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She is brought to his pack on strict orders that she is his, and his alone. No one that isn’t given explicit permission is allowed to touch her, let alone be in the same room as her.
Despite the war raging out in the world outside his pack, Draco poured an exorbitant amount of money–and a few blood magic rituals–in order to find her. His true mate. Something many werewolves can only dream of finding. Many wolves die having never experienced the love and devotion that can only come from one's true mate. And for the longest time Draco thought his fate would be condemned to a loveless life. Yet here she was, his mate. Conveniently brought to him, tied up like a present, and ready to be claimed by him.
Hermione Granger.
When Draco first sees her, she’s tied to a chair, hair wild, eyes blazing with a fire that’s barely contained. He’s in awe the second he sees her lash out at one of the more intimidating members of his pack. She doesn’t even flinch when they get in her face, teeth bared, glowing eyes that could only mean a monster waiting to be unleashed. He can’t hear what she says to them, but the defiant turn of her head can only mean she isn’t impressed with their threats.
He hasn’t seen that kind of defiance in a very long time. She’s all fire and grit rolled into a slight frame that is more hair than anything.
It makes his heart race and cock hard. It takes everything within him not to burst through the door and take her right then and there–bent over the table, hands still tied behind her back.
Despite the primal urge to claim her as his, he has to do this right. Every book that he has read about true mates indicates that both parties must consent to the claim. No magical manipulation and no love potions. Both of them have to be clear of mind and willing. His side of the claim was active, it was Hermione’s that just needs a bit more of a nudge in the right direction.
With his plan he knew that before the full moon, she would be his. And Merlin, what beautiful pups would they make.
The doses start small.
He doesn’t want to overwhelm her with his pheromones, it would only prove to void their bond or worse send her into a lust filled frenzy that would only drive her to the nearest alpha.
No, Draco calculates every interaction. Down to the very second.
She isn’t given very many liberties in the manor. A few hours in the library, and supervised time outside in the gardens. And in those times Draco always finds a way to brush past her, reach over her head for a book, jog past her as she stoops down to smell the roses. And every time he passes by, she gives him an exasperated look. A comment under her breath about personal space or never having a moment alone.
Yet each time he passes her, every time they are in the same room together, he can see the slight changes. The lingering eye contact, the dilated pupils, the slight uptick to her heart beat, the sweetness that seems to grow from within her. All those tiny changes are a reminder to him that despite her not knowing of the existence of their bond, her soul calls to him.
Her soul recognizes his soul.
Draco arrives at the library a few minutes before her usual arrival. He places himself in the seat adjacent to the one she takes. From what he’s learned of her she rarely ever picks a different spot in the library. He has seen the way she cozies up by the fire, the blanket he purposefully left in the library always sprawled across her lap. The wolf lying dormant in his mind perks up at the thought of the blanket, her scent thick between the folds.
His back is to the door when he hears her from the library entrance. Her footsteps are light in the plush carpet, one finger grazing the book spines as she passes by. Her steady strides tell him of her comfort in the room, a familiarity. He pretends not to notice when she staggers for a second when she sees him in the seating area.
Hermione’s voice is steady when she greets him. With just a simple hello from her, Draco longs to hold her in his lap, push the curls off her shoulder and bite down onto her neck. He wants to soothe the ache with his tongue until she is preeing for him, grinding on his lap until she can’t take it anymore and begs him to take her.
The wolf stirs behind his mind, the thought of claiming her, is almost too much to handle. And when Draco sees her brush her fingertips against the jumper he had placed over the side of the armchair, he is entirely too pleased to see her just as affected.
She pulls her hand away, instead grabbing the book on the coffee table. He keeps his voice soft, almost a hum to her ears, “Hello, Hermione.”
In such a small area, he can sense the smallest changes within her, the way her scent seems to meld with his–lulling them both into a sense of comfort. So when she sits herself next to him he can’t help but move closer to her, throwing an arm onto the back of the couch, his fingers playing with a strand of hair. Her hair is soft.
“I assume it’s you I should be thanking for my time here.” She snaps him out of his reverie.
