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My Savior	By : ShelbieRae Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 9303 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own harry Potter, and I make no profit from this story.

Chapter List
- 9
- 10
- 11
A/N: I'm finally going to throw you guys a bone in this chapter. Stay tuned, our favorite characters just may come to their senses!
Hermione was sitting the in the common room, working on a Potions essay, when Draco stalked in, an air of annoyance surrounding him.
Hermione's brow furrowed, and she spoke up, "Are you alright, Draco?" she asked slowly.
They had been spending more and more time together recently, getting to know each other, just like Hermione had wished to do. To his credit, Draco had been patient, and the perfect gentleman. She had learned that his favorite was actually red, a fact she never let him forget, his favorite book was Pride and Prejudice, much to Hermione's joy, because she loved Jane Austen, and he absolutely love the television his mother had bought when it became clear his father would never come home. His favorite Quidditch team was the Falmouth Falcons, and his favorite subject was Potions, despite his father urging him to study Defense Against the Dark Arts the hardest.
He had learned much the same things about Hermione. Her favorite color was yellow, and her favorite book was actually Anna Karenina, because it taught Hermione that following your heart could have dire consequences. He also learned that she didn't watch TV very much, mostly because she preferred to lose herself in a good book instead. He could barely contain himself when she revealed that she hated Quidditch and flying was her worst nightmare. This had appalled him, and he had clutched his heart in jest, causing her to giggle.
Much in the way talking about the small things had come easily, they were both actively avoiding talking about the hard things, especially the events during the War. Hermione had yet to broach the subject; she was struggling to talk about it at all. She didn't want to burst the delicate bubble they were residing in; she found she enjoyed being around Draco, when he wasn't being a prat, he was amicable. He could actually be charming, funny, sweet, and easy to open up to.
Though she had been able to come to terms with these discoveries, there was a part of her that was still extremely hesitant to trust that Draco was interested in actually being with her; she was having trouble believing that he was sincere, or that she truly wanted romance with him. Her body would protest urgently when she had these thoughts and that was precisely what held her back. She could not decide if she truly was falling for him, or if it was the mate in her urging her to do so.
Draco's grumbled reply brought her back to the present.
"I'm fine," he answered quietly, keeping his head down, refusing to look at her.
Hermione instantly became skeptical; Draco would normally come back to the common room with a smile on his face. He was also avoiding her gaze, as if he didn't want her to look at him.
Hermione stood and walked over to him. He tried to rush past her, but she grabbed his soft hand, and he stopped dead in his tracks. She tugged at his hand softly, and he finally turned to face her. When his face came into view, Hermione gasped.
Litter along Draco's jaw were bruises. Both of his eyes were blackened, and his lip was split. Carefully, so as not to hurt him, she cradled his face so that she could get a better look at his injuries. Anger coursed through her, and a desperate need rose in her to defend and protect her mate. A slight growl escaped her throat, surprising them both.
"What happened," Hermione grit out through clenched teeth.
Draco had the intelligence to look slightly scared, but reluctantly answered her anyway, "I was on my way back to the dorm, and I felt a hard blow on the back of my head," Draco murmured quietly.
Hermione's fists clenched as he continued, looking at the floor, determined not to look at her, "The blow knocked me to the ground, and I rolled over onto my back. I-I was trying to get up." Draco's voice cracked and Hermione's heart broke. A tear rolled down her cheek.
"As I tried to sit up, two sets of hands grabbed me and held me down. A third person swung at me and connected with my face. Before I knew it, fists and feet were flying at me from every direction. I kept begging them to stop… I just wanted it to stop." Draco finished in a whisper.
Tears were rolling down Hermione's face now, and she pulled Draco to her gently, trying to comfort him to the best of her ability. His arms came around her, and her sadness was, yet again, replaced by white hot fury.
"We need to go straight to McGonagall," Hermione stated firmly.
"No," Draco stated firmly, "I don't want anyone to know about this," he explained weakly.
"And why the hell not?" Hermione questioned in anger, "This is so ridiculous! You were ATTACKED. The violence and the hatred was supposed to end with that BLOODY WAR!" Hermione roared, throwing her hands in the air.
