Draco Malfoy || Post-War 

Just wanted to share some art by one of my favorite Dramione creators: upthehillart 

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"Malfoy, what in the world?" 

The normally aristocratic wizard froze with his hands still in his hair from where he'd nearly been ripping it out in frustration. He'd been pacing and mumbling to himself, clearly growing more and more panicked by the second. It might look comical had it not been Malfoy. Or perhaps that made it all the more amusing. Slowly dropping his arms, he turned to face her, unable to hide his embarrassment. 

"Granger." 

"Are you okay?" Hermione asked worriedly, taking a step forward. 

Malfoy took a noticeably abrupt step back. "Fine! Why in the world wouldn't I be?" 

Hermione bristled at his prideful tone that dared her to breach his private little bubble. He stared at her stubbornly with his arms crossed defensively across his chest. She stared at him incredulously. Was he bloody serious? 

It was the third annual ball commemorating the end of the war, and it had been a busy night. Not only had she come alone tonight, but it was also the first event since her breakup with Ron that he'd brought a date to a public event. Their split had been amicable and happened sometime during her repeated eighth year at Hogwarts. Ron had gone off to auror training alongside Harry, and their time apart had shown them they simply wanted different things. And now that the regular life-threatening and world-ending scenarios had come to an end, Ron and Hermione wanted different things from their partner than what the other could offer them. Still, it was the first time Ron had brought someone to a public event. The tall ginger wizard had grown a long way since his Lavendar days and stopped using attention childishly. He had a gorgeous brunette on his arm tonight, and she'd been charming. Hermione couldn't think of a single bad thing to say, and neither could Harry or Ginny. She was beautiful, affectionate, and even intelligent enough to keep up with Hermione in conversation. 

It's not that she was jealous- not at all. She was delighted that Ron had found someone he both wanted and deserved, especially since she wasn't an airhead. But the night was busy, and Hermione slipped out two hours into the ball to get some air. 

When she first noticed Malfoy, she thought she was seeing things. She hadn't seen much of him after the war. He finished his schooling through correspondence as Draco and his mother were left to pick up the pieces of their family after the war. Everyone was surprised when he reemerged from the depths of Malfoy Manor nearly a year later. It was around the same time Harry quit being an auror. He'd realized very quickly that he was done fighting Dark Wizards, and he couldn't let it consume the rest of his life like it'd consumed his childhood. With no shortage of offers, he decided to follow his childhood passions for quidditch. He said it was the only other thing he was good at, but Hermione knew he felt closer to his dad whenever he played. Ron, to everyone's contrite surprise, stayed at the ministry and received a promotion. He might've never been able to out-duel Harry, which was partially why everyone labeled him the sidekick. But in an organized team like the aurors, his strategy skills shone through.  He wouldn't let anyone hear the end of it when Malfoy first joined the aurors as a new trainee. No matter how much Ron matured, some childhood grudges were hard to leave behind. 

Hermione and Harry were baffled as to how Malfoy even managed to get a position with the aurors. His family name held little to no power anymore, and it's not like he had daddy's connections helping him along anymore. To their surprise, Ron said it was a recommendation from McGonagall that finally pushed them to accept him. Apparently, his NEWTs scores were remarkable, and outside his character reference, he met the qualifications of being an auror with shining stars. How Malfoy managed to get a recommendation from Hermione's favorite professor? None of them ever found out. Over time, Malfoy's presence in the background of their lives became normal. She'd seen him among the crowd of guests tonight and thought nothing of it. He was, after all, one of the brightest aurors to come out of the department. It was only natural that he be at a ministry ball. 

But then she saw him outside, panicked and pacing, looking as he did. She nearly tripped over her own heels when she caught sight of him. 

"Why wouldn't you be-" Hermione nearly choked in indignation. Was he pulling her leg? "I don't know Malfoy, it might have something to do with the bloody wings that sprouted from your back!" 

She could swear he very nearly blushed before locking his features down into a cool mask with a precision she envied. 

"Mind your own business, Granger," he growled defensively. 

Hermione's eyebrows furrowed. They would never be friends or anything, but she'd thought they could at least be civil given his new career path of public service. Clearly not. She opened her mouth to retort hotly when he just turned and disapparated on the spot. 