“What do you mean?”
“You’re the one in charge here, aren’t you? You’re the one that probably ordered those men to bring me here.” She turns to face him, a fire blazing within her eyes. “So, now I want to know. Why am I here?”
There weren’t many times that Draco has been left speechless. He knew that she could raise hell, the broken nose that one of the non-wolves received from her was evident of that. But here she was, talking to him like that. He hasn’t seen that kind of defiance in a very long time. She’s all fire and grit rolled into a slight frame that is more hair than anything.
“You’re here because I want to protect you.” He isn’t sure how to respond, but it’s the closest thing to the truth.
“Protecting me?” She scoffs, shaking her head, “Your men practically dragged me here. My friends need me out there!”
“Your friends would probably end up getting you killed.” He sees the switch from frustration to anger, he can feel the way her hair practically vibrates with magic.
“I am no safer here, then I am out there.”
“That’s why I’m here. To keep you safe.”
“Oh yeah, and how exactly are you supposed to do that in a manor full of wolves?” He swears he sees electricity crackling through her curls. “Why can’t you just let me leave!”
The words leave his mouth before he can truly process them, “The only way we can get you out of here is if I claim you.”
Her laugh echoes throughout the library, “Do you think I’d do anything as stupid as to let you claim me? You’re out of your mind.”
“If you want to stay here, fine. But being without my protection can only get you so far.” He leans forward, and despite all the bravado within her, she pushes herself against the back of the sofa. This close to her scent muddles up his thoughts.
“There are others here that wouldn’t hesitate to take you. You’re strong Hermione, but strong enough to fend off a werewolf going into a rut? I don’t think so.” He can hear the way her heart speeds up. Can see the way that she tries to keep the fear at bay.
She hesitates, her eyes looking off in the distance. Probably thinking about what would happen in that very scenario. The spike in her heart beat warms her scent to him. A spicy, earthy taste lingers on the tip of his tongue. As if on instinct, she tilts her head to the side, her curls falling off her shoulder, exposing the length of her neck—mating glad just slightly swollen, just barely there under the skin.
Her body is subconsciously reacting to his own pheromones, changing her, preparing her—just for him. A bead of sweat trickles down her forehead. She runs out of the room before he can say anything else.
That night, he wakes up with a start. The sudden urge to protect , thumbs through his veins. It’s a heavy feeling that leaves his stomach in knots, the unknown danger churns the contents in his stomach. He can’t shake it off until he figures out what is wrong. And like many other paths, they all led to Hermione. It is purely by instinct that he ends up outside her door.
He can smell the beginning of her change, her body beginning to accept their impending bond. Her closed door cannot hide the sweetness coming from her body, so alluring that he cannot help himself but to open her door.
Hermione shifts in her bed when he slips quietly into her room. A sigh, a rustle of sheets against bare skin, her cheeks are flushed pink and the arousal that smelled faint from behind the door soaks the sheets beneath her.
If it wasn’t for her steady heartbeat he would have assumed she was awake with how much she is fidgeting in bed. When she turns onto her stomach, the sheets bunched around her hips and thighs, the slight movement of her hips is captivating.
Her whimper calls to him and the wolf at the edge of his subconscious. He recognizes now the urge to protect he felt earlier. It was Hermione calling him through their bond, this close to the full moon, it was bound to draw them near. She was experiencing the symptoms of heat, her body's way of preparing her for what was to come. The desperate urge for release that was coming from her body was enough to bring him here to her. The only one that could truly satiate the need she felt.
Draco slowly slips under the covers, grinning as her body subconsciously shifts towards him. She throws one of her legs over his lap–the warmth of her cunt pressed against the side of his thigh. Draco watches as her eyes begin to flutter, she’s edging towards consciousness and her lips part with a sigh, “Draco.”
His grip on her hip tightens, his name coming from her mouth shoots straight to his cock. He’s never heard anything more beautiful. He brushes his thumb over her plump lips; the urge to kiss her, to show her how well he could take care of her, how goods he could make her feel with just his mouth. The wolf urges him forward, but Draco stops himself when he sees her eyes begin to crack slightly.
