The Yule Ball

"Your mother would have your broom if she knew you were sitting in those robes on that dusty window ledge," Blaise announced, his face a few inches from a Disillusioned foot.

"Fortunately, you aren't my mother, and you need me to catch the snitch so we have a chance at the House Cup." Draco's reply was pure arrogant disinterest.

"So this is what you are going to do all night?" Blaise asked as he leaned against the wall and looked out over the ball which was well underway.

"Clearly," Draco replied, and silence stretched between the two boys.

Eventually, Blaise decided to cut to the chase. "She does look radiant in that dress," he pressed gently. His friend was volatile at best and downright dangerous at worst these days.

"I would prefer not to discuss the succubus, if you please," Draco said sullenly as he turned his head away from the Yule Ball to look through the leaded glass.

"Everyone is looking for you. I heard a fourth year saying that you'd gone off to find a place to snog with her."

"Amaria Pucey," Draco replied knowingly. Finger a girl once over a year ago, and she thinks you're engaged! Draco snorted.

"Indeed. I wonder what your succubus would have to say about that," Blaise tried gently.

"She knows better," Draco said, ignoring the knot in his gut that indicated that something was not right between them. He had chosen this window as a perch so that he could watch what he had come to call the Forsaken Ball from all angles. Even now, he could see her fidgeting with a doily as she looked for him. A younger Gryffindor girl was prattling away nervously in her ear.

"Does she? You know she's telling people she doesn't have a date because the one person she wanted to come with didn't offer."

"She doesn't really want me, she wants the pheromones," Draco pouted.

"Riiiiight... Rich, intelligent blokes have such a hard time finding birds, it's a good thing you're handsome, or so I hear," Blaise reasoned.

Draco's response was silence. He'd always been fascinated by Granger, but he'd never known why, really. Now he knew, and it was so obvious that he hated that he hadn't seen it before. He also hated that he felt so out of control of his life. There had been very few real options for him in the first place, and now his father's blood as well as his money and his name would precede Draco wherever he went. He had wondered a lot in the last few months what life would be like if he was average and anonymous. His brooding was interrupted by the sound of Blaise's voice as he pushed off the wall.

"Well, if you aren't going to pull the snitch out of your arse, I'm going to go ask the loveliest bird at the ball to dance," Blaise said as he threw down the proverbial gauntlet.

"I'm not threatened by you. Just make sure no one else touches her," Draco regained the bored voice that he had started with and even turned away from the dark boy.

Blaise walked away with an evil smile across his face. He conjured a pure white rose and sauntered to where Hermione sat.

Hermione was startled by the full bloom of a white rose inches from her mouth. Looking up, she saw a look of mischief in the eyes of one Blaise Zabini, and looked around for Draco immediately.

"Would you care to dance?" Blaise asked, offering his hand in courtly fashion. He raised his eyebrows challengingly.

Never one to back down from a challenge, Hermione smiled sweetly, giving one last look around for Draco before she allowed Blaise to lead her to the dance floor for a slow song. To say Hermione was startled when she found her hip pulled snug against Blaise's would be a gross understatement.

"What are you doing?" Hermione asked fearfully. She didn't want Draco to see her like this with what she could only assume was his best friend. It's not like the tall, mysterious Slytherin holding her carefully had ever chanced more than an intense glance at her, let alone a greeting or, heaven forbid, a conversation.

"I know he'll get back to normal if he just gets over this bout of nobility, and I... saw what happened when he gave you the dress. All we have to do is help him to get over himself."

Hermione snorted. It would figure that her mate would choose this one time to be up-standing. She nodded and relaxed, daring to put her head gently on the shoulder of her dance partner.

"Now, in a moment, Draco's other good friend, Vincent, who is also in on this plan, is going to come and cut in. He's going to smile, and you're going to smile, and a certain someone is going to come in and stake his bloody claim already. You're going to be a brave little lion and take it, right?"

Hermione had been lulled into the rhythm of the dance and the gentle baritone that was informing her of events to come. When he stopped, she looked up at him, her features relaxed, and nodded contentedly.

Blaise smiled, moving one hand to stroke some hair away from her cheek. However his progress was stopped by a pale hand on his bicep.

