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Lupine Dreams	By : Wolfling1972 Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 11118 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter universe, that belongs solely to JK Rowling, neither am I making money from this story. I just enjoy playing in her world

Chapter List
- 7
- 8
- 9
(AN1: Just let me point out that I love Snape. That is all. Also, there is no known potion to help deal with the after-effects of the Cruciatus curse but Snape is THE god of Potions. I thought it made sense for him to have invented something better than the usual healing potions. We are about halfway through most of my pre-written stuff.)
He woke up to the taste of bile and the feeling that, though he had been healed, his body STILL wasn't able to properly function. His eyes opened to the cool semi-gray of his room and the teary gaze of his mother, the stark profile of his professor, the silence of words left unsaid. It was Snape who broke the stillness.
"I am sorry. Had I known that your control of your responses to the Cruciatus would have caused the others to take over your punishment, I would have told you to give in." He spoke with solemnity, his hooded gaze barely touching on the young man who lay before him. "You have been healed but there are after effects from the curse so I need you to drink this as it will help."
He held out a large vial until Draco reached for it and promptly swallowed the thick, glittering substance.
"Ew. What in the hell, Sev?" The complaint was given with a grimace. "It's disgusting."
The dark-haired male returned the expression with a sneer but his deep baritone held no inflection.
"Something I invented to help with the effects." He then pulled his wand from his sleeve and swished it. Bright blue lights appeared over Draco's groin and his knee. "Your most severe injuries have been treated so now you just need to rest." He paused for a moment before continuing. "Have you taken your dose of wolfsbane?"
The blond male nodded. "This morning. I take one the morning of, as well. Tomorrow."
His mother spoke for the first time, her voice soothing. "Your safe space is ready, as always"
Severus stood up. "If you will excuse me, I must return to him. Narcissa do not keep Draco awake for too much longer."
The blonde woman nodded and then turned her attention to her son. "I wanted to talk to you about school and the female there. Obviously, you are aware she was watching out for you on my behalf?"
"Yes." Quiet. Succinct.
"I don't know why I asked her. It would have been easier to ask one of your friends but a mother's intuition, I suppose. Did I choose wrong? Have I made your task more difficult?"
"No." Again, one syllable.
"You do know that I believe that she is to be your mate, do you not? I thought it as soon as I received the first note as she noticed things another might not have. This is not to say that I have not had a hard time dealing with the implication. A Malfoy, a Black, has a hard time admitting that they are mistaken." She sighed. "However, things change." A pause. "Why were you punished?"
With halting words, Draco filled his mother in on the conversation, questions, and actual punishment. He could see the horror in her eyes but did not sugar coat anything as she deserved the unvarnished truth. When he finished, she released a long, shuddery breath and resumed her speech.
"You will leave in the morning on the 26th as I do not want you to be here any longer than that nor do I expect that you would like to leave your paramour, unprotected. I asked HIM if I could go to our cottage, you know the one in Braemar, until the holidays are over and have been given permission," she spat the last word. "To retreat until after the first of the year so that you do not have to worry on my account. I will be safe, my son."
It was his turn to release a shaky sigh. "Good. Do you think I might be able to visit you while you are there? I am sure the Headmaster would allow me to use the floo,"
She gave him a small smile. "Yes. Maybe, your friend would be amendable to a visit as well? After all, I do want you to spend some time with her if you can if she is still there."
He nodded. "She is. She stayed at the school for the holidays."
"Then I will write to the Headmaster and ask for you both to visit and have floo access on New Year's Eve. You could both stay overnight if she chooses to come along." She rose from her seat. "Now then, sleep. I will send Mipsy to check on you in a few hours, with food. I love you."
Within moments, he had done as she commanded, dead to the world and pain. Though these things were true, it was not as if he was lost. No, the damaged young man dreamt of Hermione, his mobile mouth creased into a small smile.
Running. Four paws hitting soft earth as furred form darts over broken trees and shattered limbs, no sound except for the rushing of cool air as it passes over sensitive ears. He is keeping track of the unknown others who run behind, a pack of shadowed forms, those who follow him without thought, without commands.
Alpha.
He is, was, will be. Timeless.
Then a scent, sweet so sweet. Not blood. No. This is every good thing, every RIGHT thing. Vanilla and jasmine, hints of musk and sandalwood, nameless longing. There is a direction. North and then East, a trail to be followed, a prize at the end. One by one, the others peel off until he is alone.
He will not remain that way.
In a clearing, she sits, small form encased, covered, head to toe by a warm red cloak, only loose curls framing wide eyes, golden skin, full bottom lip. She turns just as he enters and though she fears, she does not, can not move. Speechless, frozen. She is held at bay by his unblinking stare, by the stiff-legged gait which pulls him to her, as if he can not stop himself.
He does not want to so he does not.
The wolf stops before her, lupine eyes locked to her startled gaze but she does not step back and he thinks, he thinks, he thinks that she is beautiful. An oasis in a world filled with sound and heat and shadow. He can not speak, the muzzled form says no and no and no but he can look his fill and he does. He studies her with a cocked head and listening ear until she settles herself amongst the flowers.
