Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

My Savior	By : ShelbieRae Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 9298 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own harry Potter, and I make no profit from this story.

Chapter List
- 7
- 8
- 9
A/N: Alright guys, I’m back, homework done and glass of wine in hand, ready to add to the story. Either way, now we are going to get into Draco’s reaction about how he behaved. How do you think he will respond?
Malfoys do not panic.
It is below them.
They were to always keep their cool, they would always remain regal, and they would always do anything they could to save face.
Draco was vaguely aware of these principles that had been pounded in his head since he was a young boy as he paced about the common room in a frenzy, trying to figure exactly what in Merlin’s name caused him to behave the way he did the night before.
The Veela in him had presented itself.
And it chose Granger.
“Bollocks,” he growled to himself. Of all the ridiculously ironic things that could have happened, Fate decided to pair him with someone he had been taught to hate and someone who probably hated him more than anyone else did.
However, once Draco made himself think about it, he had always admired her as a witch. She was powerful, no doubt about that, and her loyalty to herself and those she cared for rivaled no other that Draco had ever had the pleasure of knowing.
The revelations he was having that told him he did not actually despise Granger, coupled with the fact that he had already succeeded in finding his mate and it was only October, should have made him overjoyed.
So, why was there a pit forming in his stomach?
Maybe it was because he knew he only had nine months to convince her that he could be someone that could care for her. Maybe it was because he would be setting out into something new with someone that hated everything about him. Maybe it was because his Veela had chosen someone that very well could reject him and kill him.
He remembered clearly the look of terror on her face the night before when she thought he was going to hurt someone. The memory made a now familiar pain flash through him, that he now recognized as reactions to pain his mate could be experiencing, and he felt the need to rush to her side.
But then, just as vividly, he remembered the look of wonder she had when looking at the face of his Veela; he remembered the spark of emotion that seemed to appear fleetingly in her eye. Warmth spread through him at the thought of her approval, and a purring sound came from his throat.
His eyes snapped open.
What the hell was happening to him?
When did he turn into such a sap?
Draco forced himself to calm down. He needed a plan. He needed to figure out what he was going to do about this situation. The first step was that he needed to talk to Granger.
This was going to prove to be a great feat. Granger had not come out of her room, in fact Draco was entirely sure that she was not even here. He would not be shocked if she had gone straight to McGonagall to request different living arrangements. She was the brightest witch of the age. Surely, if she hadn’t already known what he was, she would have done the research and quickly found out.
There was no doubt in Draco’s mind that he would have to work hard to succeed when it came to this hellacious bookworm.
~
War heroes do not panic.
They are better than that.
Hermione was aware of this as she nursed her coffee in the Great Hall, suffering from lack of sleep the night before. Her mind was whirling around, trying to make sense of the information she had found.
Draco Malfoy was a Veela.
And it would seem that his Veela had chosen her to be his mate.
Another burst of panic lit up Hermione’s chest. She glanced across the Hall to see if Malfoy had shown up to breakfast. Anxiety ripped through her as her eyes met his briefly, and a grimace of pain crossed his face.
Shocked, Hermione tried to calm herself down. During the mate-seeking process, the Veela and the mate were both equally sensitive to one another’s emotions. It was not unheard of for Veela couples to eventually be able to read one another’s minds as well.
Deep down, Hermione knew a talk needed to be had. They were supposed to hate each other! There was no way that this was going to work. At that thought, Hermione remembered one of the very last things she had read before falling asleep at her study table: Veelas who did not complete the mating process within one year of their coming of age, they would die of rejection and heartbreak.
There was no other option.
This time, Hermione could not contain the terror and panic that surged through her. She could NOT mate with her mortal enemy for life! Despair shot through her at the thought of the life she wanted her for herself, a life she had fought so hard for, a life that would now come at the expense of someone else’s life.
Hermione peeked back at the Slytherin table and found Malfoy staring at her.
That did it.
Hermione scrambled to grab her bag and rushed from the table. She walked as fast as she could towards the door, hoping to make it there before anyone noticed her absence.
