draco was here. I wanted him to experience this with me. Just ask, my omega whispers and I shake my head. With my heat approaching, I've decided on no visitors, especially given the unpredictability of my cycle lately.
I need this alone time anyway.
Pouring the silvery substance into the pensieve, the room is bathed in an ethereal glow, casting an otherworldly ambiance. The memories within the vial come to life, weaving together the narrative of Ginny's experiences with Tom Riddle that he chose to share with her through his diary.
Coming out of it, I take a deep breath and glance around. I need to look harder, deeper. Consider every aspect of what he showed her. Leaning my head side to side, I draw in another breath. My omega is silent behind the wall and I'm grateful. I lean down towards the pensive again. The memories flood my consciousness pulling me into a realm of darkness and intrigue. I follow each experience with haunting clarity, revealing glimpses of Ginny's encounters with Tom Riddle. I look for any hint of anything that can help me with this project.
I find myself poring over Ginny's memories repeatedly, each time scrutinizing the details until a subtle distortion catches my eye. It's not within Ginny's memory itself, but rather in the memory that Tom Riddle is presenting to her. Why would he manipulate his own memories, the ones he's showing her? The question gnaws at me, fueling an obsessive determination that keeps me confined to my office for the next few days. Mind off Draco and focus on this.
Desperate for answers, I reach out to Harry, requesting any memories he possesses of Tom Riddle. He responds promptly, providing me with a parcel full of vials with silver memories. As I delve into Harry's memories and relive them over and over, I'm able to detect the same imperceptible distortions, so subtle that Harry likely overlooked them during his own experiences.
Two days before my heat, I find myself in the clutches of a haunting nightmare. I was trapped in dark magic like devils snare. The tendrils of dark magic licked up my throat as I struggled against invisible forces, feeling their suffocating grip tightening around me with each passing moment. The darkness threatens to consume me, its malevolent presence whispering sinister promises of eternal captivity. As I fight against the oppressive shadows, my heart races with fear, my mind consumed by a relentless sense of dread. Awakening with a start, I find myself bathed in cold sweat, the remnants of the nightmare lingering like a sinister specter in the corners of my mind.
Running my hand through my damp hair, I mumble an incantation to have the lights in my room turn on. Need alpha, my mind repeats in my head. I reach out with a shaky hand for the water on my side table. After a few charms, I'm laying back in my nest, leaving a light on and Crookshanks close. I think about the dream, what it could mean, and why it's happening so close to my heat.
As sleep is just about to take me, a chilling realization takes hold: the tendrils of dark magic that ensnared me in my dream reminded me of the magic of the tampered memories. Tom Riddle - Voldemort is using dark magic to conceal something in the memories. With a jolt, I bolt upright, propelled by a surge of urgency that sends me scrambling to my office. There, amidst the shelves of ancient tomes and spell books, I feverishly search for volumes that could help me solve this in the short two days I have left before I am useless to the world. Wouldn't be useless to alpha…
But tampering with the dark magic and trying to reach an embedded memory - one I didn't experience - proved to be harmful. Instead of prepping my cottage for my heat, I focus on trying to fix this memory. On the eve of my heat starting, I attempt to use dark magic without any thorough preparation. I should have been more prepared to use dark magic than I was.
It ended up jump-starting my heat. Aside from the aggressive lust, slick, and sensitivity, it is paired with agony and despair. Each wave of pleasure was paired with pain and crashed over me relentlessly, rendering me powerless against its onslaught. The searing ache tore through every fiber of my being, leaving me gasping for breath and trembling with uncontrollable anguish. Every moment felt like an eternity as I grappled with the excruciating torment that engulfed me, the darkness of the night offering little solace against the relentless onslaught of my heat.
My omega is consumed by desire, yearning relentlessly for Draco, for my alpha. I bury myself in every piece of clothing carrying his scent, yet it barely appeases the relentless hunger within my omega.
After days of agony and painful pleasure, the heat leaves my body but leaves behind pure exhaustion. I didn't prepare properly and wasn't able to take care of myself through the heat so I feel extra weak. Silent tears slip down my cheeks as I lay in the damp bedding.
I extend my hand towards my wand, summoning it to my grasp, and with a flick, I conjure a feeble patronus. I mumble out a sentence before sending it off.
I hope he comes for me.
