To Suffer a Veela

The walk back to their common room felt like trudging through the trenches of World War I; dark, treacherous and a person never knew when the next trip wire would get hit and set off an explosion. It was late and they had finally finished their rounds. Hermione had been paired with Matthew Butler of Ravenclaw at first and Draco’s reaction to even the thought of seeing her standing next to another male had been so severe and so instantaneous that she had immediately switched to Susannah, her head girl counterpart, in fear for poor Matthew’s life. Draco had then been paired with Matthew and even though the two sets had completely different parts of the castle to patrol, they crossed paths often and each time they did, Draco sent her another wave of pheromones that got harder and harder to resist. Susannah had asked if she was feeling okay and did they need to see the nurse. Hermione had made her excuses and when everyone met up at the end, she made her way back to their rooms alone. A very shaken looking Matthew Butler had told her that Draco had business to attend to and would meet her back in the common rooms. Hermione had wanted to hex the raised eyebrows off of every occupant in the room, including Ginny Weasley.

Since breakfast, Draco had not physically let her go at any point during the day. The professors, having been apprised of Draco’s needs by Professor McGonagall, turned a blind eye to the fact that the head boy was practically dry humping the head girl during lectures. How he had managed to take notes with his left hand while his right was under her skirt was mind boggling. Like at breakfast, he had straddled the bench in front of the student desk they sat at together with her tucked into his side, hips snuggled into the splay of his legs, shoulders resting against his chest and his lips always either at her temple or her ear. The fact that they sat in the back left corner of the room, combined with the billowy student wizarding robes they were required to wear made it very easy to conceal the hand that was constantly stroking her inner thigh or fondling the wispy curls that covered her pubic mound or possessively cupping her sex.

The teachers had been polite enough to ignore his actions, but the student body still stared at them as if they were a two circus clowns making love and using a rubber chicken as a sex toy on top of a trampoline. There was a mix of delighted horror as if no one knew whether to be disgusted or to laugh hysterically. Also, since acquiring her new senses, Hermione could also smell the stench of lust very strongly in the room. Draco had assured her that it was her own sex appeal that caused it, but she still did not believe him. It was rather difficult to tell since every time she tried to look at anyone else, her veela’s hand would snap up and gripping her chin, force her eyes back on him. He never put out the pheromones that made her a puddle of lusty goo unless he wanted her undivided attention, for which she was grateful. However, that meant that she had to suffer the discomfort of being petted in front of her peers without being so out of her head with lust that she didn’t care.

On the way into the meeting before rounds, Ginny had grabbed her hand and Draco had snatched her to his chest like a toddler clutching a teddy bear. “Don’t touch what isn’t yours, Weaslette!” he snarled.

“Mione doesn’t belong to anybody but if we’re going to go that direction, she’s more mine than she’ll ever be yours,” Ginny said in a deceptively calm voice. Draco’s eyes had begun to glow red when Ginny continued. “Hermione, I’ve spoken to Harry and I don’t understand what is happening, but I trust you. I also trust the fact that if you get into a situation you can’t handle, that Harry, Luna, Neville and seven other Weasleys can handle it for you.”

Ginny had squeezed her shoulder reassuringly before glaring at Draco once again before making her way to her next class. Draco had been livid. He held her to him so tightly that he practically lifted her off the floor as he stalked towards the Astronomy tower and their next lesson. “You are not to speak to her without my permission!” Draco snarled like a white tiger and placed her in an alcove corner as he paced in front of her. “How dare that little harpy think she has the right to touch you or that she deserves an answer from you? We don’t need her meddlesome nose attracting unwanted attention to us and that’s what she’s doing. She’s not your mother or sister. She is nobody to you. Who is SHE that she thinks she deserves to be in your life?”

“She’s my friend, Draco,” Hermione replied, lightly disgusted by his show of dominance and thoroughly embarrassed that she had been man-handled in public by this man and hadn’t been able to do anything in retaliation. “She’s worried about me because she cares for me. You have to admit that our behavior as of yesterday is in direct opposition of what anyone in this school expects of us. You not liking the situation doesn’t make it any less true. The fact that you won’t let anybody near me to talk or even to try to explain the situation so that we’d have a modicum of understanding from our peers just increases everyone’s curiosity. Your behavior is why everyone keeps staring at us, not Ginny’s.”

Draco stared at her and his heart broke at the self-loathing she felt because of him. She felt like she was going against her nature being submissive to him, but if she would just stop fighting the feelings, she would feel so much better. He was also horrifically jealous of the weaslette and scar head. They knew her in a way that he didn’t and he didn’t like their intimacy. Oh, there was nothing sexual between Hermione and Harry or Ginny or both, but she had been vulnerable with them. They knew her on a level that he did not. He didn’t want her to have friends. Friends meant that he had to share and he never had to do that before. He was supposed to be her confidante, her comfort, her entertainer and ally in addition to lover, protector and partner.