"Granger…" Draco attempted to interject, but it was no use.
"I did not lay my life on the line, stay in hiding for months, deal with Ronald's pathetic sniveling and Harry's mood swings, fight for my right to be recognized as a person when it shouldn't have been in question in the first place, I didn't lose my parents—" Hermione choked on a sob when she mentioned her parents.
Draco froze. Surely, he hadn't heard her correctly. She had lost her parents?
Guilt surged through him, sure it was somehow his fault. If had just kept his mouth shut, if he had made it to his dorm room before she could question him, he could have avoided causing her pain.
Draco had not known that her parents were dead. He knew that the Dark Lord had been adamant about finding the Grangers, in hopes that they would lure Hermione out of hiding, bringing Harry with her. Other than hearing the initial order to track her parents down, Draco had heard nothing else regarding the Grangers.
Bringing himself back to the present, he tried to decide how to approach the matter. What would she be comfortable with? Would she allow him to hold her? Would she want that? Doubts swirled in Draco's mind while Hermione stood there shaking. The second Draco made the conscious decision to move towards Hermione and wrap her in his arms, her sad eyes met his tormented ones.
"I'm going to head to bed, I'll talk to you tomorrow," she said quietly, wrapping her arms protectively around herself.
"Hermione wait—" Draco protested, reaching towards her.
Before he could grab her, she was rushing up the stairs and slamming her door. Draco sighed heavily, and dropped his head. He wandered over to the couch in front of the fire and threw himself down. Dropping his head in his hands, he sighed heavily in defeat.
When Hermione woke up the next morning, she felt as though she had barely slept. Her wand was vibrating and ringing shrilly in her ear. Groaning, she slapped her hand down on her bedside table, and slowly sat up, looking around her room. With a heavy sigh, she crawled out of bed to ready herself for her day.
Deciding to forego a shower, in interest of avoiding Draco after her outburst that had surely freaked him out, she pulled on her school robes with reluctance. Checking out her reflection in the mirror, she nodded in a satisfaction. It would have to do, given how tired she was.
Tiptoeing towards the door, she peaked down the stairs into the common room to see if Draco was waiting for her. Hermione secretly chastised herself for being such a coward, she was a war hero for Godric's sakes, but she simply couldn't face him after the spectacle she had created. Surely, he thought her too emotional, or even questioned why she cared. And why did she? Malfoy had tormented plenty of people during his formative years, Hermione being one of his prime victims, why was she enraged that he had gotten a taste of his own medicine last night?
Hermione winced as guilt struck her heart. She knew exactly why. Hermione was a firm believer in justice and fairness. There was no doubt about that, but above all, she was a believer in humanity. If they lost their humanity, where did that leave them in the midst of the aftermath of a war fought to defend the very concept of it?
Draco deserved a second chance as much as any of the others. The sole purpose of fighting and winning the war was to solidify the concept that they were all human and deserved to be treated as such.
Shaking free of her thoughts, she wandered out into the common room, having determined that Draco was not there. Throwing her bag over her shoulder, she clambered out of the portrait hole and set out for the Great Hall.
"Hey, 'Mione!" she heard someone call out behind her. Turning around, she came face to face with Neville.
"Hello, Neville," she murmured with a warm smile. She slowed her pace so that Neville could catch up with her.
With Neville's long strides, it didn't take him long to reach her. He greeted her with an equally warm smile, and inquired, "How are you, Hermione?"
"I'm doing just fine, Neville, how are you doing? How are you feeling about your classes?" Hermione inquired.
"I think I'll survive Herbology and Transfiguration, but you know that Potions has never been my strong suit," he joked and nudged her playfully.
Hermione giggled and answered in turn, "We all knew that the moment you tried to brew your first potion."
Neville laughed good-naturedly and slung a casual, friendly arm around her shoulders, "With friends like you to help me, I'm sure I can manage to scrape through the year."
Draco was running late. He despised running late; it was a trait that was beaten out of him at a young age. If you were not 15 minutes early to everything, you were decidedly late.
As he was rounding the corner he heard a distinct shout.