How rude. 

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-- 6 MONTHS LATER

It had been nearly half a year since she'd last seen him. Hermione never told anyone what happened that night. She could never figure out what to say. Did you know Malfoy has ginormous bloody wings like some sort of fallen angel? They'd think she was crazy!   

But she was more than a little shocked to learn the very next day that he resigned from the aurors. As one of the best wizards in their department, it seemed completely out of the left-field that he resigned so suddenly. 

To Hermione's surprise, Ron was the one who complained the most about it. 

At least he was competent! He'd defended against all their confused questions.   

And six months later, the three old friends were catching up over lunch at Diagon Alley. Harry only had a short lunch break from practice since it was quidditch season and things were busy. Ron had a bit of a lull in how workload, which reassured the rest of the world that Dark Wizards were temporarily inactive or taking a break. Hermione was a private researcher and consultant, which left her schedule pretty flexible. 

"Sorry guys," Harry said in a rush as he gathered up his stuff. "Let's have a night out once my season's over, yeah?" 

"Don't worry about it," Hermione said fondly. 

"You're still owling me tickets, right?" Ron called after him. 

Harry left in a rush, tripping into the floo as quickly as he could. It was incredible how much they'd all changed since their school days, and Hermione would argue in the best ways. Harry finally stopped carrying the burden and guilt of everything that went wrong in the world, finally focusing on his own life and happiness. After letting go of the broodiness, he'd turned into a fun but empathetic young man. Ron had finally matured and become comfortable with his strengths and weaknesses. His temper was still formidable, but he didn't fly off the handle as easily. Hermione finally learned to prioritize her personal life and things beyond her commitment to bettering the world. It made her a much more easygoing witch than the one she was back during Hogwarts. 

"Ice cream at Fortescue's?" Ron offered. 

"Mmm... I could be convinced." 

Ron offered Hermione his arm, guiding her out of her chair. They walked out of the restaurant and into the busy streets of Diagon Alley with Hermione's hand tucked into Ron's arm. He was not dating anyone currently, and neither was she. But they'd long since learned that they were best as friends.

"Is that Malfoy?" Hermione asked curiously, tugging Ron's arm and gesturing down the street near George's shop. 

"It is," his eyes widened in surprise. "No one's seen him since he left the aurors!" 

"Why?" Hermione asked in confusion. "Don't you know what he's doing now?" 

"I mean, yeah. He said he was going to take over the Malfoy businesses. But no one's actually seen him have they?" 

"Are you suspicious of something?" Hermione asked curiously. 

"Nothing evil or anything. Even if he is a git, he was a good auror. I just didn't think he wanted to leave. He gave no indication he was ever planning to stop being an auror." 

Hermione shrugged. She'd avoided her lingering thoughts about Malfoy. It was particularly hard at first because of the mystery of his wings. She instinctively wanted to research until she found whatever logical explanation he'd avoided telling her. But then she remembered she shouldn't waste her time on such a rude wizard who clearly didn't think she was worth the time of day. 

"Oi, Malfoy!" Ron yelled, already pulling Hermione towards him. 

The blonde wizard turned to Ron but froze when he saw Hermione next. As they both approached, Malfoy stumbled back a few steps. To their utter shock, he then dropped to his knees, curling into himself in pain. 

"Malfoy!" 

Hermione and Ron ran the rest of the way up to him. The pedestrians around them began pausing in their own paths, stopping to glance at Malfoy in concern. 

When Hermione crouched to touch him on the shoulder, she both felt and heard a sick cracking sound. 

"Bloody hell," Ron whispered. 

Malfoy's chest was heaving with deep, labored breaths. But more importantly, he was shadowed by a magnificent pair of dark wings. In contrast to his brilliant platinum hair, his wings were a mixture of black and dark metallic greens and blues. 

"Are you okay?" She whispered, ready to remove her hand from his shoulder. 

Malfoy moved faster than she could see, and he captured her hand, keeping it in a vice-like hold. 

"Malfoy," she warned lowly. 

"Hermione..." Ron spoke up hesitantly, "I think we should get him inside." 

Hermione nodded, guiding Malfoy to his feet. When Ron went to his other side to help, Malfoy warned him off with a deep, rumbling growl. 