Draco
Christmas day is just a week away, and my alpha is counting down to when Hermione will start her heat—five and a half days. Despite my alpha's urging, trying to convince me to take a portkey back to England so I can apparate myself to her front door, she told me 'no favors,' insisting I leave her alone. My stubborn omega didn't even give me a chance to explain what she overheard. If I had any idea that she wanted to attend the ball, I would have asked her. I need to stop thinking about her, but I can't.
Being in the islands only seems to further irritate my alpha, making it all the more difficult to hold on to the side of myself. No matter how hard I push myself in the pool, run on the beach, or intensely I fly on my broom, chasing a practice snitch, my thoughts inevitably return to her.
The days sped by until I knew she was in her heat, and then time seemed to drag on relentlessly. Restlessness gnawed at my alpha, and tension coiled in my muscles. Blaise's persistent invitations to go out and party only intensified the internal struggle. After enduring four days of torment in what should have been a paradise, I wake up to the intrusion of a bright light in my blacked-out room. My hand fumbles on the bedside table to find my watch, revealing that it is a little after 7:00 AM. Today marks the end of her heat. A silvery light, a Patronus, fills the room, and I rub my eyes as the otter swims about. Why was her Patronus here? Hermione's voice echoed through it in a broken, exhausted tone.
"It hurt again. I think—I think I made it worse."
If it's 7:00 AM here, I know it's 2:00 AM there. Hermione's heat hurt her again, I need to get to her. I get up and flick my wand towards my room to pack my bags. I'll have Blaise bring these back.
I pull on a linen robe and shove my feet into house slippers before starting towards the Zabini wing.
Letting myself into Blaise's room, I squint to see in the darkness and make my way to his overly large bed.
"Zabini!" I say in a low tone, giving him a slight shake. "Wake up!"
A series of unintelligible words come from him and he pulls the expensive duvet over his head.
"Blaise!" I hiss and yank the blanket off his face but keep him mostly covered and magically have the curtains open.
"What the fuck, mate? Are you mental?" He whines and pulls a pillow over his face. "I sleep stark naked. You almost saw my willy!"
Giving him a disgusted look, I mutter "I did not almost see anything, twit."
"Why are you bothering me?" He asks, rolling over and waving his own wand towards the window to close the curtains.
"I need to go back to England. Will you bring my trunk with you when you return to Hogwarts?" I ask, shifting my eyes toward the dark room instead of looking at him.
The pillow gets tossed to the side and he sits up. "Lumos," he stares at me, a knowing glint in his eye. "Why?"
"I have some things to tend to," I choose my words carefully, not wanting to give away why I'm leaving but I know he knows.
"Tell me why and I'll bring your trunk," he barters, his sleepy face looking smug.
My jaw sets and I glare at him in the dim light of his wand.
"Does it have to do with a certain omegan witch who just went through her heat because a certain alpha has been an arse the past few days- even on Christmas!" He shakes his head but his eyes sparkle with mischief.
Gritting my teeth, I shrug. I know I had been a bit aggressive and on edge but I didn't think it was that noticeable. "She needs me, Blaise. I'm going—"
"Go to her, mate," he says dramatically and feigns a faint. "Young love!"
"We are—"
"I swear to Merlin if you say 'we are friends' I'll send you to Granger in a box. I'll bring your stuff back to school. At least tell your mother you're leaving earlier than planned. Can I go back to sleep now?" He starts out with an annoyed growl before it turns to a mumble and he lays back down. "Nox."
"Thanks," I mumble and exit his room and start towards my room for the portkey I had brought me in case of something like this. Not that I expected to use it.
Almost sprinting through the halls, I hurry to my mother's room. I knock clearly and am only a little surprised when she invites me in.
"Good morning," I say as I enter the lavish, tropical chambers.
"Morning, my dragon. You're up rather early for a holiday vacation," she says around the mouth of her teacup, glancing up from the hovering newspaper in front of her.
"It's your holiday as well and you're awake," I comment and sit across from her. My body feels too tight and I need to leave. Her heat just ended and she needs me. She asked for me.
Did she? All she said was it hurt.
"None of that, you know I have a schedule. Now, what do I owe for this early morning chat?" She waves her hand and the tea set begins to pour me a cup.
I go back and forth on how to best approach this with her. I don't have time for tea. "I have to return to England today. I'm sorry to cut my time short here."
