Chapter 3
Fuck.
That’s all Draco could think.
A werewolf finding their mate was supposed to be rare, and yet he found his within the first hour on the train ride to Hogwarts for his sixth year—the year he was set on a suicide mission.
Draco walked into an empty compartment, closed the door, and silenced and warded it.
“Fuck!” Draco yelled, grabbing fistfuls of his hair. He screamed and dropped into a crouch, tucking his head between his knees. “FUCK!” He bounced on the balls of his feet, a sob escaping him.
How was he supposed to accomplish his impossible mission while also being distracted by Hermione mudblood Granger of all people, simply because his wolf decided she was perfect for them?
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He might as well just kill himself now.
Draco let out another sob. He couldn’t just kill himself–he had to do his assignment or his mother would be punished–punished for his father’s failure.
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Punished for his father’s failure, which included being thwarted by the girl who was now apparently the person his life was supposed to revolve around.
“Fuck,” Draco whimpered. He let himself fall back onto his arse, hands still gripped in his hair.
Maybe he can fix the cabinet, kill the headmaster, then grab his mate and mother and leave the country.
As if on cue, his Dark Mark burned slightly, making Draco twitch in surprise and reminding him that, no matter where he went, his master could find him.
Draco didn’t know how long he sat on the ground for, but eventually the train beginning to slow down brought him back to the present. He cursed, then got up to hurry back to the compartment he had been sitting in with his friends before his encounter with Granger.
“Draco, where were you?” Pansy Parkinson asked, fluttering her eyelashes at him none too subtly.
She, Daphne Greengrass, Theo Nott, Blaise Zabini, Vincent Crabbe, and Gregory Goyle were in separate conversations, but nodded at Draco when he came in.
Draco rolled his eyes as he pulled his trunk down from the luggage rack above the compartment bench. “Got sidetracked and lost track of time. Don’t worry about it, Pansy.”
“You missed the prefect meeting,” Pansy continued to simper, either not getting the hint that Draco didn’t want to talk to her or else ignoring him. “You should have seen Mudblood Granger glaring at me, as if your missing the meeting was my fault. So thanks for that. But it’s okay–I forgive you.”
Draco almost snarled at Pansy’s use of the slur toward Granger. He had to fight to not react in any way other than flashing her a smirk.
“I’ll make it up to you,” Draco lied. Pansy didn’t catch on to the lie, though, and just grinned and touched his arm.
Draco yanked his arm out of her reach and grabbed his school robes.
“Be right back,” he told Pansy and his other friends. He was out the door before anyone could say anything else.
He walked past a few compartments full of Slytherins and slid into the bathroom. He changed into his uniform and hurried back to his friends.
******
Draco smirked as he sat down for the opening feast. It only broadened when he saw Harry Potter walk into the Great Hall, face still bloody from Draco breaking his nose.
“That your handiwork?” Theo asked from Draco’s right.
Draco flashed Theo his smirk in response. Theo nodded in approval.
“Found the git spying on me,” Draco explained.
Blaise turned around to look at Potter. He snorted. “Serves him right.”
Draco watched Potter walk over to the Gryffindor table. He sat down next to Granger, who immediately started fussing over him, grabbing a napkin and trying to wipe the blood off his face.
Draco could feel his werewolf shift in agitation at seeing his mate touch another male. A low snarl built up in his throat.
“Draco!” Theo flicked Draco in the ear to get his attention.
“Ow!” Draco cupped his ear and turned to glare at his friend. “What the fuck, Theo?”
“You’re being weird.”
Draco scowled at his friend. “Sod off, Theo.”
Theo grinned tauntingly. “Why are you being weird?”
“Sod off, Theo.”
“You’re no fun. I’ll find out what’s going on with you.”
“I don’t recommend doing that, if you know what’s good for you.”
Theo just laughed.
The doors to the Great Hall opened. A small herd of nervous first-years entered and gathered at the front of the room to get sorted by the Hat.
Draco tuned out the Sorting Hat’s song out, gaze drifting back to his mate. Her lips were pursed as if displeased with something. Draco glanced over to Potter, who was still dabbing at his nose. When he turned back to his mate, her eyes were already on him, giving him an appraising look, as if she was trying to figure something out about him.
Granger inhaled sharply as they made eye contact. Her eyelids fluttered. Draco could feel his werewolf preen and purr under her gaze; both Draco and his werewolf became lost in her deep brown eyes.
Finally she looked away when Dumbledore started his speech, and Draco felt like he could breathe again.