To Suffer a Veela

A person could assume that being Harry Potter’s best friend had prepared Hermione to expect the unexpected. After all, the many adventures she, Ron and Harry had been on were nothing if not unusual. She had thought that life after Voldemort and the eradication of pure blood supremacy laws would settle down and be normal. Well, as normal as it could be for anyone attending Hogwarts. As many times as she had been surprised and thrown into extreme circumstances throughout the years, Hermione had become adept at adjusting to unfamiliar situations. This was one situation however, that she could not and would not adjust to without thinking. She had never had her free will taken from her and she was going to do everything she could to get it back. All of that was not nearly as pressing as the matter of getting Cormac MacLaggen away from her post haste.

While striding towards the library this morning she had noticed an extreme change in the way that she viewed her surroundings. Almost every male student from third year up that she passed had a distinct unpleasant odor about them. They all watched her, either blatantly staring or from the corner of their eye. She supposed it was because she was still somewhat a celebrity due to the war, but why did each of them smell like they’d stepped in dog poo? The only boy who didn’t smell off was Cassius Whitmore. He also sent curious looks her way, but she couldn’t smell anything coming from him other than an extremely strong cologne.

She had entered the library and gone immediately to the restricted section after bidding Madame Pince a hasty hello. She had been browsing titles about Veela when the most ghastly smell ever entered her nostrils and she was glad her stomach was empty because if it hadn’t been, she would have thrown up all over the shoes of her former date. Cormac’s unnaturally white teeth were bared in a self-assured, predatory grin.

“I’ve been looking all over for you, Hermione,” he said, emphasizing her first name. “You weren’t at the feast last night.”

“Cormac,” she said as she forced the nausea down. “I didn’t realize you were there. Is there anything I can help you with?” She moved backwards to get away from the horrid smell, but he apparently thought they were playing cat and mouse because he moved closer. When had all the males of Hogwarts become this smelly and why was Cormac reminding her of a sewage treatment plant? He used to smell particularly nice to her and he was obsessive about being clean.

“Actually, it’s what I can do for you. I understand that you’re head girl and with that position comes a lot of responsibility and a lot of stress. I’d be willing to give you a little release if you’d do something for me.” The lummox was backing her into a corner, except she wasn’t the least bit afraid or intimidated by him. He was a blowhard who would be easily dealt with, she just didn’t want to have to resort to any kind of rudeness unless it was absolutely necessary.

“I can’t accept any kind of bribe and you know that. Besides, you’re already a prefect and you have impeccable grades. There’s not really anything that I can give you that you don’t already have. Please back up, you’re making me uncomfortable.”

Instead of doing as she asked, the quidditch player trapped her against the wall with one arm on either side of her waist. When he leaned forwards and brushed his chest against her own, she felt like she had a fever which did nothing to curb her nausea. “I don’t want homework answers, darling,” he simpered, “I could give you the kind of release that a man gives a woman. The only thing you have to do is accept my offer of courtship and wear my ring. It really is a win-win situation for you. Not only would you get a sexually experienced fiancé, but you’d also be moved up in wizarding society by being seen on my arm.”

Even if she hadn’t been sick at his smell and his closeness, she would have wanted to throw up at the arrogant bastard’s words. “Cormac, your offer is not only unneeded, it is unwelcome. I’m in a relationship. Now please, back up.”

“No you aren’t. Parvati already told me that you and Ron broke up over the summer. Maybe I hurt your pride with the way I worded that, but it’s true. You and I are a perfect match and we could achieve great things socially. If you’re nervous because you’re a virgin, don’t worry, I’ll be very gentle with you.” He said the last part in her ear in what she supposed was meant to be a breathy whisper, but it felt like sandpaper being drug across her face.

“I assure you, I’m not lying and even if I were single, I wouldn’t go out with you again, much less agree to be your fiancé. I am not interested in you as a romantic partner in the least, I’m sorry.” She was getting very agitated now, but what scared her the most was that instead of becoming affronted at her frankness, Cormac was leaning farther in and moving his pelvis closer to hers. She suddenly noticed his left hand sliding his wand out from his sleeve and she was reminded of Slughorn’s Christmas party when she had tried to pull away from his kisses and he had trapped her to him with his vice-like arms. The difference between Cormac and Draco was that Cormac was turned on by her fear where as Draco was put off and annoyed by it. She suddenly wished that Draco were there. Just as she was about to feel the sickening boy’s teeth close on her ear lobe, he was wrenched away and the level of nausea she felt was replaced by cool, tangible relief.

“What the – “ Cormac’s outburst was silenced by a strong, powerful fist connecting with his jaw. Hermione opened her eyes and expecting to see Draco, instead saw something only slightly resembled him. It had his blonde hair and was roughly his height, but she was absolutely certain that Draco did not have wings. The being in front of her had a twisted, demonic face, glowing red eyes and clawed hands that had just thrashed across its opponents chest, making Sectumsempra look like child’s play.

Cormac groaned in pain and backed away as he fired a Crucio at the creature standing between him and Hermione. The curse hit and what Hermione thought was Draco howled in pain. When he did, her heart broke and she felt unbridled, righteous anger at Cormac for harming her mate. Realizing that this was her mate and that he was about to kill the boy in front of them, Hermione grabbed his shoulder as he lifted Cormac from the ground by his throat and pummeled his face into hamburger meat. She didn’t want death on his hands because of her.

At feeling her imploring hands on him, Draco growled at her and she was suddenly whisked behind him and held captive by his wings. Wriggling so that she could reach him, she tried to placate him.

“Draco, please stop. You don’t have to kill him. You got here in time, nothing happened. He isn’t worth an investigation. Please, please, stop,” she begged.