"Hey 'Mione!"
Draco stopped dead in his tracks, and flattened himself against the wall. The Veela inside him was humming in approval, and a heady intoxicant flowed in Draco's blood. His breathing increased rapidly, and he fought to quiet it.
Peering around the corner, he saw her. Her beautiful chestnut hair flowed down her back in natural curls, and her scent wafted towards him, filling his nostrils. He sighed in content.
Neville Longbottom's voice once again shattered the trance that Malfoy was captured in.
"How are you, Hermione?"
Draco growled and tried to calm himself down. He had been making progress with Hermione, and it would not do to let his Veela attack one of her friends just for talking to her.
At least, that was what he told himself, until he saw him put an arm around her shoulders.
He immediately felt his fangs elongate, and his fingernails dug into his palms. He had to physically shove himself against the wall to keep from leaping at Longbottom, especially after he heard Hermione giggle and continue down the hall with him.
Breaking from his trance once they were out of his earshot, his slid down the wall, practically gasping for air. He hung his head in his hands.
This girl was going to be the death of him.
By the time lunch rolled around, Draco was sure he was going to lose every bit of cool he had. He was sure that Longbottom was doing nothing out of the ordinary, but he might as well have been dry humping his mate for how his Veela was acting. He felt as though he was being torn apart from the inside, like his Veela was trying to claw his way out.
When they finally made it to Transfiguration, Draco had permanently scarred him palms, he was sure of it. His fists were sore from clenching all day, and his lip hurt where his fangs had punctured it.
In short, Hermione was unknowingly driving him nuts. She wasn't even doing it on purpose, that he was sure of. She had no way of knowing the effect she was having on him.
A giggle erupted from the doorway that set Draco's teeth on edge. Hermione and Longbottom walked through the door, along with the young Weaselette. They all sat down in the front, giving Draco an uninterrupted view of Longbottom shamelessly flirting with his mate.
Draco couldn't help but zero in on Longbottom's hand as it rested on Hermione's shoulder. He growled, and he was certain he would have jumped up and ripped Longbottom's arm off right then and there had Professor McGonagall not entered the classroom to begin their lesson.
Draco was sure he was paranoid at this point. Surely Draco was not witnessing the Goody-Two-Shoes bookworm continuing to whisper and laugh quietly with Longbottom after the lesson began. Hermione had always placed her education above everything else, and here Longbottom was, distracting her from what she loved the most.
Draco almost jumped up again to claw Longbottom's eyes out with his bare hands when he watched him lean over to whisper something in Hermione's ear. Draco's entire body was twitching from the effort not to attack Hermione's friend. He knew that it would significantly set their relationship back, and she would never forgive him.
Draco lost all rational thought related to self-restraint the minute Longbottom's hand landed on Hermione's knee mid-chuckle.
Later, he would say he didn't remember bursting out of his chair.
Later, he would say he didn't remember letting a feral growl escape his throat.
Later, he would say he certainly didn't remember yelling at Longbottom.
"Stop it," he bit out, "STOP touching her!"
The entire class stopped dead in their tracks and turned to blink at him in shock. His eyes zeroed in on Longbottom, who had the decency to look terrified, much to Draco's quiet satisfaction. His eyes moved to McGonagall, who, for once in his time knowing her, seemed to be too shocked to utter a word. Finally, his eyes came to rest on Hermione, who seemed to be the only one not staring at him in shock or terror.
She was furious.
Draco knew this, and not just because he could feel the turbulent yet deliberate flow of her fury coursing through his veins, but because he had been at the receiving end of Hermione Granger's anger plenty of times in his life, enough to know that that life could very well soon be over.
However, before Hermione could exact Draco's sure demise, McGonagall seemed to come to her senses.
"Mr. Malfoy!" McGonagall screeched, "What is the meaning of this utterly ridiculous and inappropriate outburst?"
Draco at least had the decency to look chagrined, before hastily grabbing his things and rushing out the door. Once outside the classroom, he slid down the wall for the second time that day, and he looked at his shaky hands in frustration.