"Zabini, I simply must cut in."

Hermione jerked her head at the unfamiliar boy who cut in. When her mind heard Vincent, she knew Blaise meant Vincent Crabbe, a roly-poly thug that Draco kept around so he wouldn't have to do anything too dirty. However, the boy cutting in to dance with her was nothing of the sort.

Hermione couldn't help but stare. Vincent Crabbe had matured into a surprisingly handsome young man. He was still broad, but flatter now, and muscular. His round face was endearing, and when he quirked one side of his mouth up and winked at her, Hermione couldn't help but blush.

"I think I won the bet, mate," Vincent said as Blaise passed Hermione's hand over to him with grace.

Hermione looked between the boys, confused, even as Vincent pulled her into position to begin dancing. "Bet?" she asked, feeling extremely confused.

"How long it would take Drake to come and get you. Blaise said thirty seconds, and I told him ten. That pretty blush just earned me fifty Galleons," Vincent said quietly, leaning into her. Seeing her blush again at the compliment made him chuckle. As he smiled, he turned her so she could watch the wall where he knew Draco had perched.

Hermione's expression quickly turned to shock as the glorious visage of her mate storming angrily towards her came into view.

He stared at her, furious, and wove expertly through a cluster of tables and then a few couples dancing on the fringes.

Hermione flinched and squeezed Vincent's hand where she held it in warning. It was just soon enough that the boy could duck away from the brunt of Draco's fist as it thrust across his jaw. Vincent's teeth clacked, but no real harm was done.

Snarling quietly, Draco seized Hermione by the wrist and dragged her out of the ball. He didn't look back at her but moved to the stairs that led to the nearest tower.

Hermione ran as fast as she could to keep up with his pace. As they reached the battlement, Hermione's chest was heaving, and she could already feel her wrist bruising.

"I thought you wanted me!" Draco screamed in anguish, releasing her roughly into the center of the tower.

Hermione caught herself and turned to face him. This proved to be difficult as he was now circling her like a wild beast.

His claws were out, and his flesh had an unearthly luminescence to it. Pheromones were flooding from his body, but the cold winter's breeze kept blowing them away.

Hermione swallowed heavily, fear and adrenaline coursing through her. "I do, I do! I want only you!"

"You smiled at them," Draco accused, his circle getting tighter around her.

"It was their plan to provoke you," Hermione insisted and began to reach out to him.

"Crabbe would snog you in a heartbeat. We used to take the piss out of him for it when we were firsties," Draco grumbled, mostly to himself.

Finally, Hermione caught a fist full of Draco's robes, and pulled him out of his orbit around her. "Mate," she whispered, hoping it was seductive. Finally coming close to him, she got the brunt force of his pheromones. She pressed her body against him and was practically purring when he finally came back to himself.

"Granger," Draco muttered fearfully. His conscious mind was finally overcoming the beast within. He stood perfectly still. She was pressing against him, and he was having a hard time not pushing her to the stone floor and claiming her. "Granger, stop."

Hermione ignored him, persisting on bringing their bodies as close together as possible. "I wore the garment you gave me, Mate. Am I what you hoped for?"

Hermione was practically climbing up his body, but Draco was frozen with dread. "Granger, listen to me, you have to stop." He placed his hands on her shoulders to push her away, but once his hands were on her, he found himself struck dumb by indecision.

"I'm not pretty enough." Hermione's insecurity whispered from her lips at his perceived rejection. Her face began to fall, and she pulled her body away, looking the embodiment of defeat.

Inside his mind, Draco could hear a voice screaming that none of this was real, it was all nonsense. However, his body felt the chill of her absence too greatly while they were up on the frozen battlement to pay any attention to it. Going purely on instinct, he kissed her hard, pulling her back against his body. When her arms began to snake over his shoulders and around his neck, Draco began nipping at her.

"You are the most magnificent mate," Draco panted against her skin, cradling her body as he brought her down to the stone floor, laying her on her back. He climbed over her and began licking every inch of her neck, preparing her for his bite.

Hermione was moaning and writhing beneath him, and she whimpered when his teeth grazed her neck. Her legs were tossed open wantonly, and Draco soon found himself lying between them. Her arms rested beside her, loose and ready for anything he wanted.