Draco dropped the unconscious perpetrator to the floor and turned on her. His wings slowly disappeared and his face was no longer demonic and inhuman looking, but his fangs and claws were still present and his eyes were still glowing. He advanced on her and she instinctively backed up. His chest was heaving as he put his hands on either side of her face, his claws digging holes into the stone wall behind them. Not knowing what else to do, she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him.

As she did, she heard the chunks of mortar fall around her as his claws retracted. His lips were soft but demanding and she felt tension uncoil in her as she allowed his tongue into her mouth. The nausea she had been feeling slipped away completely and she sighed in relief and pushed her own tongue into his mouth and explored for herself. Draco growled and pushed himself towards her more forcefully and as he did, her tongue slipped and sliced open over one of his fangs.

When she gave a small yelp of pain, he pulled back and apologetically rubbed his lips over hers. Even though the nausea and feverish feeling had left and she didn’t feel out of her head in submissive lust, Hermione couldn’t explain the frantic need to know that he was okay. While he ran his lips over her face and neck and his hands over her body and under her clothes, she stroked his hair, eyebrows, neck and shoulders as she felt around to see if he’d been injured. He winced as she rubbed her hands over his pectoral muscles and the area from his neck to his shoulders. She knew from experience that even a light Crucio caused horrible muscle pain; she pulled out her wand and whispered a pain reliever charm that Molly Weasley had taught her.

“Thank you for coming after me,” she whispered. “I couldn’t reach my wand and if you hadn’t come…well, I’m just really glad you got here.” She leaned her forehead against his and thought that they had reached some sort of understanding. His behavior just now had been more reverent and she didn’t know why, but she felt her own attachment to him growing. She knew that part of what he said was true, that fate had apparently decided that they belonged together and while she still thought that there had to be a way out of it, she also thought that if they were to stay in this relationship, then she needed to know more about it and he needed to realize that she would not yield to him like some slave girl before a prince.

She was very wrong. In two blinks after her statement, he turned her around and pressed her against the wall, one of his thighs separating hers as his large hands gripped her elbows, pulling them back so that her head lay in the crook of his neck. Once again, she couldn’t move, but she mainly felt annoyed instead of afraid. He bent his head forward and rasped into her ear.

“Are you wearing knickers this morning, love?” he asked in a dangerously low voice. He was definitely not happy.

“Of course I am! I’m not one of your sluts that’s ready at a moments notice!” Hermione bucked against him and he maneuvered so that one of his arms held hers in place whilst the other snaked down her front and lifted her skirt up over her belly before dipping into her knickers and shoving two fingers into the folds that were warm, but not especially damp. He growled.

Hermione was about to tell him that he was no better than Cormac when she was hit with the overwhelming desire to lay on her back, open her legs in invitation and beg him to come inside. Damn those pheromones!

“That’s not fair,” she gasped, but her words only held a slight whinging tone instead of the venom she had felt moments ago.

“Put your arms straight out and place your palms flat on the wall,” he commanded. She did as she was told and arched her bum into his crotch, feeling the prominent erection and knowing what it meant. She turned her head to look at him through half-closed eyes. What had previously only held mild interest for the being behind her was now completely soaking and so she rubbed her thighs together to relieve the pressure, wishing it was him instead.

Without a word he jerked her hips backwards so that her backbone was now level with the ground. ”Spread your legs apart,” Draco said in a tight voice that told her that he himself was not unaffected. As soon as she did, he pulled his arm back and she heard the smack before she felt the pain on her right hip. She tried to close her legs because the sharp stab of pain had made the walls of her pussy clench in anticipation. “Keep them spread. You are not to move unless I tell you. I can’t give you the spanking you deserve because there’s no silencing charm around us anymore, and trust me, you deserve a very long, hard, loud punishment.”

His voice made her shiver and the pheromones coming out of him made her do exactly as he instructed. She would do anything for him as long as he delivered on the unspoken promise his words offered. He was standing back from her. She could feel his body heat, but it wasn’t enough. She needed his touch.

Without warning, he reached out and ripped the white satin underpants she wore into shreds. She gasped at the feeling of the cold air of the library coming into contact with her heated core. Inside, some tiny part of her told her to walk off with what remaining dignity she had and leave him for Madame Pince to find. The smell of old books and worn out oak tables was all around her. It had always been a comforting smell to her and she knew now that that was about to change.

Draco slid his hands over the smooth skin of her hips and she relaxed into his touch. Moving one gripping finger in front of the other, he walked his hand down her thigh before cupping her sex from behind, the heel of his hand on her opening and his two middle fingers rocking against her clit in a teasing massage. She moaned and lifted her hips in instinctive want. The slight touches eased the throbbing ache in her core, but it wasn’t enough. He pulled his hand back so that she could still feel his fingers, but the palm wasn’t touching her anymore and she whimpered and turned her head to look into his harsh gaze, her eyes pleading with him.

He unzipped his trousers and pulled out the fantastically large penis that he seemed to be so proud of. He gave it a few tugs and she watched, both longingly and afraid of the invasion it would give her body. Her veela took his large hand and turned her head so that she faced the wall. Her pussy clenched with want and still he did not touch her.

She thought she would go mad when swiftly he took her hips and slammed himself home. Her inner muscles were stretched to what felt like their limits and her womb felt like it was embracing him, lovingly. The pain of his sudden entry was forgotten by the relief she felt and the ecstasy of the feeling of being whole. He had one arm wrapped possessively about her waist and the other was laced through the fingers of her left hand, still touching the wall. His front was pressed to her back and she felt incredibly close to him, even if she was being unnaturally submissive.

“Let’s get one thing straight, Hermione,” he growled in her ear, giving one short but powerful thrust that made her quake. “The only slut I have is you, and you WILL be ready at a moment’s notice.”


A/N- There ya go, margaritama and lala!