To Suffer a Veela

“VEELA- n. – a fantastical creature with powers of great seduction and terrible destruction. Human in appearance and typically fair complected, these creatures have phenomenal magical capabilities. Sexually driven, all veela are irresistible to the opposite sex but have only one mate. Veela are jealous, possessive creatures who will stop at nothing in the acquisition of a mate. They identify their mate by scent and heightened awareness that begins at puberty and culminates with the onset of adulthood. Once discovered, the veela’s mate is marked and then claimed through a bonding process. Because a veela will perish without his or her mate there are strict laws determining that those whom fate has marked to be a mate must yield in submission to the veela or serve a prison sentence for murder as this is what they essentially do to a rejected veela.”

Hermione closed the book and resisted the urge to scream. It hadn’t told her anything she didn’t already know, but she needed to review the information herself, actually see it in comforting black and white, before she made any hasty decisions. There was very little on veela in the Wizarding World Encyclopedia anyway as they were secretive creatures. As soon as she could, she would go to the library and look for books on rare magical creatures but right now she didn’t want to leave her room and the only books in the Head Girl chamber were a set of encyclopedias. It was her first day so she hadn’t unpacked her own library yet. Besides, if what Professor McGonagall told her was true, she wouldn’t be staying for very long as she and the Head Boy would be combining quarters very soon, whether she liked it or not.

He was outside her room. She could feel his presence like a weight pressing down on her body. She pressed a hand to the open wound on the spot where her shoulder and neck met, just above her collar bone. He was calling her. The more she tried to fight it, the worse she felt. As she sat there trying to wait it out, the mark on her neck began throbbing with an insistent need. It was like having a full body migraine. Everything inside of her demanded that she seek him out. There was only a wooden door and not more than five yards between them, but she felt like he was on the other side of the world. Her stomach twisted and she felt him redouble his efforts. She clawed at the mark on her neck because it literally felt like it was on fire. Unable to take it anymore, she stood up and without even bothering to find her shoes, she half-ran, half-drug herself from the room.

She was still a mess from their previous encounter, so when she spilled into the room, barefoot, torn dress and eyes wet from crying, she was a stark contrast to his rigid, cold stance and painstakingly orderly clothes. His face was flushed with anger, but his bitter grey eyes glowed with triumph and glee. Her brain wanted her to run the opposite direction, but the pheromones he could emit at will had already reached her and so she had no choice but to hurl herself towards him. He reached out and snatched her to him before she even got there.

“Why did you run away?” he asked as he squashed her against him. Her floral sundress, which he’d ruined already, fell from her shoulders and he used the non-functional straps to hold her arms pinned to her sides. He sniffed at her in the most disturbing way; like Crookshanks sniffing at a mouse hole. “Where did you go?”

“I went to the Headmistress’ office,” she choked out. Every instinct she possessed made her arch into him and that terrified her. Up until four hours ago, she had never been attracted to Draco Malfoy in the slightest. He was one of the most pined after boys at Hogwarts but she had found him repulsive. Now she couldn’t get enough of him. “I had to ask her if it was true and if there was a way out.”

He growled and shook her slightly. “You will not fight this. You belong to me and it would not matter where you went, I would find you.” Whatever he had been sniffing pleased him because he smirked. “Besides you don’t really want to leave, do you?”

Hermione’s brain was a fog of sexual frustration as she shook her head no.

“No, you want to stay with me, don’t you?” Fervently, she shook her head yes. “You want to be with me forever, don’t you?” Again, she whimpered a response in the affirmative and he chuckled as he pulled her dress down to expose her bare torso. “Yes, you know that you’re my mate and you wanted that first mark, didn’t you? You wanted me to claim you, didn’t you?”

“Yes, oh yes,” she sighed and before she realized what she was doing, she pulled at his shirt, breaking buttons as she ripped it from his chest in an effort to touch his skin.

Draco continued to sniff at her like an animal. He pushed her dress all the way to the floor and pulled her so that she was out of it. Bringing her over to the couch, he pushed her onto her back and knelt in front of her, continuing his strange behaviour. Soon, he began not only sniffing, but nuzzling her and licking her as well. It was almost as if he were cleaning her. He sniffed all around her neck and then he poked out his tongue and lapped at first the wound he had created earlier and then her pulse point which he sucked lightly upon.

When he moved from her shoulders to her chest, alarm bells went off in her head. No other male had ever seen her naked before. She tried to cover up, but with a growl and a nip, he held her arms down. His nose snuffled along each one of the full mounds of her breasts and then he grinned wolfishly at her. He opened his mouth and took as much of her breast into it as he could fit, suckling at her like a hungry kitten.

“Mm, Malfoy” she moaned. She couldn’t help herself. She felt utterly ashamed of her behavior, but the mere thought of denying him her body or its responses felt catastrophic. The disappointment she felt at the loss of his mouth was practically tangible.

“What did I tell you to call me?” he asked, his voice low and his fingertips casually caressing the sensitive skin along her hip bones.

“Draco,” she whimpered. His voice and his movements were calm, but his eyes were livid.