She was rounding the corner when she heard, no felt, Malfoy following her. She tried to speed up, so that she could pretend she was not feeling the dull ache to be near him.
“Hermione!” he shouted after her, “We need to talk.”
Hermione’s eyes widened. He called her by her first name, and he sounded desperate to talk to her. His increased desperation was no doubt a result of the Veela in him completing the first part of the mating ritual the night before: the claiming. When he had verbally claimed her, he had begun the process of the mating.
Remembering the details of her research at this moment just served to make Hermione panic more. She quickened her pace, and ran smack into another hard chest. Peeking up, she desperately hoped it would not be the person who had almost attacked her last night.
Thankfully, it was Neville she ran into.
“Are you okay, `Mione?” a startled Neville questioned. He put a hand on her arm, and a growl ripped through the air behind them.
Neville’s attention was drawn to the hallway behind them. His gaze darkened as it fell on a heavy-breathing Malfoy who looked murderous.
“Can we help you with something, Malfoy?” Neville questioned, his voice dripping with acid.
Malfoy’s gaze shifted from a protective Neville to Hermione, who was avoiding his gaze and refused to turn around. A few beats passed, and finally Malfoy decided to answer.
“No, I just needed to talk to Hermione about a Potions assignment,” he grit out between his teeth.
Neville’s gaze shifted between the two before he answered, “Well, I don’t suppose it can wait until class starts in 20 minutes?”
Malfoy had to bite his tongue and clench his fists to keep from engaging the poor wizard. It was not Neville’s fault, he didn’t realize that he was potentially stepping between a Veela and his mate, which was known to make Veela’s quite violent. Draco realized that he needed to leave the situation before someone got hurt.
“Of course,” he forced out with a sour-grapes smile, “I’ll see you in a bit, Hermione.”
With that, Draco used every bit of strength he had left to make himself leave. It went against everything he knew to be right, but he managed to turn around and walk away.
Once he was out of sight, a grateful Hermione turned to a confused Neville with a smile on her face.
“Are you sure you’re okay?”, Neville asked cautiously, “Why is he bothering you?”
Hermione bit her lip and idly wondered if she should tell Neville the truth, or if she should just keep the information to herself. Although it was Malfoy, it was not her business to spread. Hermione knew she hated it when people spread her personal information and violated her privacy.
Hermione decided that no one else needed to know anything about Draco’s predicament. It was something that she still was working through herself, and she didn’t need anyone hovering around her as though she had been deemed incapable of taking care of herself.
“It’s just Malfoy being Malfoy, Neville,” Hermione answered tiredly, “Let’s just get to potions, yeah?”
Neville looked slightly skeptical, but finally agreed and followed Hermione.
Around the corner, Draco was leaning against the wall, trying to regulate his breathing. That bumbling fool had touched his mate. He had touched what was his. Draco was still seeing red, both because of Longbottom touching her, and because of the entire situation. He had had to force himself to walk away so he wouldn’t hurt Longbottom, because he knew that that would significantly lower the chances of Hermione, at the very least, hearing him out.
He had to admit, he was extremely grateful to Hermione for not telling anyone about his predicament. It was very Gryffindor of her, he thought with a sneer, but it was a sweet gesture nonetheless.
Draco was beginning to panic again. How was he ever going to get her to talk to him? What if she freaked out? Of course she was going to freak out, what was he thinking? There was no way she was going to hear him out. He spent the better half of his life wanting her kind dead, for absolutely no reason other than the fact that his deranged father beat him for thinking any different. Now he knew that he didn’t think her inferior, nor did he ever, but did she?
If she didn’t, it would be the death of him.
~
Hermione had had a long day. She could barely focus on anything without thinking about the situation Fate had decided to place her in. She hadn’t raised her hand once in her classes, causing much concern amongst her teachers, Ginny had to break her out of her stupor more than once during supper, and she had even left her bookbag in the Great Hall the first time she left.
She walked towards the portrait hole to her common room and inwardly groaned when she walked inside. Draco was up waiting for her, no doubt in hopes he could confront her about what had happened the night before. He was pacing back and forth, looking extremely anxious. If Hermione weren’t so terrified about the information she had found, she would almost say he looked cute in his disheveled state. As it was, she wanted to do nothing more than take a hot bath and go to bed, so she could avoid the chaos her life had become because of a certain blond Slytherin.
