A/N: Figured I'd better put you out of your misery after last week's cliffhanger. Teehee. Thanks ever so much to all of you who take the time to review. Your reactions to the story amuse me to no end. You're such gems! Can't wait to see how you yell at me for this chapter.

xx-Kitten.


Addicted to You

By Kittenshift17


Chapter 13


"Wh-what?" Hermione stammered, her brow furrowing as she looked into his face.

Draco felt his lips twitch toward a smile despite the wretch burn of the silver so close to his heart, stabbed into his chest and buried to the hilt.

"You missed my heart," he told her quietly, his nose twitching as he breathed in her sweet scent. He could hear her erratic heartbeat as it danced in her chest, soothing him with its closeness, no matter the uneven tempo.

"I…" she frowned as though she were confused before jerking the sharp dagger from his chest. The blade was stained red with his blood, but he barely noticed because right at that moment, she dropped the knife.

Just as her wand had done, the dagger clattered to the stone floor of the stairs about their feet, leaving her defenceless in his clutches. His wolf was howling in fury that his mate had dared to stab him and almost kill him, but the man in him could recognise why she'd done it. He was strangely pleased that she'd missed, though.

"But I…" she tried again, tears streaming down her face though she seemed unaware of them.

Overcome with emotion, she surprised him when she drew in a ragged breath and began to sob as she lifted trembling hands to press them against the wound she'd inflicted upon him. She didn't even flinch at the horror of getting his blood on her hands as she pressed them to the front of his rapidly darkening shirt where the blood began to stain it crimson. She pushed at his chest as though her will alone might heal the terrible stab-wound she'd inflicted upon him and Draco felt a surge of an emotion he couldn't even begin to name as he shook his head at the conflicted little witch that Fate had dictated was his for life.

When the blood didn't slow, she began to cry softly, though Draco could feel his body trying to knit itself back together already. Granger laid her forehead against the middle of his chest and Draco blinked, his wolf slowly ceasing the growling to finally have his mate so close and so ready to submit. Loosening his tight hold on the witch, Draco let his fingers trail around her back until he had his arms curled around her protectively, holding her while she cried.

He couldn't have explained it, had any of his friends walked in right at that moment. The bitch had stabbed him. He should be furious with her. He should be plotting ways to make her pay for daring to harm him – for preferring the idea of seeing him dead than having to suffer through being tied to him for the rest of their lives. After the way he'd been behaving up until now every time he was anywhere near her, he ought to be shoving her against the wall and hard fucking her until he couldn't walk, but there was something so sweet in her surrender that he simply held her and savoured it.

She clenched fistfuls of his shirt as she cried into his chest and Draco smoothed his hands up and down her back, marvelling at the warmth and the softness of her petite form. She trembled as she cried, and he knew she was at her weakest. She probably couldn't believe she'd actually stabbed him, and from the way she currently smelled, he was thinking she'd probably never been so relieved to be able to take something back and admit her mistake. Draco couldn't really believe she'd done it. He'd known that she was brave, and he'd known that she hated him, but the little bitch had stabbed him. She'd looked him in the eye and dug a knife into his flesh intending to kill him.

She'd failed to do so, and clearly wanted to take it back, but she'd tried, and he couldn't believe the little bitch had the guts. He couldn't believe she was so heartless. She could've killed him! Merlin's little green apples, she'd been trying to kill him. An inch or so to the left and she'd have succeeded and pierced his heart. As a werewolf, he could heal from a stab wound, even when it had been caused by a silver blade, but silver directly to the heart would kill him.

Before he could offer an opinion on the matter as she cried into his chest, probably getting blood all over herself, too, a sound caught his ear and Draco turned his head. A growl worked its way up his throat when he laid eyes of someone standing inside the passage with them. There, at the top of the stairs having just pried open the portrait guarding the entrance to the secret passage was a messy haired, wide-eyed, gaping git.

Potter.

"Hermione?" he asked, sounding horrified at the sight of his best friend in the arms of his enemy.

Draco snarled ferociously, and Granger squeaked in his arms, lifting her head and turning to stare at Potter in horror.

"Harry?" she asked, her voice thick with the tears she'd shed. "Oh, no. Harry, you need to go."

"What are you doing in here with Malfoy?" Potter asked, too thick or too bloody nosey to run for his life as though it wouldn't soon be snuffed out between Draco's fangs.

"Harry, please," she whispered, and Draco felt her loop her arms around his waist, attempting to anchor him to her, preventing him from springing at Potter and opening his throat like his wolf so desperately wanted to do. "Please leave. I promise I'll explain everything soon, but you are in danger here?"

"From what? Malfoy?" Harry scoffed, and Draco took a menacing step toward the git, his nails lengthening and darkening to the claws of the wolf. He could feel his teeth sharpening inside his mouth and his vision shifted to that of the wolf.

