"Draco, darling? What are you doing?" She asked as he entered and left the room for the fourth time, taking two more pillows with him each time. Wasn't it obvious, he had to make sure everything was perfect for Hermione! First impressions were the most important, after all. He needed to prove that he would be a good match. No, not just a good match, the perfect match!

He returned to his bedroom and deposited the two pillows onto a spare corner of the rug before he took a step back to survey the room with a critical eye. Yes, his efforts would doubtlessly impress Hermione. No doubt she would fall to her knees in enthusiasm and allow him to ceremoniously sweep her off her feet and have his way with her.

But perhaps it wouldn't hurt to test it out, he thought. He removed his shoes and socks, pulled his shirt over his head and waded through to the centre of his masterpiece. Once he was happy with his location, he plopped himself onto the ground and closed his eyes, happy to immerse himself in his environment.

So soft, so perfect.

"Draco!"

His mother stood at the door, covering her pursed lips with a delicately poised hand. At first, Draco only felt confusion. Why in Merlin's name was she laughing at him? This was a very important task, after all!

As Narcissa continued to giggle away behind her hand, the honeyed fog in his brain began to fade. His vision cleared, his posture straightened, and his delight rapidly turned to horror. One quick glance and he could already tell that he'd gone and gathered what was probably every single pillow in the entire Manor and deposited them on every visible surface in his room.

"Just look at you, nesting away!" Narcissa tittered, and from the way she was glancing out at the hall he could see she was tempted to call out to his father.

Draco moaned aloud and fell back into the pillowy mess, "This is ridiculous. I've gone mad, mother, completely and utterly mad. Just kill me now. Put me out of my misery."

She lifted her skirts and began a daring passage through the mountains of pillows to enter the room. Once or twice she nearly tripped, and Draco almost came out of his sulk to help her back out, but then falling into a massive pile of pillows was hardly the most dangerous place to land. When she finally made it to him, she perched herself on her knees on a purple embroidered piece and grabbed at his shoulder. With Draco's lacking will to live, it took Narcissa longer to drag his body towards her, but she managed it anyway. Draco's body slumped across the pillows in an awkward angle as she encouraged his head to rest upon her bosom.

Draco wished someone would just end him already.

"Oh darling, don't look so downtrodden! This is all perfectly normal, you know that," She said as she pet the hair off his forehead, "You used to love building pillow forts as a boy."

"Mum, men don't build...pillow forts," He tried not to pout. He really, really did.

"You can't help your instincts, Draco. If nesting happens to be among them then all it says is that you'll make a brilliant, caring father and husband."

Draco felt very sour all of a sudden, and didn't try to suppress his next comment, "Guess Father wasn't the nesting type then."

He felt Narcissa sigh, but she continued to comb her fingers through his hair and stroke his shoulder, "No, he wasn't, but that doesn't mean he doesn't love you or me. He does, very dearly. He's just…"

"'Misguided', I know," Draco finished with a roll of his eyes.

"Why don't you tell me what put in such a state to begin with?" Narcissa said, changing the topic with practiced ease.

"I asked Hermione to the Manor this weekend," Draco said, "And she said yes."

Draco was hurled away from his Mother's comfort so quickly he might have received whiplash if his final destination wasn't another mountain of pillows. He lifted himself out before he was smothered to death and turned to scowl at Narcissa.

"Oh! This is just perfect! I'll have tea prepared. It will have to be at least 5 courses, and we can discuss the situation in detail and-"

"Mum!" Draco broke in hastily, "I haven't told her yet. It's a bit of a big deal to drop all that on her at once isn't it?"

Narcissa paused in her excitement, seemed to think about it, and then nodded in cautious agreement.

"I asked her if she would like to use the resources in our library. She's always researching something or other. I thought I might be able to, get to know her a bit. Become her friend?" Draco said.

"You better hide your empire of pillows then, if you don't want to be too obvious with your intent," Narcissa laughed.

"I think you're probably right about that one," Draco sniffed. He rummaged through his pocket in search of his wand, and pulled it out to start the process of levitating the plethora of pillows back to their original locations. "You won't tell Father about this, will you?"

"Your secret pillow fetish is safe with me, darling."

"Mother!"

Narcissa picked out one of the smaller pillows floating past her and threw it at him, "I don't think you should dilly dally any more than you have to. If you tell her now, she'll have more time to process it."

"I've got a plan. Now leave me to it," Draco said with a wave of his hand.

Narcissa laughed and shook her head at him. Still, she stood to leave and gave a final stroke of his head, "Good luck with it, then."

When she had left, Draco fell back once more. Only this time he wasn't met with soft pillows, but the hardwood floor. Letting out a pained groan, he rolled over to stand. Maybe he should have kept all the pillows for a little while longer after all.

