After Breakfast

Draco sat and ignored his breakfast as he watched anxiously for the post to come down. He had found a dress for Hermione, and it was to arrive today.

Draco was nervous. Somehow his father had heard of Draco's trouble's locating a dress and had pulled him out of school the week before to attend to "urgent family business". The moment the two men had been beyond the Apparation point, his father had shoved a Portkey into Draco's hand. They'd arrived in an elite boutique in Paris.

Draco had paid the sales witch a handsome bag of Galleons to make sure the box came wrapped in brown paper, saying it was from Granger's parents, and that it could only be delivered to her.

What he didn't know was that his father had also paid the witch to make sure that the package went to Draco. Draco would have to offer it to her instead of having it delivered, which Lucius thought was foolhardy and inefficient in the extreme.

The owls began to flood the Great Hall, and Draco's look of anticipation turned thunderous when a long thin box landed on his breakfast instead of Granger's. Disallowing any attention to his delivery from his housemates, Draco picked up the box and left the Great Hall.

Although he looked completely nonchalant to everyone else, a great storm was brewing inside of the young Veela. Only his Head of House, his best friend, and his mate knew. Each of them quickly made their exits, careful to make it look like any other morning.

Draco knew she was behind him even before he could hear her footsteps. He turned down a little-used, darkened corridor and waited for her.

When Granger finally reached him, she was nearly panting with exertion to catch up.

Draco thrust the box at her.

Granger looked at it as if it was a list of hexes he planned to hit her with.

"Take. It." Draco's tense jaw wouldn't even move to speak to her.

Granger looked at him as if she could envision something tragic was about to happen if she took the box.

Draco could feel his heart bending to her impending sadness. "Oh, Merlin's bloody ball sack!" Draco exclaimed, only barely managing to keep from stomping his foot. He tossed his hair out of his eyes and took a few calming breaths.

Finally he was able to say, "Hermione Granger, I offer you this garment. It would please me if you would receive it and wear it among society. Do you accept?"

Draco could feel the magic swelling around them as his lips moved to make the second sound of her name. He watched closely as her body reacted to the magical force. She was truly divine, and although he'd been in denial about wanting to see her in the perfect dress he'd found, now he wanted her in it more than almost anything.

"I will receive the garment," Hermione said with breathless delight. She had barely caught her breath to begin with, and now the increased power of the ritual was overwhelming her.

Draco breathed a sigh of relief when she accepted the box. He could hear people trickling into the halls, and he stepped closer to her. "You'll tell everyone that your parents sent you the dress from a Muggle store... Quickly go to the Owlery, and post the package to yourself to arrive tonight." Draco touched Hermione's cheek with the backs of his knuckles.

Leaning into his touch and into his body, Hermione looked up at him. "Won't you want to see it tonight?"

Granger's husky voice cut through the fog in Draco's brain. He tried to step back from her but found she was gripping his robes tightly. "Let go of me, Granger."

She didn't let go. Instead she pressed into him. "You said I'm a good mate. Why don't you want me?" Hermione's voice wavered as she looked him with pleading eyes.

Draco felt that something was off. Still, he stroked her hair gently and said, "It's not that simple."

"But it is that simple. We are so close..." Hermione answered in more of a natural tone than she typically spoke with when under his influence.

Draco grabbed her hair and pulled her face toward his. "You think you want this, don't you! You think you know exactly what's been happening!" Finally, he thrust her away from him, careless of her stumbles as she hit the corridor wall.

"Do you think I'm bloody daft, Malfoy?" Hermione asked from against the stones, bracing herself. "You waited too fucking long to guide me on the train. I remembered everything you said."

"And you think you want to be my mate, Mudblood?" Draco raged at her. This was wrong: it was all so wrong! Draco was pacing in front of her like a caged beast.

"Why are you being such a coward about it? We could be so brilliant together!"

"Coward? Coward? Excuse me from trying to save you from the agony of changing into a fucking half-human beast! Three days of pure excruciating hell, Granger, three fucking days! And they had to restrain me as the blood seeped through my bones and changed me." Draco stopped to look at her taking a few steps in her direction.

"It won't be the same for me," Hermione said softly, trying to reason with him.

"Is that what you think? Tell me, Granger, have you ever had venom seep through your body and change your magic?" Draco stalked up to her and pressed her against the wall, spreading her thighs with one of his. He turned her head and pulled the hair back so he could see her neck, which he sniffed and licked. Finally, he scraped his teeth gently along the tender flesh.

"Tell me, Mate," Draco growled, sneering down at her. He pulled one hand, now transformed with full claws, up into her line of sight and whispered into her ear, "Do you see these pretty copper thorns at the ends of my fingers? Do you think they won't prick you?"

"No... but I want it. I want you to use them on me." Hermione's voice came out as an impassioned moan. She couldn't stop herself from grinding on his thigh.

Draco groaned in pained lust. He punched the stone beside her head, and it crumbled a little. Setting his claws into the stonework, he could feel the venom flowing slow but steady from his claws.

Hermione turned to sniff at it, sighing contentedly.

"You like that? You want that poison in you? You want me to bind with you forever? You may be able to keep your wits about you now, but believe me, Granger, once that is in your system, you'll be mine. Totally, completely, and utterly mine," Draco threatened, his words gliding down from his mouth and into her ear.

Hermione arched against him; she moaned and pulled her face away from his beautiful claws so she could look at his eyes. "Yes..." Hermione hissed, desperately. "Just start it, Draco, please. I need it!"

Draco growled and punched the wall again before pushing away from her. "You do not know what you are saying! You know nothing!" He turned and stormed off down the opposite end of the hall.

Hermione whined as she lost the heat and the pressure of his body. Her knees wobbling, she slid down the wall and shouted after him, "You can't go without forever, Draco! Why put it off?"

The only answer was the sound of his heels as they clicked in the distance.

"Shite!" Blaise said softly from his hiding place a few feet from Hermione. He'd warded the hallway as students had gone by. He was hoping that Granger could have sealed the deal and that things could get back to normal. He shook his head gently as he looked at the girl. Feeling a heavy hand on his shoulder, Blaise nearly jumped out of his skin.

"A five point loss for language, Mr. Zabini," Professor Snape said. Watching the young girl writhing gently as she came down from the erotic magic she'd been exposed to, he nodded. "However, for such an astute summation of the circumstances and ensuring Slytherin business stays in house, you earn fifteen points."

Blaise heard the delight in the professor's voice and smirked.

Snape continued softly, "Go alert Professor McGonagall, and have her come here, and then find Mr. Malfoy. You and Mr. Malfoy are excused from classes today."

"Yes, sir," Blaise said and with a quick turn on his heel, he went on his way.

Meanwhile, Professor Snape conjured a blanket as he walked towards Hermione, spreading it over her where she huddled on the floor. They quietly waited for the Head of Gryffindor to relieve Professor Snape of his charge.