The Moody Veela Chronicles
Disclaimer: Nothing you recognize is mine as HP doesn't belong to me.
Nestled deep within the stacks of the Hogwarts library, Hermione ran her finger along the spines of books as she sought out a volume she needed for her Potions essay. Then a shiver ran down her back as she got the feeling that someone was watching her discreetly. Again.
She rolled her eyes. Of course he had to make an appearance just as she had finally located the book she wanted. He had always been an annoyance to her and there was no reason for him to stop now. She stood patiently as she mentally counted to ten, waiting for her watcher to make a move. Which of course he didn't. He never did.
Hermione had quite enough of this nonsense. She whirled around and glared at the shadows she knew he was hiding in. She stared intensely for a moment, catching a brief glimpse of the silver hair that always gave him away. It was foolish, really. "Stop that," she said irritably. "I know you're there, so there's no point in trying to hide."
She huffed indignantly. "Honestly! Who do you think you're trying to fool? Not me, I hope. There are reasons why I'm known as the cleverest witch in our year. If you think that I haven't noticed that you've been all but stalking me…well, let's just say I thought you were more intelligent than that, Malfoy."
He skulked out of the shadows he had been trying to hide in, sulking all the way. "I haven't been stalking you, Granger," he groused. "You just happen to be where ever I go."
"Convenient that. And here I thought you had memorized my schedule." Malfoy turned paler than usual, confirming her suspicions. "I thought so," she muttered. "All right then. Isn't there something you need to tell me?" She crossed her arms and tapped her foot impatiently.
Malfoy lowered his head and refused to meet her gaze. "No," he said stubbornly.
"Are you positive about that? I haven't got all night, you know."
His lips quirked up into a small grin. "No you don't. You've got that Potions essay to work on, don't you?"
"Funny how you seem to know all about that," she shot back.
"Can't help it. You've been whining about it all day to the wonder twins."
"Oh! So you noticed how I arranged for them to leave me alone this evening? You can thank me for that later. Right after you finish making your confession to me."
His head snapped up. "Excuse me?" he said. "I've nothing to confess to. I've done nothing wrong. Last I checked the library was open to all Hogwarts students." Sarcasm practically dripped off of his every word.
"Oh really?" She tapped one finger against her chin. "And here I thought you might finally own up to the fact that you're part veela." She was gratified to see his jaw hit the floor. "But I guess if you're not even ready to tell me that much, you weren't even thinking about possibly telling me how I'm your mate and all."
It was really quite amusing how Malfoy stumbled backwards out of pure shock. "What the…how could you…who told you!" he demanded in a thundering voice.
"Considering that we're in the library, you might want to think about keeping your voice down," Hermione told him.
He sneered at her suggestion. "We're too far away for Pince or anyone else to hear us," he stated. "And you haven't answered my question. Who told you? Because when I get my hands on—"
She rolled her eyes again. "Please. No one told me. Have you forgotten who you're talking to? I'm the only one who figured out on her own back in third year that Professor Lupin was a werewolf. And you've shown all the classical signs of being a part veela."
She started ticking them off on her fingers. "First off, there's your coloring. Silver hair and eyes? That's a dead giveaway. Then there's your attractiveness to the other sex. I suppose you're not homely." She stopped to glance over at him and then amended that statement. "In fact, I can see why witches might find you handsome. But that in itself doesn't explain how so many witches fall all over themselves to be near you seeing how you're just a nasty, foul-mouthed ferret at heart. That could only be due to your veela charms."
"Ever consider that they're after my fortune?" he asked.
She snorted. "That might explain Parkinson—with an emphasis on the might as I really don't think that she's that shallow—but it certainly doesn't explain the rest of the witches who hang on your every word." She shook her head from side to side. "No, I'm afraid that when you tally up everything, the only explanation that makes sense is that you're part veela."
She ignored his protests and went on. "So after reaching that conclusion, it was very easy to figure out just why you have been following me around. I'm your mate, obviously, and you can't help yourself. Some might call that charming." She wrinkled her nose. She wouldn't be one of those fools. "It's kind of tiresome actually to always have someone trailing after you. Again I know you can't help yourself. You've probably imprinted on me ever since I slapped you back in third year. Trust me, if I had known then what I know now, I wouldn't have ever done that."
"It wouldn't have made a difference," he muttered.
Something about his tone of voice made her take a closer look at him. He was scowling—handsomely of course in a way designed to set the typical maiden's heart aflutter. She wasn't the typical maiden, however, so instead she acknowledged the truth of his statement. "No, it wouldn't have. You still would have been obsessed with me. From what I understand, nothing could have prevented that. It's too bad really."
"It is, isn't it?" he drawled. "Now if you'll excuse me…."
"No, I won't. Where do you think you're going?"