“Draco?” Sleep addled and slightly confused her hips grind against him. She hums, pressing harder against his thigh, he can feel the drag of wetness even through the material of his sweatpants.
She moans with another grind but pauses, he sees the moment she realizes she’s no longer asleep. Feels the way her heart pounds against his chest.
“Shhhh, it’s okay, love,” he places his hand on her hip, “take what you need.” he squeezes, pushing and pulling against her until she tentatively finds her own rhythm. Her eyes are wide when she shifts up his lap, pressing more firmly against his hard length. Quick and tight grinds against his thigh, her swollen clit bumping against the head of his cock.
He can feel the pressure of his knot expanding, the ache has him thrusting up as she grinds down. They both gasp as each movement becomes more desperate. She buries her face into his collar, her breath hot against his skin as she lets out tiny whimpers.
Her hips move in quick, jerky movements. His pant leg is completely soaked by the time she lets out one final gasp. His cock twitches along with her, his cum soaking the already wet fabric.
“I will have you,” he growls into her ear, teeth scraping against the side of her neck. “But not tonight.”
Hermione whimpers when he tucks her back into bed, her hand reaching out to him. All he wants to do is stay in bed with her, to keep her close. But the urge to claim her is far too potent at the moment, and without her acknowledgment of their bond he’s too scared to risk jeopardizing it.
With a final kiss to her forehead, Draco leaves her, tucked under the sheets. The silvery light coming from the moon is bright and when it reflects off her eyes. Draco knows he won’t have to wait much longer
He doesn’t see her at all the next day. She locks herself in her room and doesn’t go outside for her walk, nor does she go to the library. If it weren’t for one of the elves bringing her food to her room, he doubts she’d come out for that.
He understands that she needs space, that everything must be so overwhelming and confusing in her mind. But his body screams to be near her, to not let her out of his sight. It’s worse with the moon so near, his wolf so close to the forefront of his mind, pushing against his mental walls to be near her.
It takes everything within him to allow her the moment of reflection she needs, to really understand what is to come for them. But with the full moon so near the wolf won’t stay still for much longer.
The next day, the night of the full moon he knocks on her door. With no answer he walks to the library, her scent is faint but she isn’t there. He heads off to the rose garden, but before he arrives, he catches her scent going in the opposite direction.
It leads him to the forest.
Hermione knows it is a futile escape. She knows it the moment she steps foot in the dense forest. But she saw an opportunity, so she took it. The moment she saw the chance to escape she did not hesitate to run out into the woods. Harry and Ron’s tendency at jumping straight into danger was rubbing off on her.
But then again, she hadn’t felt like herself in a very long time.
She hadn’t even realized it was the night of the full moon until she’s so far in the forest that she couldn't turn back. And the instant she hears a howl ring throughout the forest she knows exactly how terrible her situation is.
“Hermione!” Draco’s voice comes from the path she had just come from. She curses under her breath, looking for anywhere she can hide. But in a flash of silver he’s standing right in front of her, grasping her shoulders.
“What are you doing out here?” His voice is ragged and pained. She can see the way his eyes start to shift from grey to a brilliant silver, his hands shifting into claws as they hold tight onto her shoulders.
“I-” She tries to explain herself, but can’t find the words as she watches him double over in pain.
“You have to run! Get out of here before you get hurt. R-run north. Village there, th-they can protect y-you.” Her heart aches for him, watching as he struggles to keep upright, slow changes being brought to the surface.
“Draco, we have to get you back to the manor.” She tries to straighten him up, but he pushes her gently in the direction she was walking.
“No! You have to run Hermione. Go, now!”
She’s frozen for a moment. But then she bolts off into the darkness. The light of the moon is her only guide as she jumps over fallen logs. Her hair catches on a low hanging branch and she falls hard onto her back.
Hermione hears the echo of Draco’s scream, it’s blood curling and painful. She almost wishes she could go back, comfort him for just a moment. The sound of cracking bones and ripping flesh rings in her ears.