He steps closer and circles her until she can rest her back against a strong side, surrounded by heat and fur in white and black and gray. A small hand reaches back to stroke his ruff, to pause at his crown, to find his muzzle. Soon she sleeps but he does not. He watches, protective.
She is meant to be his and he will not allow harm to come to pass.
He is Alpha and she will be his mate.
It has been willed.
He awoke in the morning with only a vague remembrance but it was more than enough.
That day was spent with various aches and pains, conversations with his mother, glares from Greyback when that degenerate finally realized that Draco had no need (or want) of him and genuine comfort taken in everyday routines. Of course, it wasn't just any other day; it was the day before Christmas, the day of the full moon. That meant that when oddities happened, like a conversation held between mother and son, he was just thankful they occurred while they were in her suite.
"Do you think your friend would find receiving a gift from me too off-putting," Narcissa pondered, her blue gaze trained upon the lean frame of her only child.
Draco shook his head. "No. She wears the necklace and the charms. She has, I think, ever since you sent the chain to her. However, she is stubborn and she dislikes being in anyone's debt. She probably sees the necklace as payment for services rendered or some such rot."
The elegant blonde laughed. "Well, the first time I sent her a gift, it was exactly that. The wolf's head was for you more than her." She paused. "I knew you'd see it and wonder why."
"Sneaky mother, very sneaky."
She gave him a cool smile, her sapphire gaze twinkling delightedly, even as she allowed herself to say, "I am no less Slytherin than you, my son."
Just then, a large barn owl tapped at her sitting-room window, two small packages gripped in his talons. The young man sauntered toward the window and noted, with something like shock, that it was the same owl who had delivered Hermione's last message from his mother. "This is..."
Narcissa nodded. "I know. Well, let him in."
The large bird flew in and dropped the two presents, one in Draco's hand and the other beside Narcissa, before giving a low hoot. Soon he retreated, his large wings beating slightly against the cool evening air. Then he was gone.
Draco immediately shut the window and turned to his mother. "Do you think these are from her?"
Narcissa nodded and picked up her small gift, wrapped in green paper and decorated with a small silver bow. "I think I will open it now." With that, she set action to the words and tore the delicate paper off. The small box gave the impression of jewelry and so with a touch of hesitation, she opened it, only to be greeted first with a small origami swan which opened on its own and bore the writing of one Miss Granger.
"A note..."
Draco grinned. "What's it say? What did you get?"
"Hm." She read it quickly and smiled. "Listen." With a delicate clearing of her throat, she read it out loud.
"Mrs. Malfoy,
I went to Muggle London and saw this.
I thought it stunning.
I hope you find it as fitting as I do.
Merry Christmas,
HG"
She then turned her gaze to what was inside the box and Draco was shocked to see a shimmer of tears in her blue eyes as she pulled out a small broach made out of silver and sheened with abalone. The usually expressionless woman sniffed quietly and then handed it to her son. He held the delicate piece in his hand, his own heart fluttering. It was the silhouette of a woman and wolf in full howl and beautiful in its simplicity.
"Wow. Do you like it? I mean it is not your usual thing," he wondered.
Narcissa gave him a small smile. "Not my usual sort of thing but fitting. I do like it, very much. And I can layer my own spells on it since both elements will hold a woman's mysteries, even with it being a Muggle piece." She paused. "So what did you get?"
Draco swallowed nervously and then turned his attention to his own small box. His gift was wrapped in silver paper and adorned with an emerald green bow, the exact opposite of his mother's gift. Without giving himself time to think, he ripped the paper and opened the small black velvet box. Again, there was a note. Without being asked, he held it aloft and read it, out loud.
"Draco,
Obviously, we never discussed gifts.
When would we have had the time?
But when I found the thing I wanted for your mother,
I also found these.
I hope you like them.
HG"
It was only then that he saw what was inside the small box, a set of cufflinks in silver with two minuscule emeralds on each one. They were small and circular with an embossed wolf's head apiece, each emerald representative of an eye. "Mum, look."
His mother took the proffered gift and glanced inside, her own smile slightly wider. "Oh my, these are lovely. I can't believe that Muggles crafted such delicate things. Obviously, she would not mind the small token I found for her, then."
Draco quirked an eyebrow. "What did you find?"
"A book, a journal actually, written by a wolf's mate. It's only the first year of the bond so I assume that the woman in question never published another, nor did her family. It was going to be a rather large hint." Narcissa smirked. "Perhaps the young woman in question does not need one?"
"Maybe not, mother, but she would still love it nonetheless. Knowledge is what she lives for."
Laughter then before the pair stashed their gifts~ Narcissa's in her jewelry box and Draco in his luggage for safekeeping. Once that was finished, the pair met at the top of the grand staircase and prepared to head to the dungeons and Draco's cell within it. Full dark was coming soon and with it, moonrise.
As soon as Draco was safely locked away, Narcissa retreated to her rooms and called for Mipsy in order to procure tea and scones. It would be a long night but she could spend a few moments responding to the young woman who seemed to understand exactly what was needed during such a difficult time.