Another thing that tore at him was her disgust with him. What had he done? He’d refrained from killing Cormac MacLaggen this morning when his every veela instinct demanded that he remove the offending creature from the realm of the living and use his teeth as a novelty jewelry set. He hadn’t pulverized a single male for thinking those horrible things about his mate. If they hadn’t already been mated and had the thin but tangible emotional thread connecting them to each other, Draco knew that he would have plowed his way through the nasty little whelps that imagined his girl in positions and scenarios that only he himself would ever see.

Coming back to himself, he looked into her unyielding eyes. Gods, but she was beautiful. He’d known it for years, but just now it caught him off guard that even in a darkened corner of a drafty old castle, she looked more spell-binding than the paintings of Guinevere or the tapestries of Helen. Would this face launch a thousand ships? No. It would launch ten thousand. She was the greatest beauty he had ever seen and she belonged to him.

“We have an hour before class starts and they’re serving lunch in the Great Hall. Are you hungry?” Her delicate voice was even, but he could tell she wanted to lay into him.

“Oh, I’m very hungry, kitten.” He stopped pacing and advanced toward her. He should know her taste by now. He should be so familiar with her sweet core that he could tell how close she was to orgasm or if it was the right time of the moon cycle to put his child in her belly. Life wasn’t fair, however, so he was just now getting to learn her body. She instinctively backed up and found herself again on the receiving end of his pheromones with no place to run or hide.

“Draco, we can’t do this,” she hissed at him as he pushed her against the wall. “You can’t really be ready again, can you?”

“Yes, we can and I’m always ready. It’s your fault,” he said in a hard voice as he nuzzled behind her ear as he brought her arms above her head. He was breathing fast and hard. “I know you enjoy this; you even love it. Just stop fighting it.”

“I love it because you make me love it, Draco,” she said in a breathless, yet annoyed voice. “Can't we please go eat? I'm starving and I hate raised eyebrows. Avoiding the Great Hall is not going make people used to our pairing any quicker.” Hermione had more to say, but was cut off by the sensation of his hand absentmindedly stroking her folds as he fondled one breast in earnest and suckled the other.

Looking down at her recently opened blouse, she his manicured hands rub and stroke her skin as his tongue darted out curiously to lick at her nipples, the swell of her breasts and to nestle in the space between them. He stopped for a moment and instead of a smirk, lust or arrogance on his face, she saw wonder and delight. She blushed heavily because she was not used to anyone staring at her this long, much less her naked breast. When she squirmed lightly, he looked into her face.

“You can eat,” he said, snapping his fingers and making a table with two plates of cornish game hens, red potatoes and delicious looking asparagus come into view, “if you'll just touch me.”

Weighing her options, the curly haired witch decided to put her gall aside and attempted to pull her blouse back on. His arms kept hers down and thus fully exposed. Glaring at him, she yanked his shirt out of his trousers and ignored the slight hiss of pain as the material was dragged over his sensitive hard-on. Loosening his tie, she unbuttoned his shirt in a clinical way, as if she were undressing a child. She felt confusion and annoyance, but ignored these feelings and moved onward. She knew where the annoyance came from but she was too tired and irked herself to care where the confusion came from. What she wasn't prepared for was how she would feel when she saw his bare chest.
She had seen it plenty of times before, even felt it up against her own that morning, so why did she suddenly feel as though she were seeing Diagon Alley again for the first time? His skin was pale and the tiny nipples that adorned his pectoral muscles were a dark pink, darker than her own and standing at full attention. There was a large blue-green vein running over his sternum that on anybody else, she would have found disgusting. She reached out her hand and traced it; following it until it disappeared and her fingers were running over the ridges of his abdominal muscles. She had seen countless Gryffindor males without their shirts on and had felt Ron's own toned chest, but Draco's felt more solid and firm, whereas Ron's had been wiry and he had felt almost hollow. Draco's pectoral muscles were larger and more defined than Ron's as well. She felt him tense up and a slight growl rumbled from his chest whenever she thought about her ex-boyfriend. Looking up, she saw his eyes turning red and his features beginning to twist.
“I can't help my thoughts and I refuse to police them just because it makes you uncomfortable. You're no better than Voldemort if you think that you have the right to make think the way you do,” she said. She didn't know why, but after that outburt she was compelled to bite down on the side of his neck and sink her teeth in until she drew blood. She could feel his discomfort at saying the Dark Lord's name out loud, but she was very, very angry. When she felt his blood on her teeth, she let go and rubbed her bare chest up against his, making the emotions she felt like a radar turn into shock.

He tried to grab ahold of her, but she used what little wandless magic she had to keep him from touching her. It was just skin, but Hermione arched her back and gave in to the feelings want that seemed to increase the more she touched him and she knew it had nothing to do with pheromones. Draco whimpered as she rubbed her sensitive breasts over his chest and stood on her tip toes to let her soft stomach come into contact with his hard one. She had never felt this out of control of desire-filled in her life and she couldn't help herself when she brought her tongue out from behind her teeth and ran the broad, flat side over his collar bone and smiled when she felt him beginning to shake. His skin tasted salty, brackish and something else she couldn't name, but loved.

