A Taste of Heaven.

Author's Note: ... in reply to hondagirl's First Love forum. Based on the line "You Don't Marry Your First Love."

"Whoever loved that loved not at first sight?"
William Shakespeare.

Draco stared at Hermione, who was looking at the red-headed fool who was down on one knee. Hermione had her hands covering her mouth. He could see her shaking her head. Draco smirked. Foolish boy, proposing to someone like her. She was extraordinary, she was a star. She was Draco's star. He could her, "No, Ronald!" It was music to Draco's ears.

The truth was, Draco had loved her since he was a small eleven-year-old, pre-pubecent boy. Now, as a seventeen-year-old man, as he liked to call himself, he still loved her. And, because she was dating that red-headed dolt, he was more cruel to her. He thought Hermione was with Ron because of spite. They had been together before Hogwarts. As little four-year-olds. They were childhood sweethearts. Then, he had to stop talking to her. He was forbidden.

"But, Hermione!" Ronald Weasley groaned. Hermione stalked off in tears. Draco grabbed her hand.

"Hermione! What's wrong?" Pretending he didn't overhear that aspect of Ron and Hermione's lives.

"Ron is such a prat! Why do he want to marry me!" Hermione put her head on Draco's shoulder, sobbing into his clean, fresh robe. Draco patted her hair, whispering comforting words into her ear.

"You're amazing, 'Mio. You're beautiful, too. Who wouldn't want to marry you?"

"How about you?" Hermione sobbed, her body shaking. Draco's face paled considerably. He knew that she still loved him. Damn. And he had made her life living hell, because she tried to get over Draco by being with Ron. She loved Draco, and Draco was being a jerk. He had been a jerk since first year.

"I would want to marry you, Hermione. But we haven't dated, why would we just rush into a relationship. And, this is pretty weird now, seeing we haven't been friends for thirteen years, Draco. What are people going to think?"

"Screw them, Hermione! We could marry,and never see these people again!"

"But, Draco, you told me yourself, 'you don't marry your first love, Hermione, you just don't do it!'" Hermione mimiked. Draco laughed, a small laugh.

"And when did I say that?"

"When we were four. Remember?"

"I do." Draco smiled.

"So, let's marry!" Hermione exclaimed, agreeing with Draco. Draco laughed, and kissed her hard on the lips.

"But, Hermione, you don't marry your first love."

"Screw that rule."

And, as cliché usually states: They lived happily ever after.