“That’s right,” he whispered. “You are my mate and you will treat me with respect. That includes always addressing me by my first name…Hermione.”

Logically, she knew that it was against a veela’s nature to harm his mate, but they were jealous, possessive and controlling creatures and Draco Malfoy was a possessive, controlling man and he was not tender. The manner of her claiming and first marking had told her that.

~*~*~*~FLASHBACK~*~*~*~

The war was over and ‘the lost class of Hogwarts’, as they were now called, was returning for their final year. Even Neville and the other purebloods who had been present for Snape’s turn as Headmaster came back because the Ministry agreed that the education received that terrible year was far less than satisfactory. The class of 1997 was combined with the class of 1998 for most courses, with a few other courses singled out only for those who should have graduated in 1997.

For this academic year, there were two sets of Head students chosen. Hermione should have held the position during the year that she hunted for horcruxes so it wasn’t fair to deny her the position; however, it also wasn’t fair to deny the girls a year below her a chance to be placed in the position as no one could compete with her qualifications. She shared her head girl status with Susannah Forstein from Hufflepuff, a plump, cheery girl with dark skin and an illuminating smile.

Their counterparts were Jeremiah Cook from Ravenclaw and Draco Malfoy from Slytherin. Malfoy had been head boy last year and even though he had a checkered past, the school’s board of governors had placed him in the position again when Harry Potter had declined it. He had been tried as an adult and found innocent of all crimes. Most people knew of the threats he had endured and the hold that Voldemort had over his family and most were understanding but derisive towards him. No one openly mocked him however, because he had proven himself to be a greatly accomplished wizard throughout the entire ordeal. He did have the best grades and he had proven to be a capable leader. Also, his placement as head boy was one of Harry’s ideas to start bridging the gap between the two sides and start paving a road towards forgiveness. The wizarding world wasn’t going to heal over night, but it certainly wasn’t going to heal at all if people were made to pay for mistakes over and over again.

Even though most returned, not all of their class opted to return. Ron had decided to forego finishing out his formal schooling, opting instead to move to Romania with his brother Charlie. The romance between him and Hermione was over before it even started. He told her that he loved her, but that he needed some time to figure out who he was. Hermione had cried, but not because she was heartbroken. She cried because she felt like a chapter in her life had come to an abrupt close. She knew that she and Ron would never have been happy together as a couple, but their unspoken romance had been a constant in her life that was comforting to her. It was part of what defined her as a person.

So now she was in the prefects’ compartment on the Hogwarts Express giving out schedules at the close of the prefects meeting. She felt awkward because everyone was staring at her and not because she had just given a speech about unity. Her fellow Gryffindors looked at her with pride, the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws with awe and the Slytherin students looked at her with a mixture of awe and fear. She knew there were students in the compartment whose parents had been Death Eaters and they looked at her with guilt or as if she was going to pounce on them and make them pay for their wrong doings. She shook her head as Susannah and Jeremiah exited the compartment, leaving her alone with Malfoy. She did not want to be alone with Malfoy.

She wasn’t afraid of him. She had faced down men much more evil than the one standing in front of her. She knew that he wouldn’t, no, couldn’t, harm her. She didn’t know why, she just sensed it. It didn’t make him any less intimidating, however, and it certainly didn’t alleviate the feelings of uncertainty as he stared at her as if she were prey.

“Did you have any questions, Malfoy?” she asked, her voice sounding braver than she felt. Why did he make her nervous? She could best him at wand work and he was less than a fraction as cruel as his aunt, Bellatrix.

“Why did you let him touch you?” he asked, his fringe clouding his eyes from view. He advanced on her and she instinctively backed up. The little boy she had punched her third year was gone and in his place was a very muscular, potent male.

“I don’t know what or whom you are talking about, Malfoy,” she said as she turned her head to the side.

He was on her in a flash and she had no time to wonder how he’d gotten so close when he lifted her chin and forced her to look at him. “Why did you let Weasley touch you? How could you let that vermin put his hands on you?” he hissed. “Don’t lie to me. I know you let him touch you.”

“Get off of me!” she snarled. “He isn’t vermin and if you’re talking about our supposed relationship this summer, it never even happened. Besides, it isn’t any of your business who I let touch me.”

“It is my business! No male will ever touch you again, understood?” His right arm shot out and caught her wand arm as she tried to hex him. He gripped her wrist and placed pressure on her pulse point, making her wand clatter to the floor. Jerking herself backwards, she pulled out of his grasp and instead of running as she should have; she slapped him with all her might.

“Ferret,” she hissed as she turned on her heel to locate her wand.

“Draco,” he said to her in a calm tone that belied the fact that she had just walloped him good.

“What are you talking about, Malfoy? I don’t know what is going on in your delusional, psychotic brain, but this conversation is now over.” She saw her wand under the seat on the back far right of the compartment and she dropped to her knees to reach for it.

“Draco,” he repeated, grabbing her chin in his hand and forcing her dark eyes to meet his cold grey ones. “From now on you will address me only as Draco.”