"What in the-" 

"Hermione, it's fine," Ron said in a clipped voice. "Let's just get him into the joke shop. We need to get him inside." 

Hermione was absolutely dumbfounded. Never did she think she'd see the day where Ron would not only allow Malfoy to growl at him but then turn around and defend him.   

Hermione helped Malfoy towards the shop. He winced with every movement, and she grimaced as she saw the back of his shirt and coat completely shredded from the emergence of his wings. Ron held the door open as Hermione led Malfoy into George's shop. 

George rushed out from behind the register. His look of surprise morphed into sheer horror as he took in the sight of Malfoy with his big wings. 

"Bloody hell! Is he-" 

"I think so," Ron said pointedly. 

Hermione looked between the two brothers in annoyance. Whatever was going on with Malfoy, they seemed to have some idea. Which meant she was the only one who didn't know. And she hated not knowing.  

"Get him to the backroom," George instructed them. 

This time Malfoy followed after Ron on his own, though his jaw was clenched shut. Hermione watched them go, turning to George with a piercing gaze. 

"What's going on?" 

"Ahhh," George chuckled, looking deeply uncomfortable. "I'm not sure..." 

"Don't give me that, George! Clearly, you know what's wrong with him." 

"I don't know details. It's not like I know Malfoy's situation!" George scratched his head uncertainly. Hermione stared at him unrelentingly. "Okay, okay! You must've heard fairy tales growing up, right? Ones about veelas?" 

Hermione frowned. "I didn't grow up with magical fairy tales." 

"Shit, right," George groaned. 

"Are you saying he's a veela?" 

"I think so," George winced. "Was he already transformed when you found him?" 

"No, he seemed fine before we went up to him. Then he nearly collapsed, and when I tried to check on him, his back just burst open!" 

George paled, and Hermione could swear he became even more uncomfortable than he already was. 

"What?" She inquired in confusion. 

"Um..." 

"WHAT?" 

"I think you should talk to Malfoy," George insisted firmly. 

"But you clearly know something!" 

"It's not my place to say," he shrugged. 

"Malfoy won't tell me anything. We're not on good terms. If it's something you would know from hearing about the situation, I must be able to find the answer with a bit of research." 

"No!" 

Hermione's face scrunched up in annoyance. She was about to retort when Ron returned from the back. 

"George is right, 'Mione. You should talk to him." Ron looked concerningly grave, which didn't reassure Hermione one bit. 

"I doubt he wants to talk to me," Hermione huffed, crossing her arms. "It's fine. It's none of my business anyway.

Hermione could only think of getting out of there. She was making for the shop's exit when both Weasley brothers quickly blocked her paths to the door. 

"You should really talk to him," George told her. 

"Why in the world do I need to talk to him? We're not friends, and he doesn't owe me any answers! Not that he'd talk to me anyway." 

"He will," Ron said firmly. "He has to." 

"What does that mean?" 

"Just-" Ron sighed, looking up at the ceiling in frustration. "Just please go and bloody talk to him." 

Grumbling the entire way, Hermione strode towards the back door. She knocked sharply on the closed door. She could faintly hear him say come in, though his voice sounded completely shot. She closed the door behind her and could see him pressed into the darkness of the shadows. He held himself upright and proud. All traces of pain were completely wiped away. 

"So you're a veela," she stated. 

Malfoy's grey eyes glinted through the darkness as they narrowed on her. "You know?" 

"Not really, George alluded to as much." 

When Malfoy stepped forward into the dim light, Hermione almost gasped. He looked ethereal. His disheveled hair now fell over his forehead, framing the intensity of stormy eyes. The dark feathered wings behind him dropped all the way to his ankles, and the sheer width of them made the wizard look much taller and bigger than he was. They shimmered in the light as he moved closer. 

"How much do you know about veelas?" 

"Honestly, not much," Hermione admitted. "I've mostly researched werewolves for my work with the ministry. But I do know they mate for life and are meant to be very appealing. To be honest, I didn't even know there were male veelas." 

"They're rare," Malfoy admitted. "You won't find much about us in your precious books." 

"Are you all that different from female veelas? And why did George mention fairytales? Is the truth actually similar to the stories?" Hermione could help her curiosity as the questions just burst forth. 

