Everything But Mine

Merry Christmas, everyone! The veela which had left me is back and demands I write this story again! There’ll be a lot of emotion…


Hermione stepped quietly in the shower room; she wasn’t sure what the reason for Draco’s sudden distress was. He was fine during the walk to the bathrooms, just as he was adequate during their conversations. If the desperate sobs were any indication, something terrible had happened.

The sight which greeted her when she entered the bathroom broke her heart. Draco was huddled on the floor, a sobbing heap of pale skin and messy hair. He seemed so frail and helpless, just like a child in need for some love.

Making sure not to scare him away, she kneeled down next to him and wrapped her arms around him, ignoring the fact that his skin was still covered in small water droplets. His arms shakily reached for her, and she leaned forward to allow him to embrace her. His sobs quieted, but his heart was still racing. She could feel his every heartbeat, every weak sob which raced trough his body. Yes, normally she wouldn’t allow a patient of her to get so familiar with her, but Draco was a very special case, as Minerva had recommended her to try and rehabilitate him.

Hermione gently caressed his back, feeling that his tender skin had roughened a little that he was so thin that she could feel his ribs and some little bumps on his shoulder blades. Somehow, the more she touched him, the more compelled she felt to do so again. There was a strangely comfortable warmth engulfing her when she was embracing him. it felt so pure and desperate at the same time.

‘Why am I now like this, Angel? No one will love me as I look like a monster.’ He sobbed, his face still nuzzling her neck.

‘You don’t look like a monster, Draco, really. You will see that in no time you will look truly amazing again.’ She now let her fingers glide trough the not tangled part of his hair, surprised how silky the fine blonde hair felt.

She realised that now he was completely leaning in on her, she could feel his raging heartbeat and his heaving breaths. Normally she was extremely cautious of being too close to a man, as she often felt very uncomfortable. Maybe it was because of Ron’s fumbling and grabbing in the past, or maybe because she was scared of what such contact could bring.

Draco’s closeness felt rather good to her. She felt safe and knew he would do no harm to her. She didn’t even worry about the fact that he was almost nude, as the towel which was loosely bound around his hips couldn’t be considered really clothing.

‘Now, don’t cry. Everything will be alright. I promise to try to make you happier, ok?’ she said in a soothing tone, feeling him relax against her.

‘You promise, Angel?’ he asked, his voice still shaky, but the warmth which encased him from the nearness of his mate made him feel so much better.

‘I do…and you can call me Hermione, if you want to…’

‘Hermione, my angle…I’m so happy that you came. You know, no one likes me here…’ his voice trailed of, his head now rested on her shoulder.

‘Well, I quite like you, you know, I believe that you can be a wonderful person if given a chance.’

‘I’ll do anything you ask, really.’ He truly meant it. His mate meant the world to him.

‘Why don’t we stand up from the floor first? There’s a clean uniform in the box, too.’ She said, slowly disentangling herself from him.

Hesitantly, he stood up, still sad about the loss of her touch. He went to the box, finding a folded clean uniform in it.

She watched him stand up and take the garments, then step away from her, his back facing her. She was fascinated with the way he moved. Sure, he was a little weak and therefore moved slower, but still there was an air of gracefulness. If he’d get a bit of sun and better nutrition he’d be just plain out gorgeous.

She had never before been awed by a male form. Artworks are a completely different thing. He was so fragile, so raw…but still it felt like he was touching the very core of her soul. And he did have a nice arse, she noted, and felt herself get flustered.

She was so lost in watching and secretly admiring him that she hadn’t noticed that he had gotten dressed already.

He was standing a few steps away from her, a smile gracing his lips. She thought that he really looked so much different from the nasty boy she had known in school. This boy, no, man, was absolutely different.

‘So, let’s go and make you look like you again!’ she said, far too cheerfully, but she needed to compose herself, as she actually felt like she had a glint of desire for the scruffy and heart-breaking looking Draco Malfoy.

They went back to the adjacent room, now it had a mirror, hairdressing accessories laid by the side of the mirror, a bit further was a small bowl and other little things littered on the long dressing table.

‘Sit down,’ she asked, walking over to the table and taking a brush.

‘I’m not an amazing hairdresser, but I think it’d be easier for you if I cut of the tangled mess. How long do you want to keep it? Like you had in school?’

‘No...Can you please keep it just a little over my shoulders? He asked, trying to not moan as he felt her gently brush his still wet hair.