Despite the burn in her legs she runs and runs. Running through the burn in her side and ignoring the urge to simply lay down and breathe .
The full moon offers weak light as she stumbles over exposed roots and low hanging branches. She knew that running was futile. A fully transformed wolf would gain on her in seconds, so she did the next best thing she could think of. It is a risky move but if she manages to survive the night that’s all she needs.
A howl from somewhere in the woods alerts her to his impending transformation. She knows she can’t keep running forever, as a wolf Draco could easily track her down. And with his strength, there’s not much she can do to protect herself without a wand.
Even though her mind screams at her to run. Run as far as her legs will carry her and not look back. Her heart and soul ache to be with him. Nothing about the way they met was normal, but Hermione’s life has been far from normal since the moment she found out magic was real and that she could use that magic.
In the years before the war changed everything, Hermione had studied everything she could about magical creatures and what sorts of lives they lead. And every time she found herself circling back to werewolves and the unfair nature of finding their mates. How most wolves never find their mate and end up living a life without their other half.
And since being held captive at the manor, she came to understand her place there. Could understand why she was so affected by Draco’s mere presence and why she was constantly reaching towards him. Despite the anger that she feels for having been taken away from the war efforts and her friends–she always seems to forget about that anger and fear when Draco is around.
She makes a decision for herself.
“Claim me.” She says. Her words seem to stir the still air and despite their distance she knows he heard.
The howl that punches through the night sends an undeniable heat coursing through her. The ache that has lingered in her body since arriving at the manor, the thrill of Draco’s closeness to her. All that she tried so hard to deny and build a wall comes crumbling down.
She bolts into the woods, running a straight line, dodging trees and fallen logs in her mad dash. She can hear the breaking of branches and tree logs from behind her. The sound of heavy paws hitting the forest floor at an unnatural speed. She doesn’t stop until she reaches the clearing, planting her feet into the soft grass, facing the dark forest where she hears him coming.
A shiver of excitement goes down her back.
He’s much bigger than she expected, even half transformed, she can only imagine the immense size of him once he’s in his full form. The white of his fur shines in the moonlight, it looks so soft she wants to reach out and run her hands through it.
She walks towards him, having to tilt her head up just to meet his eyes. His teeth have sharpened into points and the ears sticking out in his hair twitch as she brings a hand up to touch his cheek. He leans into her touch, his eyes despite their severity, seem to soften as her thumb traces over the scar on his face.
“I’m yours, Draco.”
He slowly backs her up into a tree. His large hand brushes her curls off her shoulder, lightly tracing the line of her neck with his sharp claws. She can’t help the moan that escapes her when he passes over a particularly sensitive spot.
“I must bite you, here. Your mating gland.”
“Do it.” She gasps. A growl rumbles from his chest as he leans down and kisses her neck. She braces herself for the pain that is to come but instead he comes up and softly pressing his mouth to hers.
She lets out a startled squeak when he brings his hand down, completely shredding her shirt and trousers. He quickly does the same to her bra and panties. If she had her wand she would have cursed him for completely destroying her last wearable bra. But those thoughts leave her mind when he kneels down before her, kissing and licking at her chest and nipples before grabbing one of her legs and throwing it over his shoulder.
He kisses the inside of her thigh, lightly biting at the sensitive flesh there. His mouth is soft as he presses light kisses around her mound. She blushes hard when he buries his nose and breathes her scent in.
Hermione almost pushes him away but one swipe of his tongue through her folds almost has her crumbling to the floor. But Draco’s grip is strong and steadies her as he laps at her clit. Her hands go into his hair, she pulls slightly, fully grinding her cunt into his face as his rough tongue fucks into her.
With one final suck to her clit, she comes undone. Her moans echo throughout the forest. Her orgasm hits her harder than she expects, she throws her head back and continues to grind onto his tongue. She shivers and goes lax in his grip, Draco lowers her gently to the ground.