"We're not all that different," Malfoy shrugged. "And yes, there is some truth to the fairytales." 

"Okay..." Hermione stood awkwardly, wondering why she was here in the first place. "Well... I'm glad you're alright. I know you don't exactly owe me an explanation." 

When he continued to stare at her with his piercing gaze, she felt like she might've overstayed her brief welcome. 

"I should go," she said hastily. 

Hermione turned to the door, turning the doorknob. But just as she cracked the door ajar, a hand slammed it shut. She looked up in shock as she noticed Malfoy's arm extended over her shoulder. She could feel the heat of his body at her back, causing shivers down her spine. The only thing keeping her from outright panicking was the knowledge that Malfoy, despite his arrogance and rudeness, was still one of the good guys. That and that Ron and George were just on the other side of the door. 

She turned around, though she just ended up crowded between the door at her back and Malfoy looming over her. 

"Aren't you curious?" Malfoy drawled hoarsely. "Don't you wonder why I transformed when you touched me?" 

Hermione forced herself to take slow, even breaths even though the scent of him was slightly intoxicating. 

"I assume it's a defense mechanism. I only know of one other veela, and I've never seen Fleur grow wings. I assume it happens only under very dire conditions." 

"It can be defensive, yes." He murmured silkily. 

Hermione couldn't tear her gaze away from his if she tried. The intensity of them displayed more emotion in this one moment than they had all six years of going to school together- including all the moments he'd sneered at her or taunted her. That was when she realized she never really answered his question, and he hadn't really told her why his wings emerged so violently today. 

"Why did you transform when I touched you?" Hermione whispered. 

She was clearly missing something important based on how Ron, George, and Malfoy seemed to be dancing around the point. And as much as she hated not knowing, she had a sinking feeling that knowing would change everything in this case. 

"Every veela- male or female- has a mate. It's not someone predestined. That's definitely just a fairytale. But for most of us, the veela itself is dormant until it meets someone it chooses as its mate. And once it has chosen, there's no changing it." 

Hermione gulped. Surely he wasn't saying what he seemed to be implying. 

"That sounds... problematic." Hermione's throat felt like dry parchment. "What if the person doesn't feel the same way as the veela? Or what if the mate doesn't return their feelings?" 

"It's not chosen arbitrarily, Hermione," he chuckled easily. "The magic of a veela makes it singularly capable of choosing the best mate for its wizard or witch. And with that, the mate would have all the devotion and loyalty that veelas are famous for." 

Hermione could barely comprehend any of the words beyond her own name. It was the first time Draco Malfoy had called her by her given name, ever. For the first time in a long time, she struggled to find adequate words. 

"H-how long have you known?" 

Draco's eyes narrowed on hers comprehendingly. He reached up, tugging gently on a loose curl framing her face. "Since the ball... six months ago." 

Hermione's eyes widened. When she'd first seen him with wings. Had she caused it back then too?  

"I don't understand," Hermione exhaled shakily. "We've known each other for years! Why now? Are you sure I'm- that it's-" 

"I'm positive." Malfoy clipped out. "As for why now, I think it was just chance. I didn't even think I got the veela gene during Hogwarts because my veela didn't reach maturity during that time. It skipped my father, so I assumed that's what happened to me. The war probably delayed my veela a good bit. And afterward... well, we didn't see a lot of each other, did we?"   

"I suppose we didn't," Hermione agreed weakly. 

"I was just as shocked as you are right now when I first sprouted wings during the ball!" Malfoy said assuringly. 

Right, Hermione thought grimly. He knew six months ago, and he never told her. If they didn't run into him today, she'd never know. He hadn't wanted her to know. He hadn't wanted his mate to know. That made Hermione more upset than she was willing to admit.

"So what happens now?" Hermione asked briskly. "Obviously, we can't leave you like this if you're transforming so violently." 

"We don't usually," Draco admitted. "It's- My veela has been more volatile the longer we haven't seen you. Normally they don't go so long without being near their mate." 

Hermione gulped. And he'd chosen to stay away anyway. 

"I suppose what happens now is up to you, Hermione. I don't want to take away your choice in the matter." 

