Scars: A Dramione Veela Story

Chapter 5

Draco's pov.

Hermione might like Weasley. Mclaggen likes her. I need her.

The witch that pushed the trolley had been past and dense dark clouds had covered the sky. Then looking out of the window I see it. Hogwarts just barely visible on its cliff. It's my sanctuary, my home it keeps me safe from my father. It lets my scars heal.

I exit the train when it comes to a halt and lucky run into Blaise and Pansy and we find a carriage. A few drops of rain fall as we step inside the thestral pulled carriage. Blaise and Pansy are talking quietly to each other so I slip up the sleeve on my left arm. The dark mark is there faintly.

"So how was your summer mate?" Blaise says pulling me out of my revelry. I quickly slid my sleeve down.

"Fine, my father was released last week." He gave me a look meaning he wanted more info but I gave a slight shake of my head indicating I'm not saying anything with Pansy here.

"Well, my summer was amazing.....Blaise found out he's a veela and I'm his mate." Says Pansy.

"Wow, really?" I say turning to Blaise.

"Ya, from my mother's side."

"I'm a veela." I say looking at both of them.

"Wait, you're joking?" Blaise says.

"Nope. Found out today actually." I huffed a little slumping deeper into the bench. Pansy is just in utter shock.

"Do you know who you're mate is?" Blaise says.

"Granger," I say looking defeated.

"Don't worry." He says smirking.

"I'll bring flowers to your funeral." He says jokingly. I laugh along with him and Pansy but I'm scared what if I actually die? The rain fell harder and faster as the fleet of carriages made its way up the sloping drive. By the time our carriage halted it had begun to pour. We reach the entrance hall soaking wet and make our way to the Slytherin table. Pansy went to sit with some girlfriends so Blaise and I are left alone at the end of the table. I perform a quick drying charm turn to Blaise who had done the same.

"My father came back and acted like he never left," I say in a hushed voice.

"What did he do?" He replies. I had told Blaise what my father did to me after he had spotted one of my scars.

"Whips mostly," I say smirking. But Blaise looks a little sick.

At that moment McGonagall stands up for her speech. I almost dose off since I had heard this speech seven times before. She sits down and the food appears.