Story contains mature content unsuitable for young readers. Story also contains Consensual Infidelity, Infidelity, Strong Language and Verbal Abuse.
Dramione fic with secondary pairings of Hermione/Lucius and Draco/Astoria.
For all appearances, Draco Malfoy only looked a little tense as he observed the petite brunette witch seated across him at the dinner table of his family home, Malfoy Manor. On the inside, he was raging. There would be no more escaping the suffocating presence of the queen of Mudbloods, Hermione Granger, or more accurately as of today, Hermione Malfoy.
He glared at the person responsible for orchestrating this travesty- Lucius Malfoy. Now, at age twenty-three, his father's decisions would once more have a devastating impact on his life. Draco struggled to fight back the bitterness he bore towards his sire. Wasn't this the same man who had indoctrinated into him the Pureblood ideologies? Yet, now, he thought filth was good enough to be a part of one the wizarding world's most prestigious families?
The meal progressed and everyone else continued with their polite conversations, unaware this was probably the beginning of the end of the life he had carefully orchestrated for himself over the past six years. It was suddenly all too much for Draco. Standing abruptly, he made his excuses and, before anyone could so much as acknowledge him, rudely rushed out.
As Draco ran towards the nearest floo, desperate in the moment to put as much distance as possible between him and Granger, a single thought ran on a loop through his head: Why had the fates cursed him by making the most disagreeable and in every way unsuitable person in the world his mate?
Hermione friggin Granger, Gryffindor's princess and the most frigid of swots. He always suspected there was something to the way she got under his skin and riled him up which went beyond house rivalries and blood purity.
Theo once foolishly suggested that he secretly pined for Granger and was putting on an act to hide his true feelings. Theodore Nott, his childhood friend, would have certainly thumped him on the back with a smug 'told you so' had he lived long enough to discover Granger was his mate. He paused momentarily his restless pacing to squeeze his eyes shut and push back the hurt he felt any time he remembered someone he lost in the war.
Of course, no one who had peeked into young Draco's mind would ever suspect him of harbouring any kind of tendre for the bossy witch. Everything about her- from her dull looks to the desperate-for-approval hand raising in class, from her carefree smiles to her swotty mannerisms, from the way she was always prancing around with Potty and the Weasel while disdainfully sniffing at him- everything about her aggravated him. There had been times he found himself objecting to her simply breathing in the same air as him. He was not just being dramatic when he had wished her dead in second year, he found her so infuriating.
Then, just before his sixteenth birthday, his mother had drawn him aside and informed him about his Black inheritance. He expected to hear about some forgotten vault in Gringots, instead what she shared helped him finally understand the nature of his impulse to engage Granger in verbal spats even though he couldn't stand the sight of her.
Naturally, he did not take kindly to the knowledge he wasn't as pure as he had been led to believe all his life. He almost dismissed it as a prank on his mother's part- except he'd never known her to engage in such juvenile behaviour. Initially incredulous over the idea he was anything but pure, he quickly grew angry at the hypocrisy of everything he was raised to accept as true.
Astonishingly, it wasn't the Malfoy line that carried the Veela blood as many had suspected over the centuries due to their distinctly pale colouring, so like full-blooded Veelas.
Toujours pur, my arse.
Turned out the Noble House of Black wasn't so noble after all as one of the ancestors had bred with a Veela over a century ago. As a result, members of the Black family got to enjoy some of the Veela traits, even if they didn't turn into harpies with talons, beaks and wings like the typical Veela.
"So I won't turn into a bloody bird, but it still means I'm not pure!" he raged at his mother. "I'm no better than the Mudbloods and Halfbloods you and father taught me to look down upon!"
"No! You are the last living heir of two of the oldest and purest magical families. Do not compare yourself to the scum of our society-"
Never before had he seen his mother, the Ice Queen, look so angry or distressed over anything he had ever said to her.
"-Having the blood of a magical creature like a Veela is not the same as having muddy blood run in your veins. You were born with magic. Unlike the Muggles, you didn't need to steal it from some innocent child, making them a squib, just so you could wield a wand."
It was one thing to know Veela-Wizard matings were a common occurrence in their society and quite another to accept it as part of one's own heritage. It took a while, but he eventually cooled down and accepted the truth of his mother's words. Nevertheless, it rankled. All his life he had thought of himself as pure, to then discover he also had creature blood, was shattering.
"I can see you'll need time to adjust to this. I should've told you sooner, but I was so worried about upsetting you I kept putting off telling you."