What was he going to do? That frustrating woman was driving him to an early grave, and after his outburst in the classroom, he wasn't so sure she wasn't going to personally put him there quicker. Dropping his head to his knees, he sighed heavily in defeat.
Hermione was furious. How dare he embarrass her like that? She marched the Great Hall for dinner, fully intending to approach the Slytherin table and give him a piece of her mind.
But when she got there, Draco was no where to be found. Rounding on the opposite side of the table, she saw Pansy Parkinson and Blaise Zabini staring at her and talking amongst themselves. Stealing herself and mustering up some of that famous Gryffindor courage, she stalked towards the pair.
"Where's Malfoy?" she harshly questioned them, with far more courage than she was actually feeling.
Blaise had the decency to roll his eyes and decline to her answer her, which was far more civil than she was expecting. Pansy, however, reacted with the same amount of malice she was expecting from both of them.
"How should we know? He's probably off defending blood traitors and Mudbloods like you, you disgusting excuse for a creature." Pansy spat at her.
Hermione merely rolled her eyes and stalked to the Gryffindor table. She should have known that trying to talk to those two would be useless.
"Hey 'Mione!" she heard as she approached the table, "Are you okay?"
Hermione glanced up and met the eyes of Neville, staring at her curiously.
"Yeah," she sighed as she sat down at the table, "I'm fine."
Neville eyed her curiously but didn't question her further.
"Did you guys see Malfoy's outburst today," Neville turned to ask Luna and Ginny, giving Hermione her peace.
Ginny quickly made eye contact with Hermione before turning to Neville and answering.
"Yes, I wonder what had him so very upset," Ginny questioned in an exaggerated curious voice.
Hermione promptly kicked her under the table, earning a glare from her red-head friend.
"He did seem quick upset," Luna said dreamily, "but it is the month of the dragon after all, so it would make sense that he's on edge."
They all stared at Luna blankly, before Neville answered her.
"Yes, love, I'm sure that's it," he murmured, placing a protective arm around her shoulders.
Hermione smiled, happy for the young couple. They had all been through so much, and it was so great to see something so beautiful come out of it.
She spoke up, "I'm sure he's just feeling the stress of the last year of school, just like the rest of us," she reasoned.
Neville gave her a suspicious and disbelieving look before slowly answering.
"Yeah… I suppose that could be true." He said slowly.
Ginny gave her a knowing look from across the table, but said nothing.
After an awkward pause, the table returned to the normal chatter of everyday life, and Hermione gave a sigh of relief.
This man was going to be the death of her, she was sure of it.
After dinner, Hermione renewed her purposeful stride and stormed into the common room, prepared to find Draco there, so she could finally confront him.
What she wasn't prepared for, was Draco sitting on the couch with his head in his hands, in such a contrite position. Before she could allow herself to feel bad however, she reminded herself of the burning embarrassment he had thrust upon her this afternoon, and she steeled her resolve. Throwing her bag down, she marched to stand in front of him.
"What the hell was that this afternoon, Malfoy?" she spat with her hands on her hips.
"So, it's back to "Malfoy" now, is it?" he drawled sarcastically, head still in hands.
Though it was quite unbecoming and childlike, Hermione stopped her foot with her next reply.
"Damn it, Malfoy, I'll not deal with the cheek! I want an answer!"
He finally looked up at her, and Hermione gasped. His eye had turned the bright shade of silver again, and he looked angry.
"How about you give me some answers?" he growled angrily, standing up and towering over her.
For her part, Hermione did take a few steps back. Malfoy really had gained height in the last few years. She couldn't help but notice how much taller he was than her; she barely came to his shoulder. He had also filled out handsomely. His arms were bigger, and his shoulders had broadened.
Shaking herself free of her wandering thoughts, she glared up at him and straightened up, trying to make herself seem just a little bit taller.
"What kind of explanation could I possibly owe you?" she questioned indignantly.
He growled at her and spat his reply.
"Why were you flirting with Longbottom all day?" he seethed.
Hermione snapped her gaze to his silver, swirling pools.
"F-Flirting?" she sputtered, "what on earth gave you such a ridiculous idea?"
