"Mate .’ it said simply and faded into the back of his head. He shivered again, licking his fingertips, almost tasting her. A mate, he knew what the word meant, but he didn’t think a demon had that kind of thing. That was reserved for Veelas and sometimes werewolves. His body stiffened as he recalled the Veelas from the Quidditch world cup. It wasn’t possible, Hermione was not an unearthly beauty, she didn’t transform. Now he really needed to visit his ancestor. What did it mean to be a mate to Hermione? Did it mean she required him? She loved Weasley, he couldn’t, Draco raised his hand and bit into the back of his hand. Draco couldn’t ever find any shred of feeling for himself in her heart. She was with the redhead. She may require him to eat her energy, but she would never love him. 