"Back to my room. You do want me to leave you in peace, don't you?" A glint of hope shimmered in his eyes. "Don't tell me that my veela charms are finally working on you?" he asked breathlessly, taking a step towards her.
"Don't be ridiculous. Of course not. I'm not as easily influenced as the sillier witches of your acquaintance."
His shoulders slumped at her response. "I can't say that I'm surprised. I'd best be going then. It's not like there's anything else for us to discuss."
She sniffed haughtily. "I beg to differ. We have plenty talk about."
He adopted a pain expression. "No, we don't. I already know how this is going to go, Granger. Yes you're my mate, but that doesn't mean that you like me much. In fact, I pretty much disgust you, don't I? That's why you couldn't wait to reject me," he finished bitterly.
"Who ever said anything about rejecting you?"
It was Malfoy's turn to snort. "Please. As if you would do anything else after the way I've teased and taunted you throughout the years." His lower lip jutted out into a pout, and his whole demeanor was one of dejection. Hermione had to fight the urge to roll her eyes at the six-feet plus of moody veela she had in front of her. Brooding certainly suited Malfoy, but it also reminded her how unsuitable he was for her.
She really didn't need that much drama in her life.
Hermione sighed and edged closer to Malfoy. "Yes, you were a right git to me and my friends. But I'm not going to hold that against you." She reached out to grasp one of his hands in hers. She patted it comfortingly. "I know you couldn't help yourself. You had to get my attention some way, and that was the only way you knew."
However, instead of soothing him as she had intended, Malfoy only became more distressed. He scrunched his eyes closed. "This is only a dream. It has to be a dream. This can't be happening. It just can't be," he mumbled himself. He opened his eyes and looked down to see Hermione still holding his hand. "Can this be real?" he asked softly.
Hermione got the sense that scolding him wouldn't help matters. "Of course this is real," she said gently. She dropped his hand. Standing on her tiptoes, she reached out to cup his left cheek with her right hand. "Honestly! Did you truly believe that I was going to reject you and let you die of a broken heart?"
The fear in his eyes was the only answer she needed. She shook her head from side to side and crossed her arms once more. "You really don't know me, do you? I'm not that sort of witch. I'm not that cold-hearted or cruel. You might not be the wizard of my dreams, but somehow I'll make do."
In an instant, his attitude changed completely. "Not the wizard of you dreams?" he scoffed. He preened like the peacock he was. "Don't kid yourself, Granger. What's not about me to love?"
"You mean aside from the fact that you're an arrogant, self-centered coward?" she asked.
He glowered at her. "So I may be a little proud, but I have reason to be." He then adopted a wounded look. "And how can you call me selfish when all I want is for you to be happy?"
She raised an eyebrow. "Because you're happy when I'm happy?" She clucked her tongue. "Not that you know how to make me happy."
"Oh I assure you, Granger, I know how to make you happy." He waggled his eyebrows in an obscene manner at her. "I know how to make you very happy."
She swatted at his arm. "Not like that," she huffed. "There'll be none of that until after we're done with our schooling. Besides that's more like keeping your own self happy and satisfied."
"Don't worry, Granger, you'll be satisfied too. Or should I say satiated?" He looked down at her, taking advantage of the difference in their heights to leer at her breasts.
"Argh! This is exactly what I mean about you not being the man of my dreams! Honestly! As though I'd dream about having a hulking, possessive Neanderthal like you for a mate." She tossed her hair about.
He coughed. "That doesn't exactly explain Krum, now does it?" he remarked snarkily.
"Good point." She beamed at him. He took a step back, not liking the look in her eyes.
"Yes?" she answered absent-mindedly.
He gulped nervously. "What are you thinking?"
If anything that only made her smile even brighter. Malfoy wasn't the wizard she would have chosen for herself. He was far too high strung and far too high maintenance for her liking. However he was genuinely intelligent, and that meant he could be taught.
"Do you really want to know?" she asked archly. At his nod, she bounced over to him. "I was thinking how best to train you to make you into a better wizard." She cocked her head. "There's your veela traits of course. Veela are infamous for being jealous, and my best friends are wizards. I can't be having you attack them just for being friendly. I suppose we'll start there. We'll work on the rest of your bad habits later."
"Come on. Let's go." She tugged at his arm. If she had to, she would drag him over to Gryffindor Tower. A cunning smile played on her lips as she thought of all the fun she would have in dealing with her moody veela.
Author's note: This is a product of me reading far too many veela fics. It's a little silly--all right, a lot silly--but I thought it might be interesting to have Hermione accept the fact that she's Draco's mate straight away and proceed on to dealing with the situation. She just seems too sensible a character to me to spend too much time fighting what she can't change. If I ever get around to writing the next chapter, she will attempt to rein in Draco's natural possessiveness using Ron as a convenient smash test dummy. :D Doesn't that sound like fun? Reviews would be lovely as I'd love to know what you think. :D