Her throat felt so dry it hurt. She needed to be alone. She needed to research. Her choice in what? What exactly would she agree to? Malfoy? His veela? For how long? It seemed that even if his veela wanted her, the wizard himself didn't. Not to mention she and Malfoy didn't have the most cordial history. 

 "And what do you want?" Hermione asked cautiously. 

They both froze in shock as Malfoy's wings swept around her, cocooning her protectively. The wizard looked from his wings to her in abject horror as he ripped himself away from her. 

"I apologize, I didn't have any control over that. And it doesn't matter what I want," Malfoy spoke harshly.  

Hermione gulped as she nodded. Whatever the veela might want, it was clear Malfoy didn't want this. Whatever it might be. 

"I should leave," Hermione said firmly. 

Without waiting for a response, she rushed out of the supply room. Not wanting to face George or Ron, she apparated right back to her flat. She needed time to think. She needed to know more about this whole situation. She needed to understand why she suddenly felt so upset that Malfoy didn't want her. 

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-- 4 DAYS LATER

Merely a few days later, while Hermione sequestered herself to the safety of her flat, she heard a sharp crack from her living room. Hermione rushed out of her bedroom, surprised by the sight before her. 

"Fleur! What- I mean, it's good to see you." 

"Lovely to see you as well, Hermione," Fleur greeted in her dulcet French accent. 

"How did you get here?" Hermione asked in confusion. Fleur wasn't exactly keyed into her wards, and she didn't even think the witch knew where she lived. 

"Ron and George brought me here," she said serenely. 

"Why?" 

The blonde witch looked at Hermione knowingly until she sighed. 

"Right, you're a veela. Of course, they told you." 

"You know how quickly word spreads among the Weasleys," she said sheepishly. 

"Yes, that I do. That still doesn't explain why they've brought you here." 

"They wanted me to talk to you about your situation," she said solemnly. "Apparently, Draco left George's shop not long after you. They said he was not in the best shape." 

"He was fine when I left." Hermione's attention perked in concern. "Besides, I don't see how it has anything to do with me anymore. Malfoy doesn't want anything to do with me." 

"That can't be true," Fleur insisted strongly. "If you're his mate, you mean a great deal to him."

"I don't think Malfoy cares," Hermione argued. "He doesn't like me at all, much less like the way you're thinking." 

"Hermione, it is literally impossible for him not to want you. The veela magic within him chose you. It wouldn't have if you two weren't a good match." 

Hermione felt her mind go blank. "But he avoided me for months!" 

"Perhaps he was insecure." 

Hermione scoffed loudly, unable to help the rude expression of disbelief. Insecure? Malfoy? Highly unlikely. 

"No, really!" Fleur said passionately. "Everyone is always dazzled by the beauty of veelas. But underneath that, we are just ordinary people. Everyone always fawned over my beauty- even when I was a child. But I never wanted a mate who was illusioned by the veela magic or felt obligated to be with me because of it. I wanted a wizard who could love me for me. Maybe your Draco felt the same?" 

"He's not my Draco. He's not my anything!"

Fleur sighed deeply, prompting Hermione to reign in her frustration. 

"What happens if the mate doesn't choose the veela?"  

"Fairytales are more dramatic than reality." Fleur waved her hand dismissively as she chuckled dryly. "We don't literally die from heartbreak. Could you imagine? But it is still a rather painful heartbreak. 

"Why? If it's not linked to survival and there's no compulsion..."  

"Veelas are very amorous creatures. It's in our nature to love deeply. There is no greater pain than if our mate rejected us because that means we have to go about the rest of our life alone."

Hermione gulped. No pressure. Malfoy had implied that a mate would be the only partner a veela could pursue, and Fleur had essentially confirmed it.  

"Why are you telling me all this?" Hermione whispered.  

"Ron and George mentioned Malfoy was not in the best shape after you left," Fleur reminded her.

"He was fine when I left him." 

Fleur winced, picking her next words carefully. "Did you convey your intentions to meet him again?" 

"No, I just said I should leave-" Hermione's eyes widened in realization. "Oh, for Merlin's sake. Did he think that was a rejection?" 

"It could very likely be," Fleur murmured sympathetically.  