...

Time leading up to Saturday felt the same as it did when Draco was a child waiting for Christmas – it seemed to simultaneously be moving rapidly and crawling all at once.

When the day finally arrived, Draco paced back and forth in front of the library's fireplace, taking glances at the grandfather clock beside it far too frequently than he'd like to admit. Hermione was five minutes late. Draco couldn't say for sure, but it seemed like it would be totally out of character for Hermione to be late to anything.

What he based this assumption on, he wasn't sure, but he was sticking with it nonetheless.

At ten past, the floo lit up with a fwoosh and spat out a rather windswept looking Hermione Granger. Instead of looking around or even acknowledging his presence, she began to pat down her clothes and hair in an attempt to make herself more presentable. Draco didn't think any amount of patting could help her now.

"Granger," Draco started. She jumped and spun to look at him.

"Oh! I didn't see you there," She said, "Sorry I'm late, I stayed late at the office last night and I might have overslept a bit."

"Its fine," Draco finished. They stood staring at each other silently until the point that it was starting to feel a little bit awkward. Draco wasn't sure what he was meant to say, and Hermione just looked like she was growing more uncomfortable with his intense staring.

"Er, so this is, the library?" Hermione asked. She tried to glance at as much of the room as she could without turning her head.

"Yes," Draco answered.

"You can get set up at any of the desks, and I'll get that cup of tea that I promised you," He waved his hand around the room without really pointing at anything. Hermione furrowed her brow at him, but went to set her bag down by the writing desk nearest the fireplace.

Draco nodded at himself when she sat down, and turned to go and make the tea before he self-combusted.

"Um, Draco?"

"Yes?"

"Could you tell me where I could find the book? I'd like to start my reading as soon as possible, it's quite a hefty tome from what I've heard."

"Oh, I'll just go grab it for you now," Draco went down one of the aisles, searching for the book. It felt oddly familiar to working at the bookstore, and he had to thank his Father for keeping the books meticulously ordered. If he had been in control, there would have been no order to how the books were kept.

Under the magical creatures section, Draco found the aging book. It was bound in a faded blue material, the sides brighter than the sun-bleached spine. There was no dust to cover it, because all the books had a simple repulsion charm placed on them.

He took the book from its spot and carried it back to Hermione. Draco dropped the book onto her desk with a thud, and looked over at her, "Now how about that tea?"

"You're very insistent about it, so I don't think I can say no," She said absently, her attention taken up by the sight of the book. Her eyes practically glowed with a greediness for knowledge.

Draco smirked, "I have a lot to prove."

Draco left Hermione alone in the library, with the door leading to the corridor open. All things considered, their first ten minutes of interaction had gone along fairly seamlessly. He walked to the kitchens without incidence, seeing neither his mother nor father in his journey. They were probably having morning tea outside, he thought.

He flicked his wand at the kettle on the stove, taking it to the sink to fill it with water, then back to the stove to heat. He went through all the familiar motions of brewing the tea for both of them, and then poured it into two of the nicest cups he could find. Once he had prepared them to his satisfaction, he returned to Hermione's side with the cups floating in tow.

The two cups gently settled on the desk. Hermione glanced up from where her finger had been following lines of text, and took the offered tea. Cradled between her hands, she lifted the warm cup to her lips and took a slight sip.

"I must concede," she said, "This truly is a lovely cup of tea. The perfect temperature, even."

He tried not to outwardly preen at the compliment, masking it with a haughty look and an 'I told you so'. He used his wand to summon a chair to the other side of the desk, and sat down.

"So what are you researching?" He asked.

"I thought it would be obvious. Centaur relations," She said as she spread the old book out, careful to keep her teacup at some distance to avoid a tragic accident.

"So this is just a new avenue to expand your knowledge?"

"Well, no," Hermione conceded, "I'm sure you know that any attempt at negotiations with centaurs are almost always tense, if not counter-productive. Lately, there have been more confrontations ending in minor to serious injuries in known Centaur home ranges, and while I would prefer if wizards would just leave well enough alone and let them be, that's unlikely to happen."

Even with her nose buried in a book she seemed to be able to carry on an intelligent conversation in a way most people couldn't when they devoted their entire attention to it. Draco found this to be far more attractive than he expected, but that seemed to be happening a lot lately.

"I'm hoping that my research will help create a method in which wizards can approach Centaur herds without causing offense, so that there can be open negotiations or at least a diminished risk of injury for both parties involved."

"I can see how that would be beneficial to the Ministry," Draco replied, leaning forward to get a closer look at the freckles on her nose.

"For the Ministry yes, but also for travellers. Wizards seem to have an uncanny ability of picking the worst possible destinations for their camping trips when it comes to magical creature relations," She tucked one of her many curls behind her ear and looked up at him for a second.