"So why tell me now?"
"Well, I couldn't delay it any longer. You're turning sixteen next week and I wanted you to have some time to prepare."
"Why? What happens when I turn sixteen?"
The grim expression on his mother's face worried him. She patted at the empty space beside her and invited him to sit. He preferred to pace when dealing with bad news but could tell from the tension in his mother's posture she would not continue until he complied with her unspoken command.
He settled himself next to her with a sigh.
"Sixteen is considered to be the start of adolescence for Veelas. So, the day you turn sixteen your body will be seized by a fever and you will begin to transform-"
"Transform?! I thought you said I wouldn't turn into a bird!"
With a firm shake of her head, she attempted to reassure him.
"No, you won't transform in that way. You will grow more attractive to everyone around you. You will grow taller and stronger, with heightened vision and hearing. Your spell casting will also improve in both strength and accuracy."
Draco nodded along. So far, everything about this Veela business had sounded great; he couldn't see why his mother looked so concern.
"The fruits of the Transformation are sweet indeed, but the process is a particularly painful one. Even though you are only part Veela your body will mimic the Transformation process of a full Veela. Once the fever takes hold, you will feel like every bone in your body is breaking and rearranging itself to accommodate the growth spurt you will undergo. The skin on your back will itch as if you have wings there just waiting to burst out. Your fingernails will feel like talons- you'll end up clawing at everything around you to test their strength- and your gums will hurt with the phantom pain of fangs you do not possess. The fever may last for as long as a week, throughout which you'll feel like you're dying or at least wish you were."
Draco winced at the mention of pain. As the only child of an extremely wealthy family, he was spoiled rotten by his parents; he was never given any opportunity to develop a tolerance for suffering of any kind. He supposed he could endure the pain if it meant gaining a more attractive body in exchange.
Not like I have a choice either way.
Although he would never admit it out loud, he was rather embarrassed by his scrawny built and how little he'd grown since his first year at school. He was shorter than all the boys and half the girls. Even Granger stood at eye level with him, which meant he had to tilt his head up in order to look down his nose at her. It was hard to look menacing when you were the littlest in a group. Not that he didn't manage, mind you, he was a Malfoy after all. Still, it would nice not to have to strain his neck to look down on others.
He also liked the idea of witches throwing themselves at him because they found him attractive; not because they found the Malfoy galleons irresistible. Thus far, the only witch to allow him as much as a snog- and some over the clothes petting- was Pansy Parkinson; and that was only because she was expecting to be Lady Malfoy someday, otherwise he could tell from her fake smiles and faker moans she wasn't into him at all.
Surprisingly, the only witch, not family, ever to touch him of her own accord was the Mudblood when she punched him in third year. At the time he'd been outraged she'd dared to put her filthy hands on his person, but over the years he'd developed some rather confusing reactions to the thought of her willingly touching him. Yet another thing he was too ashamed of to dwell on properly.
For a brief moment, he felt gratitude towards the Black ancestor responsible for making possible the Veela traits about to be bestowed upon him. That was until his mother explained about Veela and their mates.
"What do mean just one witch for life?" he demanded of his mother.
She simply raised an eyebrow at his outburst, reminding him whom he was addressing. Being more than just some insipid society wife, Narcissa Malfoy had raised her son to be respectful of witches and see them as his equal and partners, not playthings there for his amusement the way his friends were taught to think. Of course, Mudbloods were the exception since they weren't real witches.
Feeling admonished by her look alone, he took a more diplomatic approach.
"I mean, why do I have to stay stuck with some witch I didn't even choose for myself?"
His mother tilted her head and pressed her lips tightly together. After some moments of silent contemplation, she slowly explained, "Your mate is someone the fates created as the one person perfectly suited to you. Therefore, your happiness is assured with this person. When you consummate your bond with your mate you will feel so content, you will not want to consider seeking anyone else."
"Does this mean that I could seek someone else if I wanted to?"
"Since you're not a full Veela, I suppose it is possible - But, it doesn't matter, as you will lose interest in anyone else once you've claimed your mate."
"...and I claim my mate simply by having sex with them?"
She shook her head.
"That's only a part of it. Both, you and your mate need to truly accept and acknowledge each other publically as mates. The Black family changed their marriage rituals a few generations ago to include a simple handfasting ceremony where the couple publically claim each other as soul mates. This way the Veela bond is completed without anyone being wiser of the Blacks secret heritage."