Suddenly, he attacked her, pulling her close to his body. One arm trapped her lower body to his, pelvis to pelvis, while the other one gripped its fingers in her curls, tilting her head back, exposing her throat. She thrashed about violently, kicking her legs out at whatever they could find purchase on, but it wasn’t enough. He leaned her body backwards, throwing her off balance. If she continued to struggle, she would topple over. He gripped cotton fabric of her sundress and ripped it in half at the front of the bodice. She hadn’t worn a bra that day so her pale breast was exposed to his steely gaze.

With a sound like a growl, he put the flat part of his tongue on the inside of her breast and licked a path around the mound, over the nipple and up to the base of her neck. Hermione whimpered pitifully, certain he was about to rape her. Draco lifted his head and stared into her eyes. They looked hurt, painfully sorrowful. It was as if her rejection of him caused him physical pain. Her confusion over his distress was nothing in comparison to the warning in her gut when his eyes suddenly began to glow and his facial features twisted into a determined grimace. His breathing became increasingly laboured and her heart pounded in her chest as she watched a set of fangs grow in his mouth.

Opening his mouth wide, like an opera singer holding a high note, he clamped his teeth down on the base of her neck, the fangs and bicuspids piercing her skin. The cry she uttered was so hoarse it was barely heard. It felt like liquid fire was being pumped into her body, but she couldn’t free herself from his grip. The pain was almost unbearable and it just kept pouring out of his mouth. As the venom poured from his fangs, she could feel him drinking her blood. Her eyelids began to droop and she briefly wondered if she was dieing. She began to feel warm and weightless and with the exception of the continuing burning pain from his fangs, she began to feel content in his arms.

‘You are my mate. Will you stay with me?’ A voice in her head broke through the fog.

“Yes,” she whispered out loud. Reality was slipping from her like words written in the sand at high tide.

‘You are exquisitely beautiful and your body pleases me greatly. Do you want to please me in all the ways a mate should?’ The voice sounded like silk, dark chocolate and deep mahogany wood and Hermione felt heat pool between her thighs.

“I do,” she said in a breathless voice.

‘I want you to stay with me, Hermione. Will you be mine, always?’ The sound was so pleasant and tantalizing she would give anything to receive the unspoken promise of passion the voice offered.

“Always,” she murmured. Her body had completely relaxed in Draco’s grip now and she was vaguely aware of being cradled against him as he stroked her exposed breast, sending a thread of want straight to her core.

The burning sensation continued, but it had dulled slightly. Eyelids drifting closed, her arms hung limp at her sides while her legs sat straight out in front of her. She felt her dress being pushed upwards, but she was unconcerned.

‘I’m going to mark you and claim you as mine. You want that, don’t you, love? Will you let me mark you?’ Hermione was in love with the smooth masculine voice in her head.

“Yes,” she replied feeling more aroused than she ever thought possible. She would promise the voice anything.

Her knickers were slid down her legs and hastily cast aside. She felt them leave but felt no distress at being so exposed. The voice made her feel safe and cherished. This was right. Two fingers that matched the voice in their welcome, luxurious feeling probed at the curls covering her sex. She whimpered as they pet the neatly trimmed hair over her pubic bone before sliding downward and opening the outer lips of her sex. Her hips bucked in an attempt to get those fingers to touch the bundle of nerves that was already throbbing with want.

‘Impatient little pet, aren’t we?’ it asked and Hermione moaned in aggravated want. The teeth around her flesh tightened and she grimaced in pain but the fingers dancing around her sex made her forget about the steady stream of pain flowing into her body. She was wetter than she’d ever been in her life and the two searching digits glided into her tight opening. She felt gloriously full.

The mouth on her neck sucked in at the feel of her moist, tight opening clamping around the fingers. The thumb attached to the two fingers began to rub her clit in a maddeningly slow massage and she bucked her hips in time to the thrusting of the digits inside her tight passage.

‘I need you to come, pet,’ the voice said urgently in her head. ‘Come for me so we can start this.’ She was so very, very close and the commanding voice in her head was so sensual and pleasant, she couldn’t help but push herself over the edge, grabbing on to the broad shoulders by which she’d apparently been held. Her senses exploded and she saw a myriad of colors as the venom that had been released into her veins was pumped throughout her circulatory system by the force of her erratic heart beat from her orgasm.

She felt warm and satiated and safe as she lay in the circle of Malfoy’s arms. Wait a minute. Malfoy’s arms? Sitting up, she looked into his hooded grey eyes. Slowly, he pulled his long fingers out of her and she gasped at the loss before watching in fascinated horror as he licked them clean.

“You taste exquisite,” he purred and she realized that his voice matched the one in her head.

Her first thought was to lean into him and that terrified her. Instead, she picked herself up and stared down at him horrified. His lips were covered in blood, her blood. He was smiling. She had never seen Draco Malfoy genuinely smile at anything before in her life and it terrified her. So she did what her second thought was and she covered herself as best she could and she ran.


A/N- Here’s the first part of my veela fic and the veela lore is pieced together from several different fics, but mainly “Malfoy’s Mate”. I fully intend on finishing my other fics, it’s just that writer’s block and grad school have intervened. I hope everyone had a Happy Christmas and New Year. Cheers! G.C.