"I just needed space to think! To learn more about veelas before I jump headfirst into this situation! I know next to nothing about how veelas work!" 

"The books will not tell you much that will help you," Fleur assured her calmly. "As half wizards and half veelas, there is very little left veela ritual in the world. We've long since adapted to wizarding cultures compared to more ancient times. You just need to follow your instinct and follow your magic. It will not lead you astray." 

" And what?" Hermione cried incredulously. "Live happily ever after?"  

"Essentially." Fleur nodded bluntly. "It won't be perfect. Like every other relationship, I'm sure you'll have problems. But you will have his undying devotion, and he will never be happier with any other person than he would be with you." 

"And I'm just supposed to believe it?" Hermione asked helplessly. 

"Don't you trust your magic?" Fleur asked her imploringly. "Hermione, something in your magic called out to his veela. The veela does not choose arbitrarily. Trust yourself, and trust your magic."   

»»———— ☽ ༓ ☾ ———-««

Hermione couldn't bring herself to seek Malfoy out again for another few days. When she eventually saw him, it was once again by chance. She ran into him in the bookstore of all places. She was picking up an old tome on rare magical creatures she'd ordered, hoping to learn more about veelas. She saw him before he saw her and saw no point in trying to avoid him. She'd have to face this eventually. 

"Malfoy." 

Hermione felt a sharp wind knock her back as his wings reemerged with a violent force. She looked down in shock. Where Draco Malfoy had been standing with his back to her as he perused the aisles, the proud man was no on his knees with his wings cloaked around him and drooping on the floor. 

"For Salazar's sake," Malfoy hissed through clenched teeth. "Warn a bloke next time, will you?"

"I-I'm sorry I didn't expect that to happen," Hermione stammered apologetically. 

She reached forward to help him up, but he brushed her off. 

"It's fine," he acknowledged, his voice a little calmer now. "It's not your fault." 

"Does this happen all the time?" She asked warily. "It seems a bit painful." 

"It's not supposed to," he sighed tiredly, finally turning to look her in the eye. "I need to leave before this draws attention. Granger," he nodded in farewell. 

"Wait!" 

He paused, though his wand was now in his hand. 

"I wanted to talk to you." 

"I can't stay here like this," he told her. 

"That's fine, we can go somewhere else," she agreed easily. "But we do need to talk." 

He offered her an arm cautiously, waiting to see if she would trust him to apparate her. She caught hold of it without hesitation. 

Hermione wasn't sure why, but she was scared he'd take them to Malfoy Manor the brief moment they started disapparating. But they landed in a modernly styled and well-lit flat. When Hermione released him, he peeled off the shreds of his shirt hanging off him. 

"I'll be right back," he mumbled, going towards his bedroom to fetch a fresh shirt. 

Hermione was browsing through the books on his bookshelf when he returned. She turned around, and her eyes widened at the sight of his still bare torso. A childhood of quidditch and then adulthood of rigorous physical training and dueling had carved him into a physique of sinewy muscles. Hermione coughed, immediately averting her eyes. 

"Are you going to put that shirt on?" She asked distractedly. 

"I can't until my wings go away." 

"You can't cover-up?" She squeaked. 

Malfoy smirked. "Distracting you, am I, Granger?" 

She sputtered indignantly even as he dragged a blanket from his ottoman and draped it loosely over his bare torso. 

"What did you want to talk about?" He asked her solemnly. 

"Why do your wings do that?" She asked abruptly. 

"I told you last time-" 

"Last time you said they emerged so suddenly because it had been so long since you saw me! You saw me a week ago." 

Malfoy huffed in frustration. "It's not just time, Granger. The veela can feel you, and it knows it can't have you. So when you eventually do come around, it triggers violent outbursts like this. I can't exactly control it!" 

"What do you mean it knows it can't have me?" 

Draco looked at her as if she'd gone loony. "You said no!" 

"I didn't," Hermione argued. "I said I should go."

"You walked away when I asked you what you wanted to do about this," Draco growled, striding up to her as he bristled with frustration. "That's a pretty firm no in my book. Veela or not, I will not force anyone to be with me if they cannot like me for myself." 

Hermione's mouth dropped open in surprise. He was saying the exact same thing Fleur had told her. 