She took the scissors and cut the hair carefully, making sure the line was kind of straight. Soon the tangled mass fell to the floor, leaving Draco with gorgeous, manageable strands, that was at least what she thought about his hair. She wished her hair would be so silky and controllable. But she had to quit thinking of him that way. She could not find fancy in an inmate who was under her care.

She looked again at his smooth, pale cheek. At first she had wondered why he hadn’t grown a beard, but then she remembered how many years ago she had overheard the Slytherin girls chatter about how Malfoy had attended the most expensive Parisian barber and had a permanent ‘clean shaven’ charm applied. Back then she had thought that it was just another piece of his vanity.

He had been such an annoying brat. At first she had been immensely hurt by his angrily spat insults, but once she had realised that he was rather forced to do it as he was chained to the identity and expectations of his tyrant father, she had slightly pitied him.

She didn’t know for how long she had been lost in her thoughts, but she realised that she was losing herself in this strangely comforting feeling, coming from an unknown source. She had felt so tired when she had come to the prison, she had spent almost all of last night going through Malfoy’s files, thinking of the best way to approach him, and after all she had promised Minerva that she’d do her best.

Hermione looked at their reflections in the mirror, she felt compelled to look into his beautiful molten silver eyes. Suddenly, a strong surge of magic seared through her, her world fading to black in a fraction of a second.

Draco’s veela reflexes sprung into action the very moment he saw his mate faint. He too had felt the magical surge; he knew that his thoughts might’ve caused it. But now was not the time for him to ponder over what pieces of information he remembered, all that mattered was the well-being of his mate.

She seemed so fragile, like a small china figurine. He huddled her closer to his chest, making sure he was holding her secure in his arms, looking around the small room he noted a padded wingback chair in a corner next to an almost wilted pot plant.

He couldn’t still believe how lucky this day had turned out for him. From the bleak darkness and wish to die he was pulled out of his misery by his wonderful mate. The veela in him was so happy, he felt his strength return with every touch of her wonderful hands. She had been so wonderful, just like he had dreamed in endless nights. Their reflection in the mirror was almost emulating his wish like the Mirror of Erised, just this image was real and not just a figment of his imagination.

Holding her close, he inspected every feature of her face, drinking in her special beauty. To him, she was the most beautiful creature in the whole universe. He traced her face with his fingertips, slowly feeling her soft silky skin. Some part of him felt like he had known her for most of his life, he just couldn’t really place it, as the veela was overbearing him with the demands to explore the mate and not think.

He loved his mate so much; he would do anything for his love and give her everything she ever desired. He had felt her tiredness, the strain in her posture even though she tried to stand tall and proud. She needed his support, he knew it, really. He had not sensed another man’s scent on her, which was good-for one, it meant he had no competition. Another good thing was that he hoped he had made her trust him a little. She didn’t seem repulsed by him, as she had attempted, quite successfully, to help him regain his looks. That made him love her even more if, possible. The way she had said that she liked him, that she would help him… it was something that touched his heart beyond his veela being. It made him feel like an appreciated person.

Her light breathing pattern and even heartbeat seemed like the most wonderful song in the world. He wished he could always hold her while sleeping, to make sure that she’s safe and relaxed.

And you want her, too, he heard a quiet voice whisper in his head.

To all the gods, he truly wanted her. He wished he could devour her and worship every inch of her beautiful body. Draco knew that his veela had enough of power to compel her to succumb to his desires, but he wanted her to want him naturally, not magically. Of course, the Law was on his side, as veela mating habits were under Magical Creature Regulations, which supported the procreation of the veela population would give her no choice as only to accept him.

He stared at her inviting, rosy lips, thinking how wonderful it would be to kiss her.
The veela in him wasn’t satisfied with these thoughts, so he felt the strong urge to do it. A kiss was not a real bonding, it was just an exploration, he reminded himself, letting his lips slowly descend to hers.

It felt like heaven to feel her lips, even if it was just a chaste little kiss. He desired to deepen it, but he kept himself from doing so, as it would mean he’d take advantage of her.

Sighing deeply, he released her lips from his. His eyes never left her lips, his mind conjuring how she would look like when she’d be properly ravished by him.

Her eyes fluttered open, she felt fresh and rested. There was a strange tingling feeling on her lips, but otherwise… otherwise she didn’t know why she felt this way.

‘What happened? Please tell me.’ She asked , staring into his eyes.

‘I…’ He didn’t know what to say. Could he really tell her what had happened?


Please review and leave your predictions/wishes as to what you’d like to happen next. Remember, every review makes the veela prettier! :D