As for the young woman in question?
She had spent the day in Muggle London, not returning to school until well after lunch. Of course, she had needed to use the Headmaster's floo in order to reach the Leaky Cauldron but from there the journey had been easy enough. Once she'd bought those two gifts (the presents for her parents and friends had already been purchased long before), she had retraced her steps and spent time enchanting notes and wrapping her two purchases before making her way to the owlery and her favorite bird.
Then she spent quality time, until dinner, in the library.
She had just settled down to a small repast in the Gryffindor common room when she heard a tap on the large window. She hurried over and opened it up, her eyes trained on the stately, tawny-colored Great Horned Owl who flapped inside, a book-shaped package gripped in one taloned foot. He settled himself on her shoulder and dropped the package into her lap before he began to preen his feathers.
Setting the gift aside, the young woman rose and headed for the corner that contained some loose owl treats and once he'd eaten a few, the owl launched himself from her shoulder and out the window. With that, she closed it tight and resumed her seat, a small smile on her face which soon morphed into a slight frown. After all, she hadn't expected anything in return.
One all-over body shake later, Hermione picked up the slim, flat package wrapped in blue and white, cast a spell to check for bad magic and soon had it open. A leather-bound book greeted her eyes, entitled "Year: 1911", and placed between the cover and the pages was an envelope. Gingerly, she removed the creamy paper, her eyes falling easily to the flowing script of Narcissa Malfoy.
First of all, thank you for the very appropriate gift. It was one of those things that I never knew I wanted until I had it. Odd how that happens, is it not? I am sure that Draco will be sending his own thanks but this isn't about him, not really. Instead, please allow me to tell you a little about the book that I sent to you.
It is a journal that I found in a small shop in Diagon Alley, back at the beginning of the month. My intention had been to send it with my last missive but I decided to wait until I spoke to my son, to see if he felt it would go amiss. He assured me that it would not. Of course, once I received your beautiful gift, I felt it only fair to return the favor.
You hold it in your hands.
This journal was written by a young English witch, Ellen Maura Bastin by name, in the very early 20th century as noted by the "title". Why did I feel you needed a such a thing? Well, she became a wolf's fated mate and this particular journal discusses how it felt to her, the attraction, the problems. This should tell you what I believe when it comes to you and my son but only you will know if it's true after you've read the words penned by her.
Maybe once you've done so, you can let me know if I've been led astray? I would also like to issue you an invitation. My son will explain it once he returns to Hogwarts but I want YOU to know that it was I who put the idea in his head. It's a mother's prerogative to hound their child into things.
I hope that you enjoy the rest of your holiday.
N. Malfoy
The young woman read the letter, twice and then turned her attention to her dinner. After all, she knew herself and if she did not eat now, she would lose herself in the words of her gift and forget until it was much too late to remedy the situation. With that thought uppermost, she ate quickly and once her dishes were removed, she picked up the book, curled into the corner of the couch and began to read.
Two hours later, Hermione paused and stood up, her mind awhirl with possibilities. The woman had gone through the same sort of drawing: the inability to stay away, an unaccustomed ease with physical connection, the urge to protect, all of it. However, the man (the wolf) that had been drawn to her had been fairly unknown to both her family and friends. In fact, the young woman had only met him a few times prior to the marking, the mating. In her own words, the young witch had felt as if "fate has played a cruel trick upon me to make such a thing possible." That was something Hermione could understand, very well.
But was it true?
There had always been something and it was proven by the arguments and glares, the snide looks and cutting remarks. She also remembered what Draco had admitted to; that she was the only muggle-born he had tormented. This meant that the drawn together feeling was active before he was changed as she had never bitten her tongue against her own rude comments and snarky tone. In fact, she sometimes enjoyed getting to him, forcing him to back down, to go away until their next confrontation. It was odd, hopelessly odd, to admit it now. There had been a need for connection and if hatred was all that was allowed, then it would have been good enough.
For both of them.
'What to do, what to do?'
She had no answers but it did not matter, not yet. It wasn't as if he was here to talk it over with, at least not now, and though she wanted to write his mother back right away, it was late enough that the idea seemed quite rude. No. She would read it again and think about all of it until she had a better idea of what she should do.
'Harry? Ron? I can't even tell them. Wizard's vow and if they find out, it would be disastrous .' She paced, one hand twined through her loose, frizzy mass of hair. 'I don't want to hide our connection though so maybe he and I can use it to our advantage? Get people used to seeing us speak?' She shook her head and continued her pacing.
This entire thing would be too difficult for words.
(AN 2: Hermione tends to think...quite a bit. Since this is new to her, makes sense right? I also believe that she would hate to NOT tell Harry about this MESS and that the Wizard's vow is the only reason she hasn't told him everything. Ron, of course, is far too temperamental for her to want to tell him. Obviously, I feel like HG and DM pecked at one another entirely too much in the books. Unresolved Sexual Tension for the win!)
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Lupine Dreams