"I'm surprised you're wanting to hear all this," Hermione said. She took a sip of her tea during her pause.

"You might not remember, but I was still second to you at school. I have a few brain cells that liked to be stretched on occasion," Draco said with a small smile. His heart fluttered when he saw her smile back.

The comfortable silence between them was broken by the soft wrap of knuckles against a wooden door, and both Hermione and Draco turned in the direction of the sound. There, Narcissa Malfoy stood waiting, her neck craned to peek into the room. When she deemed the coast was clear, she opened the door fully.

Narcissa bustled through the doors, draped in pale blues and a smile that lit up her face. "Miss Granger, how lovely to see you."

"Oh, um, it's lovely to see you as well, Mrs Malfoy," Granger answered, looking suitably bewildered.

"Mother, Granger is here to put our extensive library to good use."

"And how are you enjoying our library? Has anything taken your fancy yet?" Narcissa asked.

"Actually, Granger is researching the family dynamics of Celtic centaurs," Draco answered.

Hermione visibly perked up at the idea of discussing her research once more, and she continued on from Draco's explanation, "I believe that a greater understanding of the historic practices and relationship patterns of centaurs would benefit greatly with our current negotiations with them. You see, the Celtic language and culture spread throughout much of Europe, and I believe there was far less secularism between groups then n-"

"Yes dear, that's sound's very fascinating," Narcissa smiled at her. Hermione stopped in her tracks and began to flush across her cheeks and neck. Draco watched avidly as she hid her embarrassment behind her tea cup.

"I get a little carried away sometimes," Hermione mumbled into her cup. He wondered if she felt particularly shunted after the attention she had received from him only minutes before.

"Draco, could I have a quick word with you in private?" Narcissa asked, pointing away to the door.

"Of course, Mother."

Once they left the library, Draco gently closes the door over. He turned to look at his mother and asked, "Everything alright?"

"Yes, dear. I was just wondering how you were coping. I know it can be rather, frustrating being in close vicinity with your un-bonded mate," She said, clasping her hands together.

Draco thought about the way the sun beams from the windows cast a warm gold halo around the frizz of her hair, or the way that her warm skin would contrast so well against his porcelain hand. Or the way that her dark eyelashes brushed her cheeks every time she blinked.

While he was captivated, he felt completely at peace with it too. So he shrugged and replied, "It's fine, so far. I'm just trying to get to know her first."

Narcissa gave him a frank look, then glanced at the door behind his back, "You'll need to tell her eventually, you know that."

"Of course I do, but dropping it now when we've barely talked to each other in years would be the worst possible choice to make," He said sarcastically, "Can you imagine how that would go? Oh hey Hermione, I forgot to mention before I invited you here that I'm actually a Veela. Since I know you're all about magical creature rights and all that, I thought you'd be all for becoming my life long bonded mate without much fuss."

"I'm just worried you'll avoid it for as long as possible, and prolong your suffering," She said, and reached out to grab his hands, "I know what you're like."

A coward, Draco thought. Too gutless to even improve his own wellbeing. No. Draco refused to do that this time, not for this. But this wasn't something he could jump into, he had to take a level of care that Narcissa wasn't letting him take.

"I'll prolong it for as long as I have to," Draco said. "Please Mother, just leave me be and let me do what I have to do, as I see fit."

"The sooner she finds out she's your mate, the better off you'll be. Both of you," Narcissa pushed.

"Malfoy, what is she talking about?"

Draco spun around to see Hermione standing at the open doors of the library. Her hands were balling into fists at her side, her spine straightened. Her warm brown eyes suddenly looked cold as they stared directly into his very soul.

Fear set in, and before his very eyes flashed a future filled with misery, loneliness and no sex. Granger's expression was getting darker the longer he stayed silent.

"Hermione, I… I didn't want to drop this on you all at once. I wanted to ease you into the idea," He tried to reason, but she had already turned around to leave.

"You needn't drop anything on me at all! Here I was thinking that you really did just want to mend bridges or, or you were actually interested in my research!" She huffed. She started to stuff her utensils back into her bag, and closed the book with more force than necessary.

Draco wanted to reach out and grab her arm to stop her from leaving, but he wasn't sure what would happen if he did.

"Please, Hermione," He pleased, "I thought this would make you happy. Forget what you heard what my Mother say. None of that matters, I really do want to get to know you better."

"Really? You want to get to know me better? Can you honestly tell me that is I wasn't your… your 'Veela Mate' you would be doing this?" She asked, her hands pressed deep against her hips.

He couldn't answer that question. He knew that she was right, and that if it wasn't for blasted biology they would never have become more than passing acquaintances. Just the book store boy and the girl with the undying thirst for knowledge.

