To Suffer a Veela

Grumbling as he finished the knot in his house tie, Draco plotted on what he was going to do to his erstwhile mate as soon as he got a hold of her. The little chit had run out on him this morning, leaving him with a raging hard on that he had to cast disillusionment on the front of his trousers after he had finally been able to cage the insistent erection behind his zipper. It bobbed like a nifler as if that was what sought her out instead of his nose. When they got back tonight, he was going to bury it in her, hilt deep and stay that way until morning. He wished they weren’t at school, but that was the only way she would ever be happy with him and their life together; if she got to finish her education.

He wanted her to be happy. Mainly he wanted her to be happy to be with him. He knew that he hadn’t exactly paved a smooth road for himself with his treatment of her the past seven years, but that had been quite necessary. The Dark Lord had used Narcissa as a threat to bend Lucius to his will and Draco wanted none of that with his own mate. It had been pure torture to know that she was his and being unable to act on it. What was even worse was that while he was intoxicated by her scent and able to sense her emotions, she was completely unaware and unaffected by him. He found the situation to be horribly unfair.

The situation at hand was not what he had envisioned after the marking and mating was complete. He had thought that she would be reluctant to leave him even for mundane tasks like brushing her teeth and that she would be dazzled by their sexual compatibility to the point that she would deny him nothing. He wanted her with him, never leaving his side except to pee and he wanted her to like it. He was attractive, he had lots of money and he was on her level in intelligence. What’s not to like? Part of her screaming at him this morning had included ruining her dress from some place called Top Shop. That was definitely something he could fix. Maybe that’s what made her so mad. He’d owl his mother and have her contact this Madame Top and have more of those flimsy things she called a dress sent over.

After finishing dressing, he looked at himself in the mirror and made certain he was impeccable. His face was not the cool aloof mask it normally was, but that was because not only was he containing his own anger, but he could feel hers as well. And was she ever mad. He’d held her arms above her head this morning and given her quite a good seeing to, if he did say so himself. He’d made his little know-it-all come hard all over their bed and how did she thank him? By jumping up and putting a body bind curse on him that hadn’t worn off until an hour ago. Instead of running from him immediately, she had stomped off to the other bedroom (he refused to call it ‘hers’) and come back to fume at him as she wrestled her school uniform on and to tell him exactly what she thought of him and his treatment of her on the train.

Didn’t she understand how long he’d waited? Could she not figure out the amount of self-control it had taken for him not to murder Cormac MacLaggen? Their sixth year, when that oaf had taken her to Slughorn’s party, he had intended to lock himself in his room until the evening was over, but the amount of unease she had felt had forced his feet to run towards the walrus-like professor’s door and try to worm his way in. If he hadn’t been caught by Filch he would have murdered MacLaggen and dragged his Hermione to the dungeons and claimed her then. Getting caught by Filch and being reminded by Snape what was at stake to lose if he did act on his instincts had calmed him down enough to pretend to be upset at merely not receiving an invitation. He was glad that his girl was smart enough not to be won over by MacLaggen’s boastful charms and had managed to shake him off. If she had fallen for him, Draco himself would probably be dead from mourning.

She’d had no idea what fate had intended for them and he had no way of telling her, so she had formed an attachment to that wretched Weasley whelp. He had stalked them throughout the year so that they were never alone and taken every opportunity possible to bring up the twit’s faults in front of her. When Lavender Brown had propositioned him he had waded through his disgust and told her that Ron was interested in her. It was a total lie, but it put a stop to the burgeoning romance between his mate and the oaf. The only downside had been being woken up at night because she was heartbrokenly crying into her pillow and he could feel her distress. How could she cry over that pup when she was destined for him?

Confident that he looked good and confident that she would eventually succumb to him, Draco made his way towards the library. He could feel hunger as well as anger and that meant she hadn’t had breakfast yet. Honestly, if she thought that avoiding the Great Hall would mean she got to avoid him, she was in for a big surprise. It was really quite selfish of her to do this. If she missed breakfast, she would get faint and need the afternoon off. He had three years worth of lust to slake with her body, so he needed her to be ready. She should rushing to please him. He could make her with his pheromones and he absolutely loved doing that, he discovered. He’d been an only child and used to instant gratification, so being able to bend her to his will was quite pleasing for him. He could also call her if he didn’t feel like searching for her and she would run to his side. He wanted to show her that he was a competent man, however, and not some animal. He would find her on his own and he would make her bend to him before taking her to the Great Hall and informing the masses that she was his by making her eat with him at the Slytherin table.

His gruff mood was not improved when he felt first her annoyance, then confusion, followed by nausea and desperation. Realizing what that meant, Draco ran to the library and ignoring Madame Pince, threw open the doors and strode through the restricted section to see his mate cornered under the ‘Malignant Potions’ section by Cormac MacLaggen.

A/N- So, in response to the reviewers that say they don’t read veela fics because they rarely get finished, I say this: The gauntlet has been thrown and this fic now has my full attention. It will be finished! I also have the same issue with veela stories, but I now understand why. Once an author gets past the marking point, it is almost anti-climactic to finish the story because the main event has already taken place. This fic will focus on Hermione accepting the fact that she is a veela’s mate and not the wife of an ordinary human and Draco coming to terms with the fact that in order to have a healthy mate, he will need to grant Hermione some concessions. Once again, I thank you most sincerely for reading and if I could reach you I would bake you all manner of sweets for reviewing!
Cheers, G.C.