"Return for what? School doesn't start until the new year." There's a knowing edge to her tone but I ignore it.
"A friend of mine needs help with something. Blaise will bring back my school trunk when he portkeys back." I explain and take a few polite sips of the black tea that sat in front of me.
"A friend needs help with something? Does this friend have anything to do with the…" her nose wrinkles and she waves a hand. "Alpha angst you've been exhibiting all week?"
I blush and shift my gaze away. "I hardly believe it was that bad–"
"Oh, Draco! It was ghastly. In front of your classmate's mother!" Though her tone suggests chastising, her amused look contrasts it.
"Perhaps it does," I admit quietly and stare into the dark tea cup. I can't tell her about Hermione. Because even I know I'm foolish for being this omega's 'friend'.
"Well, I won't pry further. I can tell you don't wish to speak about it." She sighs and leans back in the chair, "You should know that your friend, young Mr. Zabini holds entertaining conversations and likes to overshare his thoughts when he's had a bit too much fire whiskey." Her light eyes watch me carefully.
"Doesn't surprise me," I shrug and stand, choosing to not engage with her regarding Hermione. "Thank you for understanding why I'm leaving early. I'll be at the manor after helping Her-my friend." I lean down and press a light kiss on her cheek. "Love you, mum."
"Love you, dragon." She pats my cheek with a gentle fondness before waving her hand.
With her dismissal, I exit her room at an appropriate speed before pulling the door shut and running down the hall back to my room and grabbing a few essentials into my leather duffel before picking up the portkey and going out to the back patio.
Carefully, I set it down and take a deep breath. Reaching down, I pick it up and feel the pull in my stomach as I'm hurtling through space and magic to the UK entry point. It's dark but not invisible.
My feet touch the familiar cobblestone of my home country and I'm popping off immediately to where I know Granger is.
Her cottage and small piece of land are settled against the ink-black sky that is sprinkled with stars and no moon. I carefully scent the air. No scent of her heat. Or even her.
It takes everything in me to not sprint to her front door and knock incessantly.
As expected I feel the wards as I walk through. I'm able to walk through? Hermione is too smart for me to just—she let me walk through it. Now within the protective bubble of her property, I can smell her.
The amber and honey swallow me alive, it feels like her scent is hypnotizing me. I'm not even able to grasp reality to build up my occlumency. My mouth waters at the sweet hint of cinnamon and desire that's oozing from the modest cottage.
This is her space. And I'm about to—
"Alpha?"
I doubt that I've heard it all with how faint and far away it sounds. But that's my omega, calling for me.
Jogging down the path, I knock once loudly. "Hermione! I'm here!" I call out and try the door. It's locked, of course, and after a few difficult attempts, I'm pulling open the white door and my knees buckle. If the bubble around her land is enough to swallow me whole, her house will drown me. I can taste the slick, sweet scent of her heat. My heart races, my hands begin to tremble and I'm drinking in as much of her as possible. A selfish, perverted alpha. I didn't realize how much the castle did for her to make this scent dissipate. She didn't even ask for me to—
"Up here, alpha," her voice calls out for me.
She's asking for me.
A grumpy mrow pulls me from finding the stairs and I look at the ginger cat. "You've taken good care of our girl?" I ask Crookshanks and he weaves between my legs before he runs off down the hall with a loud meow.
Am I really going to follow a bloody cat? Resolving that I'm sure he knows what I'm trying to do and where I'm trying to go, I go down the dark hallway and see his ginger tail go through an entryway and disappear. I take the stairs two at a time and watch the familiar disappear through an ajar door.
Please don't do anything reckless, I beg of my alpha and steel myself. It's going to smell much more potent going through that door than anything I've experienced with her just yet. And I'm nervous to see the way my omega will look.
Hermione
His voice, I can hear him. My alpha came. It's too close to the end for me to be able to fully control my omega. I feel like weeping in relief when I can smell him.
"Alpha," I whimper out, shifting my head to look at the door Crookshanks came through.
The door is pushed open and my alpha stands in the doorway. "Omega," he rumbles out. "I'm here now," he walks in, picks up the throw blanket from the chair in my room, and puts it over my barely covered form. "I'll take care of you." He says gently and smoothes my damp curls back off my forehead.
I melt into his touch and my eyes close as I can finally relax.