Potter recoiled, his eyes widening behind his glasses.

"You're a…." he began, his voice laced with utter shock. Draco wasn't surprised. The git had suspected all year that he'd become a Death Eater. It hadn't crossed his mind for a single moment that maybe his erratic behaviour were the result of lycanthropy.

"Harry, leave," Granger whispered, clinging to Draco now.

"You knew he was a werewolf?" Potter asked, and Draco began to realise why it was that the sod usually ended up in such hot water facing off against dangerous magical creatures. It was like he had no sense of self-preservation.

"Not until today. Not for certain."

Draco snarled at Potter, taking another step in his direction, dragging Granger with him. The witch clung to his chest, her arms wrapped tightly around his lithe frame and her heart racing in her chest. He could feel it hammering against her ribs and he knew she was scared for her friend.

"What's that got to do with you?" Potter asked. "Why are you hugging him?"

"She's not hugging me, Potter," Draco warned coldly. "She's trying to restrain me so I don't rip your throat out."

Potter took a step back in shock. "It's not a full moon," he frowned. "Is that… blood?"

He eyed the two of them critically, spying the blood staining both of them.

"Harry, you really need to leave," Hermione warned. "I just stabbed him and he's unstable."

"You stabbed him?" Potter asked. "Blimey, Hermione!"

Draco snarled, lunging at Potter and dragging the witch with him.

"Don't, Malfoy," she begged. "Please don't hurt him."

Draco snarled.

"He hurt you," he said.

"He didn't," Hermine shook her head. "I'm fine. The duel was just a bit of fun. Harry, for the love of Merlin, get out! Before he kills you."

"He's not going to kill me," Potter said. "You stabbed him. If anyone's in danger, it's you."

Draco snarled even more ferociously, his wolf furious at the suggestion that he might actually, intentionally hurt his mate, even if she had stabbed him.

"Believe me, Harry, I'm the only person safe in his company," Hermione said. "I'm… I'm his mate, Harry."

Potter's eyes widened.

"I really hope you mean 'mate' the way I'd call Ron or Neville a mate, Hermione," Potter said, eyeing her like she'd gone mad.

"No," the witch shook her head. "I mean wolf-mate. Soulmate. Whatever you want to call it. Gods, you need to leave, Harry. I can't hold him for much longer, and I can only think of one other way to distract him from slashing you to ribbons."

Potter made a face.

Draco froze when the little witch gripped him even tighter and rolled her hips against the part of him that had been so eager to make her acquaintance.

"Hermione, no!" Potter said when he realised what she meant.

"Hermione, yes!" Draco drawled quietly in retort and Granger's cheeks bloomed crimson.

"Harry, leave," she demanded quietly, her eyes darting to her friend before she looked up and met Draco's gaze, apparently unnerved by his use of her first name and uncertain if she wanted to have to distract him in such a way.

Draco couldn't resist lunging at Potter again, just to push the issue. Potter opened his mouth, stepping back again.

"Blimey, Hermione," he muttered. "You weren't kidding that I'd be upset about it."

"Go be upset about it in the common room," Granger commanded and Draco hands on the witch tightened when she turned her face from her friend, burying her lips against his neck and making his whole body thrum with desire when she nipped him just hard enough to smart.

Draco barely heard the sound of Potter's footsteps as he departed over the triumphant howl ringing inside his head when his mate rolled her hips suggestively again. His hands tightened reflexively upon her, his fangs and claws receding as the threat disappeared, his fury replaced with raging desire so intense, it took his breath away. When she tipped her head up to meet his gaze, he could see the resignation and the resolve in her eyes and he knew that if he ever wanted to claim her as his mate without having to force the issue, now was his chance.

He watched her lick her lips nervously, her breath coming in shallow pants, whether from fear, nerves, or desire, Draco couldn't quite tell. He mimicked her, licking his own lips as he slowly leaned toward her, his eyes darting between both of hers, looking for some sign that she was going to continue to fight, or that it was a trap to distract him to save her friend. He looked for some sign that she was going to back out, but for all her hesitation and her obvious unhappiness, he saw no malicious intent.

She was really going to let him claim her. Draco knew it was for the best. One quick shag, a bite, and then they could go on with things as though they weren't bonded for life. He was sure that he'd have a better handle on this mess just as soon as he didn't have to fight his own instincts to claim her every other second. Lowering his lips until they were a hairsbreadth from hers, Draco searched her face, wondering if she was going to chicken out, or even try to stab him again.

She didn't. She simply tipped her head up and waited. Just before he could close the distance between them and claim the kiss he so desperately wanted, she whispered;

"Be gentle… I've never done this before."