When he finally noticed her, Draco stopped dead in his tracks and turned his body towards her. Hermione felt an instant calming sensation upon seeing him, which, ironically, made her anxiety increase tenfold. She knew from her reading that her body was responding to her Veela mate, and that she felt safe because she was near him.
“Hermione, can we talk?” he questioned anxiously. Upon further inspection, Hermione noted that he looked like he was a wreck. There were large circles under his eyes, and his hair was sticking up haphazardly, no doubt from him running his hands through it repeatedly.
“I’m not really in the mood, Malfoy,” she answered tiredly, “can it wait?”
Draco bristled. She was acting like this was no big deal. He was trying to be nice and cooperative, and she was not even trying.
“Granger, this is really important, and I really think we need to discuss it,” he said through clenched teeth.
The lack of sleep and stress, coupled with his insistence and her panic, caused Hermione to finally snap.
“I don’t care, Malfoy. If you want to pester someone, why don’t you go find another Mudblood to degrade.” Hermione growled.
She knew that it wasn’t fair. She knew that it was possible he didn’t feel that way anymore, but she couldn’t stop herself. The information she had found scared her and she was lashing out.
Draco stopped dead in his tracks and stared at her, eyes blazing. Hermione backed up, her back hitting the common room door.
Draco stalked towards her, and slammed his hands on either side of her head, effectively trapping her. His face was a mere few inches from hers; Hermione’s breath became ragged as she fought with herself. The Veela mate inside her was happy that he was near, and wanted to purr with content.
‘What?’ Hermione thought to herself, ‘Purring?’ she shrieked internally.
She pressed herself as close to the door as she possibly could. She could not trust her body near him.
He stared at her intensely for several moments before he spoke, “Don’t EVER call yourself that disgusting slur again,” he growled in a dangerously low voice.
Hermione finally found her own voice, and that voice was furious that Draco Malfoy thought he had ANY right to tell her what to do.
“How can I refrain from calling myself that when you’ve spent years reminding that I’m no better than the dirt under your perfectly polished shoes?” she spit back at him. It felt good. She felt as though she had a huge weight lifted from her shoulders. This was their dynamic; they were settling back into familiar roles, instead of this complex and strange whirlwind of emotions they had been experiencing.
At least, that’s what Hermione thought they were doing.
That was, until Draco Malfoy let a feral growl escape him, and planted his lips firmly on hers.
Hermione froze, trying to process what was happening. His warm lips were moving against hers softly, yet passionately, exploring her.
It was how Hermione had always wanted to be kissed.
And she was not stopping him.
In fact, Hermione Granger found herself kissing him back. Her hands wound themselves through his hair and tugged at the soft strands. Draco moaned into her mouth and hooked his hands under her thighs. He lifted her up and pushed her against the door, while Hermione wrapped her thighs around his waist.
Draco deepened the kiss, then started trailing his lips down Hermione’s neck, nipping and sucking lightly. Hermione threw her head back and moaned loudly. In response to his ministrations, she rocked her hips against his, feeling his hard erection press against her center.
Hermione’s eyes snapped open.
What was she doing?
She began struggling against him, and it took Draco a few moments to realize that she was trying to escape his grip.
“What’s wrong?” Draco asked quietly.
Hermione didn’t know what to say. She didn’t know what to think. She had just had the most passionate, the most sexy snog of her life.
And it had been with her mortal enemy.
It happened before she knew what she was doing.
Hermione’s hand reared back, seemingly of its own accord, and slapped Draco across the face.
Draco stared at her in shock, and she stared back defiantly, before letting a sob escape her throat and running up to her room.
A/N: I know, another cliff hanger. And she hit him again! She really does have a temper. We are finally getting to some good Veela action so bear with me! Also, I am very sorry, again, for how long it took me to update, I just want this to be perfect for everyone! The more you review, the more likely I am to kick my ass into gear to write my next chapter.
- 7
- 8
- 9
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

My Savior