In Hogsmeade

Draco wadded up the parchment and threw it into the blazing fire. "Excellent," his father had written. "Unforeseen good fortune," the letter read. "Mark her now," it commanded.

Draco pushed the edges of his palms into his closed eyes. He wouldn't do it. He didn't want to get married at sixteen! He didn't want to inherit his father's legacy! He didn't want to be responsible for her yet! Ever! He meant ever!

He had waited until the end of the week to write his father, much to Blaise's amusement. Draco found himself to be at the root of much of Blaise's amusement these days. When Draco avoided her, Blaise would laugh. When Draco stared at her, Blaise would smile and shake his head, chuckling lowly. When a seventh-year Ravenclaw had stopped her in the hallway, chatting at her and smiling, Draco had shredded a nearby tapestry without even realising it. Blaise had mended the tapestry, but he hadn't let Draco live the incident down, and it was only the first week!

Hermione had already put his orders into effect. He had seen her walking with her friends and rubbing something along her braid as they talked. Whatever it was, her hair was shinier, and the curls more defined when she let them loose. He was thrilled and horrified at the same time.

Draco heard a slow rapping on his door...the distinctive knock of his Head of House. He waved his wand at the door, and it swung open. "Professor, do come in," he said wearily, flopping down on his bed.

Severus Snape came into the room carrying two phials. "You have news from your father?" Professor Snape asked as he placed the phials in a rack and retrieved two empty ones.

"Yes, he'd have me take her now, because her Muggle parents would just love having a vicious creature come home with her at the Yule hols to explain that she is no longer theirs."

Professor Snape nodded. "Luckily you get your conscience from your mother."

At that, Draco groaned. Technically, his mother was the head of the Malfoy household. She wasn't a Veela. As the full human in the pairing, she had the legal authority. Still, she let her husband rule over her as the patriarch of the family. Or, rather, her husband's pheromones ruled over her.

"Have you experienced any relief?" Professor Snape asked as he walked to the door.

"None," Draco offered apologetically. Being near to her every day seemed to counter-balance the affect of the potions.

"Well, you will go to Hogsmeade tomorrow; it is possible that being away from the castle may help. However, I must let you know that the Headmaster is going to announce a Yule Ball tomorrow at breakfast. You should find a way to make sure you do not have to draw and quarter any of your school mates." With a nod, the professor left the boy alone with more experimental potions.

Draco went to breakfast as early as possible. He told himself that he did this to avoid her, but since he could smell her before he could see her, a deeper part of him knew otherwise. He ate his breakfast mindlessly, more concerned with what Hermione was eating.

Draco watched as she spooned jam into her porridge and sipped her tea. Finally, the Headmaster announced that there would indeed be a Yule Ball that year and to start preparations in advance so as not to add to the stress of the end of the term. The professors began moving toward the gates to check students out on their way to the village immediately after the Headmaster made his announcement.

Draco watched the Golden Trio gather their things and washed his breakfast down with a full goblet of pumpkin juice. He tracked the three from a distance until they had all left the school, Draco hanging back so as to go unnoticed. He watched Hermione walk between Potter and Weasley with mixed emotions. On one hand, he was grateful that they intimidated the other boys who had begun to notice her. On the other hand, they were too close to her for his comfort.

With his eyes on the Gryffindors, Draco made sure to listen to his surroundings. Everyone was chattering about the Yule Ball. Everyone but Granger, anyway. She just walked and listened to her friends as they talked and gesticulated, nodding when the time came for it. Draco thought she seemed preoccupied, but her behaviour was not too different from that of the other witches as they worked to decide what they had to do for the ball, so he wrote it off.

Draco followed the trio until the boys split off to go to the Quidditch shop. If they had been proper gentlemen, they would have seen Granger to the bookshop safely and then gone on their way. Fortunately for Draco, they were not proper gentlemen. Despite his desire to be apart from the witch, he took Professor Snape's advice to heart. Draco couldn't begin to imagine what he would do if his witch was on the arm of another bloke. With careless grace, he entered the bookshop so he could take preventative measures.

The Arithmancy section of the store was dark and dusty with lots of tall stacks of books making little grottoes along the bookshelves. Relaxing his control, Draco let his mind reach for Granger. He could practically see his pheromones travel down the stairs to where she stood in the Astronomy section.

Granger smelled of raspberries and cinnamon. He could easily imagine tasting her flesh to find the verity of his olfactory sense. Draco exhaled quickly as he tried to regain his control. He watched her saunter towards him half blind from his scent. When she was about three feet away from him, he put out his hand to keep her from coming any closer.

"Stop," Draco said softly, holding Granger at arm's length. He watched, horrified, as his nails took on a coppery quality. He'd never gotten the chance to look at his claws before, and he longed to do so now. However, he hurriedly moved his hands behind his back so she wouldn't see her affect on him.

"You will politely refuse any offers to escort you to the Yule Ball," Draco said, sounding suspiciously like his father in his own mind. "You will go alone."

Draco watched as Granger's jaw fell slack. Then her mouth formed a succulent pout; her lower lip was red as ripe raspberries, glistening from a quick flick of her tongue. Draco had to back up a half step to keep himself under control. He looked around frantically. He had wanted to get her alone to give her the directive. However, he hadn't really planned for anything after that. Dammit! What to do now?