"I just needed time to think and process," Hermione explained apologetically. "I have no idea what being a veela's mate meant! I needed to research. I didn't... I wasn't rejecting you."

"And now?" He asked, his eyes practically glowing with anticipation. 

"Now..?" 

"Don't play dumb, Granger. It doesn't suit you," he drawled, sliding up to her with a boost of confidence. The blanket slid off him as he approached, and he didn't bother reaching for it. "You're here in my flat by choice. I assume you've done your research." 

"No, actually," Hermione laughed. "Someone told me to trust my magic. I was going to do some reading anyway, but then I saw you at the shop." 

"Good advice," he murmured. 

"I still don't understand what you want in all this, Malfoy," Hermione hedged uncertainly. 

"How?" He asked, befuddled. "I'm a veela. You're my mate- what else is there to understand?" 

"The veela chose me, yes. But you knew I was your mate for six months and you never told me! Were you ever going to tell me if you hadn't run into me?" 

Draco sighed deeply. "I'm not sure. And before you get all indignant, it wasn't about you! At least not at first. I was just as shocked as you were to learn you were my mate the night of the ball. At first, I panicked because veelas can be very volatile if they don't feel secure with their mate. We weren't even cordial, much less close enough for me to just tell you all this out of nowhere. So I decided it would be good for me to try and get a handle on things before I involved other people. I resigned from the aurors the next day and-"     

"You resigned from the aurors because of me?" Hermione asked suddenly. 

In the brief silence that followed, it felt like someone had ripped her heart out of her chest. She knew how much Draco had devoted to the aurors. Even Ronald Weasley, of all people, acknowledged his merit as an auror. Her friend had told her he didn't think Malfoy had any intention of making a career change. And yet he had. Because her being his mate made him volatile. 

"No, not because of you, because of me," Draco said firmly. "I had the same reaction you did, Hermione. I needed time to think and process. I couldn't do my job while I did that. People rely on the aurors as the difference between life or death. I couldn't put my team at risk working in the state I was in." 

"And now?" Hermione asked hesitantly. 

"Well, I got most of it under control, which was why you saw me out in public that day in Diagon Alley. But clearly, being around you triggers some strange reactions," he said, vaguely gesturing to his wings.  

"But you love being an auror," she argued softly. 

He tugged a stray curl of hers with a sad smile. "I do. But until I can guarantee I'm not a liability, it's just not feasible for me to return." 

He could see the gears churning in her mind and quickly hastened to add, "I don't dislike what I'm doing now! It gives me a lot more power than I had before, for sure. It's just different." 

There was no way he would accept Hermione being with him out of some misplaced desire to create a stable environment so that he could return to being an auror. Finding out she was with him out of some misplaced sense of responsibility would make his veela more volatile, not less. 

"So, where does that leave you?" Hermione asked finally. "Even after you processed things, you still never reached out to me." 

He hesitated as he searched for the right words. 

"Did you... did you not want to be with me?" Hermione asked in a clear voice, though her insides shriveled at the very thought. 

Draco recoiled sharply. "What are you talking about? How could you ever think that?" 

"What else was I supposed to think? We're not exactly friends. It wouldn't surprise me if you said you didn't want me." 

"Hermione," he implored deeply. He cupped her face in his hands, tilting it up to meet his eyes. "I will always want you. It's in my very nature as a veela. I trust my magic, and my magic tells me you're it. Can I say whether I'd have ever thought of you if I weren't a veela? I'm not sure. We have a lot of history, and there's been no easy way for us to be casual acquaintances. Before now."

"This isn't exactly casual," Hermione chuckled helplessly. 

"No, I suppose not. But you still have a choice. You will always have a choice." 

"I don't know where this could go..." Hermione hedged uncertainly. 

Draco's expression dropped, and he was about to withdraw his hands when Hermione reached up and grasped them suddenly in reaffirmation. 

"But, I'm willing to trust my magic." 

Draco watched her in disbelieving surprise, and she wondered if he was going to say anything. But instead, his wings extended outwards, gathering her close in a cacoon against him like the day she'd walked out on him. The silky-smooth sensation of his feathers was electrifying. 

"I learned to control it," he smirked as he snaked his arms around her to pull her even deeper into his embrace. 

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