His mouth continues to suck on her clit, his sharp hands coming up and pressing her thighs up to her chest. His tongue runs down her folds, lapping at the slick dripping out of her. The sparks of pleasure are too much for her to handle, but he doesn’t stop, licking and sucking at her swollen clit until he drags another orgasm out of her. Hermione cries out, pulling on his hair until he finally drops her legs and kisses up her body. Running his hands up and over her breasts, flicking her nipples, until he brings one bud into his mouth.
When he finally brings his mouth to hers, she sighs, tasting herself on his lips as he kisses her deeply. When his hard cock pushes against her fold she bucks against him. She’s still too sensitive from the other orgasms. But that doesn’t stop Draco, the head of his cock continues to move through her folds, spreading her wetness all over his cock.
Draco focuses his movements onto her clit, with every move of his hips his cock rubs directly over it, sending jolts of painful pleasure. Her hands move to push his hips off her. The sensations are too much to handle.
“Mine.” Draco growls, one hand takes both wrists and pins them over her head. With his other hand he grabs his cock, placing it at her entrance before slowly pushing the head of his cock inside of her. The breath is punched out of her when he thrusts the rest of his length in. The stretch is almost too much, despite how wet she is, it still takes a moment to adjust to his size.
“Please, no more,” she whimpers.
“One more, Hermione, give me one more.” He gasps into her ear as he slowly begins to fuck her, sparks of pleasure shooting up her spine with ever thrust.
Her hips cant up to rut up against his slowly swelling knot. The tears glistening on her cheeks haven’t stopped since her first orgasm and the rhythmic spasms of her walls around his cock signal another quickly approaching.
He begins to pick up the pace, thrusting into her harder and deeper into the forest floor, the smell of moss and sex thick in the air. Hermione cries out with one particularly brutal thrust, it almost feels like he’s thrusting into her cervix. The mix of pleasure and pain is almost too much to handle.
He keeps a quick pace, gasping and growling as she clenches around him. The gush of wetness coming from her core, soaking the ground beneath them. Her nails bite into the tops of his hands as he thrusts one last time into her
It catches her by surprise when Draco bites down on her neck. She screams, mind going completely blank as the pleasure overtakes her senses.
Hermione feels something click into place within her, a sense of fulfilment. An absence that she had never noticed until it was filled.
A howl escapes from Draco, his eyes clenched shut as he pumps his come into her. His knot grows until they’re locked together.
Distantly she hears herself say, “Your hair, or should I say fur, is so soft.” Draco grumbles out what seems to be a laugh. His snout nuzzles into her hair, breathing in her scent. She falls asleep, with Draco’s knot inside her, the burn of the stretch turning into a pleasant ache.
When Draco wakes up, he’s back to his human form. The lack of pain he feels takes him by surprise. But that is quickly replaced by thoughts of Hermione, his mate, is still sleeping soundly in his arms. The rush that Draco feels when he looks at the bite mark on her neck is indescribable. All those years of searching and she was finally his.
He trails his hand down her body, wanting to memorize every detail of her. He spreads his hand over her stomach, imagining her growing round with his pups inside her. The thought sends a jolt of pleasure down his spine.
He brings two fingers to her opening, pushing the come that is slowly trickling out. He wants to keep her full of his seed. He makes a mental note to bring a plug with him the next time.
He continues to pump his fingers inside her as she begins to stir awake. She moans when he brings his lips to hers, kissing her hard as his fingers speed up.
“You and I would make beautiful pups.”
When her eyes meet his, they’re glistening and wide, the brown shining with flecks of amber as the morning light breaks through the branches. He can see how they’re almost pleading, begging him to breed her, keep her come drunk and satiated.
He thinks of what their children would look like–his grey eyes and her brown righteous curls on a small bundle. And he wants that so badly in one swift movement, she’s screaming in his ear as he buries himself back inside her warmth. He practically comes instantly, his knot swelling so quickly he feels lightheaded. She’s thrashing under him, nails dragging down his chest pushing against him but his knot keeps her pressed tightly to him.
Draco whispers words of affection as he wipes her tears away. She wraps her arms around his neck and doesn’t let go, and Draco never plans on letting her go.