Removing her wand from the ground, she accioed a tiny drumstick from their lunch and after taking a bite herself, fed the rest to him. His eyes began to glow silver and and he reached for her again, but she stopped him. She fed both of them the rest of their lunch with one hand whilst the other had unfastened his trousers and was lightly massaging his shaft.

“Hermione,” he said in a hoarse voice,but she cast a silencio over him. For the first time since the train ride, she felt in control. He was beseeching her with his eyes, but she didn't know for what. When she had finished feeding them both, she allowed him to lick her fingers clean and she sucked the juices and seasoning off of his lips. His manhood was as hard as marble and they were both glowing. She felt a sense of pride at what she had accomplished, but also, there was a disturbing sense of ownership and wanting to be owned by him as well, that increased the more she touched him. It took every ounce of self-control to pull away from him and dress them both with a swish of her wand.

He stared at her in disbelief. “What-?” he said as if she'd just turned into a hippogriff. Her whole body wanted to cave into his and spread her legs to welcome the hard-on he still very obviously sporting.

“We're done, she said with more confidence than she felt. “We have to be in Arithmancy in fifteen minutes.”

Whatever spell of compliance he'd been under before was immediately broken and his face turned into the demonic looking mask it had been when he'd pummeled Cormac.

“We are NEVER done!” he bellowed. Ripping open her shirt and dropping his trousers so that they fell about his ankles, he snarled as he held her by her shoulders and bit into her neck on the mark he had created earlier. She had the largest orgasm she'd ever had in her life and after the past two days that was saying something. Pinning her with his chest, he grabbed her legs at the thighs and opened her so that his exorbitantly large erection could slam into her. She growled in frustration, but was soon coming again and she could hear the fluid from her opening dripping to the floor. He wasn't slamming into the way he had last night as he claimed her, but was moving his hips in a circular motion that drove her insane and kept him buried inside of her. It wasn't until her third orgasm that he began to react again.

Throwing his head back, he grunted, “Don't ever tell me that we're finished, witch! Especially since I've waited so long to even be able to touch you, you selfish woman! You have no idea what I've been through and what I could do to you if I wanted. You are MINE! Get used to it!” He looked as if he wanted to say more, but her vaginal muscles milking him for all he was worth finally made him lose control and Hermione actually felt herself propelled backward at the force of his release pumping into her.

When he finally finished, he slid to the floor, still buried within her and clinging to her tiny frame. He leaned back from the wall, holding her to him and rocking slightly, like a dazed child. Trying to shift so that she was more comfortable, Hermione was shocked to find herself pushed away from Draco as if he'd been burned. Staring at her with tear filled eyes that expressed more fury than she'd ever seen on him, she shrank back, as if expecting him to him to strike her. This made him scream and standing up, he pointed at her sex and the semen that had come out of her retracted into her body. Grabbing his wand, he gave it a determined swish and she felt a slight twinge in her body.

He was pushed to his limits? Well so was she. “What in Merlin's name do you think you're doing Draco Malfoy? I'm trying to be understanding, but you are treating me like a fucking slave or some kind of toy!” If I'm hungry, I should get to eat and not have to be whore myself out to you first!”

“You aren't whoring yourself out, we're in love! This is how people in love are supposed to act!”

“Love? LOVE?!” she screeched. “We are no where near in love! I don't love you and you certainly don't love me!' As her statement fell from her lips, she almost vomited from the pain she felt and the tears that stung her eyes were not her own.

“Yes we are,” he said, dangerously low, “You're my mate and mates always love their veela.” His voice sounded confident, but she could tell he was trying to convince himself more so than her.

“You raped me,” she said, equally low. “Women do not love their rapists!

Draco recoiled as if she had just crucioed him. “I...I would never...never hurt you,” he said as the tears flowed freely down his chiseled cheeks.

“You already have!” Ripping open her blouse to show the bite marks and finger shaped bruises on her delicate skin, she ran from him in shame and embarrassment, with tears streaming down her face that had nothing to do with the new found empathy that had taken over her emotions.

She had felt him calling her all day since the incident, but not even missing classes seemed a good enough incentive to seek him out, apologetic, though she knew he was. Finally, in the evening when it was time for patrol, she could resist him no longer. Her shock that he didn't accompany her back to their rooms was nothing in comparison to finding not only her veela mate in the sitting room but Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy as well.



A/N- Sorry it took so long to update and I'm apologize for spelling and grammatical errors, as well. I felt like if I didn't get this up soon, I never would. Thank you for all the readers who are still with me. If you all lived in Surrey, I'd bake you all a cake!
Cheers!
G.C. ~