"Don't play coy, I saw you today," he sneered, looking very much like his old self, "having your hands all over him, giggling flirtatiously at everything he says—"
Before she could control herself, Hermione shoved one of his shoulders.
"How" shove "dare" shove "you!" she screeched, shoving his shoulder with each word, "You don't get to accuse me of anything! I'm not your girlfriend, Draco, and you have no control over me!
Draco let of a frustrated growl and grabbed her shoulders, shoving her against the wall nearest to the fireplace.
Upon feeling her back hit the wall, Hermione let out a gasp, remembering what happened the last time they ended up in this position. Her eyes flew to Draco's and she bit her lip when she saw that his fangs had shown themselves.
His eyes zeroed in on her lips and he let out a moan when he found her lip trapped between her teeth. He dragged his eyes back to hers and they darkened.
"I may not control you," he whispered darkly, "but you are mine, and mine alone."
Hermione opened her mouth to argue, but her breath caught in her throat when his head dropped to her neck, and he ran his lips over the vein, inhaling deeply.
"Gods, you smell so good, mea lux," he murmured near her ear. She sighed happily upon hearing the endearment. The mate in her hummed happily.
Without thinking, Hermione moaned in pleasure; having him so close, yet so far away was pure torture. His masculine scent filled her senses and invaded her mind in the most amazing way. She couldn't think straight.
Finally, she came to her senses and pushed on his shoulder, lightly this time.
"Draco," she said breathlessly, "we need to talk about this."
Reluctantly, he pulled his head back and met her gaze. She was relieved to find that his eyes had turned their normal shade of grey, and the fangs had sheathed themselves.
"You're probably right, darling," he sighed shakily.
Hermione smiled at his pet name, and put her hand on his cheek.
"It's going to be okay," she said warmly, coming to her own private decision.
Draco immediately felt calm invade his senses, but he didn't back away from her. The Veela in him wouldn't allow him to separate himself from his mate.
Accepting that he wasn't going to let her go, Hermione wrapped her arms around his neck and looked into his eyes.
"I need you to tell me what happened today," she murmured softly.
Sighing, Draco answered her, somewhat reluctantly.
"Hermione… seeing you with any male…even if it is Longbottom… it drives the Veela in me… it drives me insane. I care about you. I want you. I need you… and it's hard to even see you around other guys," he finished with a whisper, dropping his head.
Hermione bit her lip and stared at him. She had never realized what her actions were doing to him. She had never been in this situation before, she didn't know how to act. She didn't want to cause him any unnecessary pain, but she was not sure that she could allow herself to trust him enough to be with him. To actually trust him with her heart.
"Draco, I understand that this is hard, this is an unprecedented experience for both of us. But, I need you to understand something: I will not be owned. I am not yours to order around, and I will not be giving up my friends to make you comfortable. I am my own person. This can, whatever it is or will become, will never work otherwise," she rambled.
Draco hung his head and so very imperceptibly, nodded his head.
"Hermione, I know I am not the kind of man you deserve. I know I'm not the sweet, doting, loving man you should be with, because believe me, love, I know that's what you should have…" he trailed off, biting his lip.
"But, Hermione," he continued, tightening his arms around her, "I know I won't be the guy that tells you you're beautiful, even though you are, or the guy that showers you with gifts, even though you deserve it, because I know that's not who you are. You want effort. You want stability. You want an equal. You want someone that will defend you when you need it, fight next to you when you need it, and put you in your place when you're being ridiculous," he smiled affectionately at her, "so, please, give me a chance to be that for you. Let me take care of you. Let me be with you." He pleaded with her.
Hermione was breathless, hearing him tell her exactly what she had always wanted in a man, in a partner. Her heart was pounding, and she could barely breath. Closing her eyes, she tried to imagine what a relationship with him would be like. In her mind's eye, she saw long nights cuddling on the couch in front of the fire, walks by the lake while having intellectual debates, acceptance, warmth, and support.
She saw home.
So, without giving herself time to overthink, she answered him with a smile.
"Okay."
A/N: Though it may be slowly going, I do have the entire rest of this story planned out, so it will be finished. Please review, and also, PLEASE give me some suggestions for stories to write.
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My Savior