"You are the most beautiful vision." Draco's voice came out like velvet and wrapped around Hermione. It wasn't deeper or louder, but it felt like a strong connection had been forged between them.

Hermione arched her back and began to bunch up her skirts, revealing her naked thighs and cunt.

Draco roared his approval, and his fingers quickly squelched inside of her drenched pussy. He began to spread her juices over her thighs with his hand. Once she was coated, Draco began to lick her clean, his tongue teasing Hermione's thighs again and again. His right hand slid under her dress, holding her steady while his left hand teased her clit.

His tongue worked its way closer and closer to her core. His focus trained on sucking her clit, he failed to notice when the five claws on his right hand sunk into her flesh. She screamed, her back arching, and Draco fervently redoubled his efforts. The licking and sucking, finger-fucking, and inadvertent claiming bringing Hermione to higher peaks every second.

When her orgasm finally crested, Draco looked up to watch her face. It was divine, the way her lips trembled in ecstasy. As she came down, Draco noticed the swirling light of magic ritual behind her. Confused, he looked her body over, finding the claws of his right hand still slightly embedded in her flesh. Draco screamed in horror; seeing her blood on his fingers mixed with venom, he fell backward onto his heels and stared dazedly at his hand.

Meanwhile, Hermione began squirming before him. Her legs were bent up so that her delicious quim was exposed and inviting. Her feet slid occasionally, and she would pull them back again and again, opening herself to him.

Draco's nostrils flared at the scent. A war was waging in him, and he was petrified, unable to claim her, but also unable to look away.

"Mate," Hermione whined, her hands clutching at the dress. "Draco?" she pleaded, her back arching as she pressed her hands over her body to soothe her frenzied nerves.

"Hermione," Draco whispered, aghast at what he'd done. He'd tried so hard to keep them from this very thing, and it had all gone so wrong.

"Draco? Please... Please, I need...," Hermione whimpered, moving both her hands down to press firmly over her quim, spreading her lips even further.

Draco swallowed thickly, and his mind decided finally to flee. "I'm going for help. I've hurt you; I have to go get help." Draco turned and, after stumbling a few steps, broke through the dissipating magical field and ran to find his Head of House.

He was shocked to find not only Professor Snape at the bottom of the battlement's stairs but also Professor McGonagall. Draco almost wept in relief and fear. He refused to acknowledge the sadness that welled up inside him knowing his mate was up those stairs yearning for him.

"I didn't mean to. I didn't mean to do anything. I swear, it was an accident," Draco pleaded with them earnestly.

"Is she hurt?" Professor McGonagall pursed her lips.

"I started it. It's begun," Draco said, his body beginning to tremble. His fangs were pressing into his tongue, and he could taste the venom dripping down them.

"Then we must retrieve her," Professor McGonagall began to move up the stairs.

"No!" Draco yelled, drawing back and startling the professors. "You must keep me away from her. She still has a chance."

Draco collapsed into a ball on the stairs, missing the meaningful look exchanged between the two professors.

"I will retrieve some of the suppressant potion then, if you will tend to Miss Granger's immediate needs," Professor Snape offered.

Professor McGonagall agreed, nodding softly and starting again up the stairs. Professor Snape turned to hurry toward the dungeons where his laboratory was.

After a moment's respite, Draco stood up and hurried away, unable to think of anything but his newest quest.

Draco went straight to the Headmaster once he got his emotions and his erection under control.

Explaining his situation to the Headmaster had been surprisingly easy and difficult at the same time. Draco hated that he couldn't handle the situation himself; he hated that he had to incorporate yet another person into his own personal hell. Still, the Headmaster had nodded his head in sad understanding and reluctantly agreed to Draco's terms with essentially no argument.

Leaving the Headmaster's office, Draco found he was exhausted. He wondered about Hermione and where she was recovering. Would she be in the hospital wing? Would they have sent her back to her room by now, bandaged, with bottles of the new, effective suppressant in tow? Would she be safe?

Draco was coming to the staircase that would swing to go to Gryffindor tower, lost in his thoughts when he bumped into the stationary form of Professor Snape.