She sighed and turned to pick up her bag, "That's what I thought. Thank you for letting me use your library, but I won't be coming back."

She grabbed the floo powder and was gone before Draco could even call out her name. He fell to his knees in front of the fire place, his hands outstretched like claws. So this is what it felt like to have his heart torn out before he even had the chance to give it to her.

"Draco, I'm so sorry," Narcissa whispered. He felt her arms surround him and stroke through his hair and wipe away the tears he didn't realise were there, but something about the tone of her voice felt insincere.

"You can fix this, love. I know you can."

He could fix this, but he wished he didn't have to. Sometimes, Draco didn't think he would ever understand the choices and actions his Mother made when it came to his life.

...

The world felt grey and broken. At work, Draco had to play off his sniffles as hay fever, even though his fragile heart felt like it had started to crumble. Hermione didn't turn up at the bookstore, which wasn't unusual but rationality didn't make him feel any better.

Each day faded into the next, but Draco continued to go through the motions of his day to day life robotically. By the middle of the week, Draco was truly exhausted. He spent every spare moment he wasn't helping a customer with his eyes closed, trying to catch a spare second of rest. When the post-lunchtime lull hit and the rush of customers trickled down, Draco dropped his face to the counter with a whimper. If any remaining customer turned to look and wonder what was wrong with him, he couldn't tell. It's not like he had much of a reputation to lose anymore.

The bell above the door jingled as another customer entered the store. He could hear the clack-clack of their heels upon the hardwood floor, but Draco's lack of will to live meant that even his desire to keep his job could not give him the energy to lift his head.

"I'm very annoyed with you right now," A feminine voice called out, and for a split second Draco's mood soared until he realised that the heavy, floral perfume that surrounded the woman did not smell anything like Hermione. That, and the voice was just a touch too snobby to be her.

He tilted his head up an inch to look in the direction of the door, but his vision was blocked by a bodice made of expensive looking silk that had probably been hand embroidered by house elves. His eyes followed up her body until he was greeted with the sight of slick, black hair and a slightly puggish nose.

"Oh. It's you." Draco said. His face turned back so his nose was squished into the wood once more.

"So," Pansy snipped, "Not only do you completely forget our Wednesday lunch together, but you're not even happy to see me. Why am I friends with you again?"

Draco groaned heavily and lifted his body from his slumped position of defeat. "I'm sorry, Pans. I just haven't been feeling great this last week. It completely slipped my mind that today was Wednesday."

Pansy rolled her eyes. She turned around so she could perch herself on the front desk, and gave him a frank look, "You're always in a mood Draco, but this is different. What's happened?"

"I had a… 'date' on the weekend, but it turned into a complete and utter disaster," Draco answered miserably.

Pansy swatted him over the head, causing Draco to squawk in indignation. "You go on a date with a girl without consulting me first? Of course it was a disaster! Do you remember our first date? You took me to the quidditch pitch, Draco. Quidditch. Where did you take this one?"

"The library in the Manor," Draco mumbled.

"The library!" Pansy shouted, "What is she, some old biddy with 50 kneazles? Don't treat a girl like she's Hermione Granger."

"Actually…"

"No," Pansy groaned, "You asked Granger out on a date? What is wrong with you! Well, now I know why it was such a disaster, you two used to fight like cats and dogs back in school, all our blood prejudice aside. What in Merlin's name made you want to date her?"

Well, probably his biological imperative that drove him to want to kiss and cuddle and have many, many little curly haired babies with her. Not that Draco was going to tell Pansy that. Instead, Draco muttered something out about her being rather pretty and very smart.

"There are plenty of pretty and smart girls out there. You didn't need to pick that one," Pansy said with a frown. This did not make Draco feel any better, for more reasons than the obvious one.

"No, I didn't. But it felt right in the moment and I just…went for it," He replied, thinking back on how she looked in the bookshop a little more than a week ago now. He'd probably never see that again now.

In his daydreaming state, he didn't notice Pansy's watchful eyes analysing him.

"You really like her, don't you?" Draco nodded sadly in response.

Pansy huffed out a breath and brushed her lustrous black hair back from her face. A look of resigned determination came over her, "Well then, I'm just going to have to help you get her back. Not that you ever had her to begin with… Whatever."

Clapping her hands together, Pansy jumped off the counter and her feet landed with another loud clack on the ground, "Right then. Let's get started, shall we?"

"Pans, I'm at work," Draco said.

"Work, schmurk. Nothing's more important than love. Except maybe money," Pansy grinned.

Draco wasn't sure if he could trust Pansy with anything as serious as his entire future happiness, but at this point he had no other hopes of finding his way back to Hermione's good side.

"Fine, what do you have in mind?"

Thank you for all your support so far! Your comments always make me smile and get me writing.