A Dramione Love Story: To Be a Veela (COMPLETE)

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Thirteen

When Hermione busted open the large wooden doors, she couldn’t believe what she was seeing. Draco was being held down on the bed by Professor McGonagall and Madam Pomfrey, while Mr. Malfoy sat on the opposite end of the bed, watching.

            Someone else who worked in the hospital wing came over to Hermione and tried to get her to leave, but she wouldn’t. Hermione pushed the woman off of her and went near Draco, standing behind Professor McGonagall and out of Lucius’s sight.

            “Is he going to be alright?” Hermione whispered to the Headmistress. She jumped first out of shock, but then eased up and very quietly, replied to Hermione’s inquiry.

            “I’m not so sure Miss Granger,” she breathed, glancing over her shoulder at her and then back to Draco, who was still throwing a temper tantrum on the bed while his father silently watched. “This boy is dying, and very violently too.” Hermione backed up into the curtain behind her, tears threatening to spill.

            “Isn’t there anything that you can do?” Hermione pleaded. Minerva’s face fell.

            “Not even the strongest magic or potions can stop this from happening. I’m sorry.” Then she averted her attention back to the writhing Draco and all Hermione could do was feel bad for herself. Feel bad for him. It was her fault, all because she didn’t want to be with him for fear of his parents.

            “Where is she?” Narcissa shouted, entering the hospital wing. Her wand was at the ready as Lucius stood up and greeted his wife.

            “Nice of you to join us,” he said, holding out his arms. Mrs. Malfoy walked away from her husband and over to Draco. She rested her palm on his head and it stopped all his movement. McGonagall looked up at her in shock.

            “He’s alive,” she told her, “but not for long. Unless that Granger gets over here and accepts-”

            “What does this have to do with Hermione?” McGonagall cut in. “This has nothing to do with her or any other student at Hogwarts.” Narcissa laughed.

            “Oh, but it does. If she doesn’t accept Draco as a mate and they don’t seal that bond by his birthday, then Draco will die. The process had already begun.” Hermione couldn’t hear anymore. Without getting noticed, she snuck out of the hospital wing and walked slowly back to the Gryffindor Common Room, where the Fat Lady’s painting frame was getting fixed.

            She reminisced back to the memory when Draco had apologized for all of his wrong-doings. He didn’t seem sincere at the time, and Hermione felt the need to play along because he did seem like he was trying. Then they started to argue when they talked about family and her friends. He always seemed angry with her whenever the subject of his bloodline came up. Now she could see that he wasn’t lying. He was sincere. Draco Malfoy wanted her, Hermione Granger, to be with him until the end of time; but now he might be too weak to start the mating process. The exchanging of blood and soul. Their words and actions binding them until the end of time.

            Hermione cried, slowing her pace. Yes, she was in love with Draco Malfoy.

            “Why does this hurt so badly?” she asked herself, resting her palm against a wall and them slowly falling down on both of her knees, her other hand clenching her heart. Then the pain was unbearable. It wasn’t psychological pain that gnawed at Hermione’s heart. It was psychical pain. Muscles inside of her ribs felt like they were cracking and breaking.

            “Ah! Someone!” Footsteps came slowly towards her, the voice belonging to the person mumbling.

“Ossis Effergo.” Then she felt the tip of a wand touch the top of her spinal cord and the cracking commenced, following all the way down to her tail bone. Next the same incantation was muttered, except a blue light was visible and her legs felt like a bunch of tiny bugs tunneling their way through one end of her leg and then barreling out the other end through her bones.

Her eyes were teary from all of the agony, but she managed to move her neck the slightest bit before her entire spinal cord was shattered. Hermione’s sight was blurred, only making out blonde hair, dressed in a long, black cloak.