"Mr. Malfoy, I must admit I am surprised to find you in this portion of castle after the evening's events. While I am certain you would not wish to rejoin the merrymakers in the Great Hall, I must admit I assumed you would retire directly to your room," Professor Snape said, looking down his nose at Draco.

Draco smirked. He was nearly as tall as the other man now, and judging by his father's height, he'd be slightly taller than the professor by the time he finished growing. "I was considering the whereabouts of Hermi-," Draco started to say but stopped himself immediately as her name began to fall from his lips.

Professor Snape's eyebrows shot up. "Do mine ears deceive me, young master Malfoy?"

Fuck! Bloody fuck! Bloody, sodding, arse-faced fuck! Draco had called her by her given name. He realised he'd been doing it since before he'd arrived at the Headmaster's office. Fuck!

Draco couldn't resist scrunching his eyes up in pain as he thought about what he'd done. He was half tempted to throw himself from one of the moving stairways, but didn't want to do it since his Head of House would have to clean up the mess.

He was startled to feel a warm, firm grip on his shoulder. Meeting his professor's gaze, Draco and Professor Snape had a silent conversation before the professor turned him so that they could walk back to the dungeons.

In her rooms, Hermione laid on her side, looking at the five puncture marks in her hip with a hand mirror. The one from his thumb was at the front of her hip, where he'd held her pelvis as though it were a handle. Four more were in a gentle arc where her arse just began to get meaty. The wounds were throbbing.

Hermione had declined taking all five vials of suppressant that Professor Snape offered her. It had taken two just get her to a point where she could say anything besides "please" or "Draco". She had taken a third to get close to her right mind, but after that she refused.

The venom made everything so... much more! She could see how it would be scary to see more, hear more, feel more, and how it could be overwhelming to the point of agony. However, since Hermione was not the type to take mind altering substances, she took this as her one chance to view the world through a new lens.

Professor McGonagall had shepherded Madame Pomfrey from the room when Snape had come with the potions. Under the influence of the venom, Hermione had been more creature than girl, and it was unsafe to have any unnecessary persons present.

Hermione had initially resisted the suppressant. She wanted to finish mating, not stop short. Professor Snape had had to restrain her, barely dodging her wild elbows and knees. Ultimately he had cast an Incarcerus, plugged her nose with his own hand and poured the contents of the first vial down her throat.

The contents of the second vial Hermione swallowed almost voluntarily. The contents of the third were welcomed, and when Professor Snape saw the light of intelligence come back into her eyes, he sighed quietly, his shoulders relaxing visibly as he cancelled the spell.

With her brain back in control, Hermione was able to process what had happened. Draco had rejected her again. She sniffled, not wanting to look the fool in front of the stoic wizard who was watching her cautiously.

"If you have any pertinent questions, Miss Granger, I might be of some assistance," Professor Snape offered quietly, reluctantly sitting in a wooden chair by the bed.

"He rejected me again." It wasn't a question, but it was all she could think of.

Professor Snape sighed. "He feels trapped."

"But we're mates!" Hermione said quietly, trying not to exasperate the professor.

"Indeed. Still, that is what he feels. I believe that he is actually trying to 'save' you," the Professor said. The way he sneered at the end made it clear what he thought of Draco's strategy.

Hermione looked at him blankly for a few moments, then nodded, smoothing out the layers of the beautiful robes Draco had bought her.

"If that is all, I will escort you to your dormitory. You will take these vials with you in the event that the effects of the venom flare up again."

Hermione nodded standing up from the bed onto bare feet. She looked down at the cold stones where she stood. "My slippers?"

"Your Head of House brought them. They are at the end of the bed." Professor Snape said, turning away to give her a moment of privacy. Then they walked to Gryffindor tower in silence, Professor Snape nodding curtly as she turned to walk through the portrait opening.

Now Hermione lay on her bed, crimson curtains drawn, with the kitten he'd given her playing on a tassel on one of her pillows. Her mind was empty, thrilling at the sensation when her fingers tickled over his claw marks. He could avoid it all he liked, but Draco Malfoy was a magical creature and the fates had bonded him to her. All she had to do now was sit back and wait for him to come for her.