"Do you have any questions?" Draco asked, starting to sweat. The bookshop seemed to be unreasonably warm.

"Will you be giving me my dress?" Granger lifted her chin hopefully.

Her voice was low and smooth. It played in his ears like a song. Shaking himself out of the spell, he tried to assert his thoughts. "No!" Draco replied, pushing his fingers roughly through his hair. His pointed claws drew blood, and he couldn't help but watch as Granger sniffed the air. He was horrified to see her scent him out, thrilled by her inclination towards him which only exacerbated his horror at himself. "No. I'm not giving you a bloody dress." Draco flinched at his coarse language. His heart broke as her chin began to wobble.

"Was I bad?" Granger asked piteously. Tears were welling up in her eyes, and her right knee was beginning to quake. Draco couldn't decide if she was frustrated or heartbroken. Whatever it was she was doing her best to hold it in.

He had to think fast. He told himself he didn't want a scene in the bookshop, but that part of himself he had come to hate had different priorities. Draco lunged for her, putting his hands around her shoulders and pulling her close. He sniffed from the opening of her shirt up her neck and to her ear. Exhaling, he declared into her ear, "You... are splendid." He turned her and pressed her against a tall stack of books.

Granger arched up into him, baring her neck. Before he knew what he was doing, Draco was licking her neck again and again, readying a spot to sink his teeth into. He dragged his tongue over his developing fangs. He couldn't help but rub his cock against her hip.

Granger whimpered his name, clutching at him.

Hearing his name fall from her tongue cleared the fog from Draco's mind, and he pushed himself away. Leaning against a nearby bookshelf, Draco watched as his witch remained as she was, panting and bare-necked, just begging to be taken.

Slowly, she came back to a neutral pose. It seemed that time had stopped. They both stood panting for a few long moments. Finally, Draco was able to speak.

"I am leaving. You will continue your shopping. Get whatever you want. Do not follow me. When you are done, find your friends. The only thing I want you to remember is that you must refuse all offers from other blokes, Granger. Got it?"

She nodded.

"Do you have any questions?" Draco asked swallowing heavily. He could see them practically written across her face.

She nodded again.

"You may ask me two questions," Draco said as he straightened his robes. He pulled some coins from his purse on his belt and slid them into hers.

"Am I really splendid?" Granger watched him avidly. Her voice was still uneven, but the light in her eye had changed.

Draco smiled and stepped forwards. Taking a long inhalation through his nose, he traced one coppery claw lightly up her neck. As she shivered, he chuckled and said, "You are the very best."

Granger blushed deeply. Draco felt his cock tighten in his pants. He had to get out of there... soon.

"What should I wear, if you won't give me a dress?" Granger asked him, wide-eyed. Her shoulders had rolled forward slightly, causing her bosom to heave with each breath. Her voice had taken on a sultry undertone.

Draco shook his head and looked her over slowly. She was leaning ever so slightly closer to him each second. Part of him wanted to say "nothing" just to see if she would do it. He noticed that they were slowly coming together, closer and closer every second.

Draco sighed. "I will buy you a dress." He should have felt defeated, but seeing her face light up at his words was too delightful. He knew he'd just initiated the second of the preliminary ceremonies, but he tried not to think about it. "Now, be good, and do as I instructed."

Granger nodded excitedly. Draco snorted softly and looked into her face one last time. Finally, he turned and walked through the stacks and out of the shop.

Hearing the shop bell ring, Hermione grabbed the front of her robes and shook them to fan herself. She perched on a shelf and catalogued all the things she wanted to remember. They mainly boiled down to signs that Draco was conflicted about being mated to her.

Hermione had gotten the pertinent information about her situation on her first evening at Hogwarts. As soon as the Welcoming Feast had ended, she'd simply sought out her Head of House, showed her the cat, and recounted the events on the train. Hermione hadn't named names, but her Head of House didn't seem to need any further clues.

Hermione Granger was a Veela's fated mate. She was Draco Malfoy's mate. Something inside her told her that she should be offended on principle, but she just couldn't muster up the indignation. She had a magical bond with a handsome, intelligent, powerful wizard. She would be marrying into one of the oldest families in Wizarding Britain. The world was her proverbial oyster.

She did sense that Draco felt ashamed of himself. He hid himself from her, and he was clearly trying his hardest not to complete any of the rituals. He had assured her that the problem wasn't with her, and for some reason, Hermione believed him.

It's probably the pheromones making me trust him. He's certainly given me no reason to before. But wasn't that they way of boys and girls in the school yard? Draco Malfoy has changed, regardless of whether he chose to or not. The magic that comes from him now makes me weak; his mind must be at war with his body.

Fortunately for her, Hermione had a way of keeping her mind when he was around. Despite his magical radiation, she could maintain a level of conscious thought. When she knew to expect his presence, she simply had to recite the periodic table of elements in her mind. This kept her focus outside his control. Also, the things Draco said would latch on to each element. They became markers for her to remember his words by.

Palladium: "You are splendid."

Thorium: "I will buy you a dress."

Hermione jingled the coins in her purse before dumping them into her palm to count. She'd had her eye on a few books on Veelas. The coins in her hand would pay for all of those with Galleons to spare. Draco Malfoy had no idea what he had gotten himself into.