Watching the smirk plastered on her face as she explained how her family had hoodwinked the wizarding population for close to a century, for the first time he wondered if he had inherited that particular facial quirk from his mother rather than his father as he'd always believed.
"Do I have to bond with this supposed mate?"
"You don't have to, but you will want to."
"What do you mean?"
"I can't explain it. You will know when you feel the pull. Your mate will be the focus of your life, second only to any children you may have."
"So if I don't claim my mate, nothing bad will happen to me like it does in those romance novels Mrs Parkinson and Pansy enjoy reading so much?"
As he had understood from Pansy's rather dreamy narrations- which he had to put up with as her boyfriend- the stories usually involved the Veela finding their mate and fucking them senseless or risk dying. He was sure his mother wouldn't appreciate that particular phrasing.
His mother's hand flew in front of her face to hide her smile. "No, you won't die. Neither will your mate." The tone of her voice then changed to a more serious one. "You will be okay if you don't claim your mate. Both of you will go through life always feeling like something is missing, but you will live."
Unsatisfied with his mother's answers, he had consulted with some of the Black family portraits during his holidays. He discovered there was a lot his mother had not told him, either too embarrassed to discuss sex with her teenage son or maybe because she could not imagine Draco having cause not to claim his mate.
"So how will I know who this mate is?"
"You will see her face in a dream when you complete your Transformation next week. But you may already have an idea who it is."
Sure, they were seeing each other and the Parkinson family name was only second to the Malfoys. He could not think of anyone else quite as suitable. Plus, he thought Pansy was quite fit even if he did agree with the Gryffindors about her being a bit pug-faced. All things considered, being with her would be no hardship even if she was with him only for his family name.
"Your mate will be someone you cannot ignore, no matter what. You'll always pay attention to them when they're around and think of them when they aren't."
Not Pansy then.
He could easily tune her out whenever she went on about the trashy novels she read or the shopping she was looking forward to. He also couldn't stand her when she played the pure princess around him, even though everyone knew she'd let that brute Marcus Flint finger her after Slytherin won the match against Ravenclaw.
Had he really cared about Pansy, it would've hurt something other than just his pride when Marcus had shown up in the common room looking rather smug as he held out his finger for Draco to sniff so the Malfoy heir could know what his girlfriend's cum smelled like.
He had merely raised an eyebrow at Flint and then resumed his conversation with Theo as if nothing of consequence had occurred. As it was though, he was biding his time; when they left Hogwarts, he would show Flint how difficult things could get for a wizard of his lowly station when one earned the displeasure of a Malfoy.
Where Pansy was concerned, he had suspected all along that she was getting her itch scratched elsewhere since she never came to him. As much as he would've liked to dump her as his girlfriend, she was the only suitable witch available who had shown any interest in him at all. He had no choice but to put up with her, waiting for the moment she finally spread her legs for him.
Now that he knew it couldn't be Pansy, Draco did a mental rundown of all the witches who could potentially be his mate. As he quickly eliminated one witch after the other, he began to panic when it started to dawn on him just who the witch might be.
His mother noticed his expression but fortunately mistook it.
"Oh Draco! Did you and Pansy have a falling out? Is she seeing someone else? What is it?"
Not wanting to be caught lying or share his suspicions of who his mate might be, he remained silent with his eyes cast down, letting his mother draw whatever conclusions she liked.
"You know, your mate will find it hard to ignore you too, and she'll never truly be happy with any other wizard. Even if she marries someone else and has children with him, she will always feel incomplete unless she bonds with you. The same goes for you."
Unlike full Veelas, he wouldn't die without his mate- from the sound of it, he would barely even experience any discomfort.
"So how will I go about initiating the bond with my mate?"
He asked because the last thing he needed was to accidentally bond with an undesirable witch for life.
"Oh, don't worry about that, when you give in to the pull you feel towards your mate, your Veela instincts will guide you."
From the way his mother blushed, he had assumed some kind of kinky sex act was involved. His mother had not bothered to explain about the mating heat that took hold of Veelas every month once the bond was triggered between mates. She certainly did not speak of the consequences of ignoring the bond or delaying consummation once it was initiated, and she most definitely never gave him any reason to suspect that all it would take was a kiss for him to end up tethering on the edge of his sanity.
AN: While this story may have great potential for drama and angst, I've tried to keep it light, lemony and Dramione-centric (if that's not your thing, you won't enjoy this fic).