A/N : Okay, just a little warning before you proceed. This story was written on a whim because I'm completely writer's blocked on Deal With It...I was just sitting there, listening to this song by the Jonas Brothers, when inspiration struck. I'm not a big fan of songfics, so I didn't write it as one, but it IS inspired by that song, so there you are. It may seem a bit rushed, but that's because it was.

Oh, and just so you know, this is VERY DIFFERENT from my usual writing style. I've had two people tell me it was weird. I don't need to hear it from you, as well. :D If you like it, you like it, and PLEASE tell me about it. But absolutely NO FLAMES are allowed. :smiles sweetly: You could actually go and listen to the song this is based on, if you like. It might set the mood or something, lol. :)

Wizarding London hadn't seen head nor tail of the Malfoy family since the war ended. Some thought they had been secretly disposed of by the last few loyal supporters of You-Know-Who. Some thought they were carted off to Azkaban without trial. Most, however, thought they had just run away at the first possible chance.

The last explanation was the closest to the truth.

In reality, the surviving members of the Order, after the end of the final battle, had arranged for at least the youngest Malfoy and his mother to be placed under their protection. (The elder Malfoy was, indeed, carted back off to Azkaban without further trial, but that is another story, and one we won't bother with here.)

It turns out that "being under the protection of the Order of the Phoenix" really means being shipped out of the country and given new lodgings and told to "keep your head down" for a while.

While this may have been fine for Narcissa Malfoy – who wanted nothing more that a few decades of a peaceful, Lucius-free existence in Spain – but this did not suit her son at all.

In fact, they had barely been at their new residence a fortnight before he stole away in the dead of the night, leaving only a note explaining that he'd gone to seek adventure elsewhere, and for his mother to please not worry.

To those of you who have read a certain series of books written by the esteemable lady by the name of J.K. Rowling, this may seem like quite an out-of-character thing for Draco Malfoy to do. But you see, the war had changed him, as it had many others.

He was still a far cry from what you and I would call grown-up, but he was no longer the whiny, spoiled child he'd been when we first met him all those years ago. The things he'd witnessed and the things he'd done during the time of the war had made him quite restless and unable to settle down into a quiet life of hiding out with his mother.

So he became a bit of an adventurer, if you will. Maybe that's not the best word to describe him. Sort of an explorer, then. He wanted to see the world with his own two eyes; he was tired of always believing everything he'd ever been told and he wanted to find out for himself (Which, by the way, was a very wise thing for him to do).

He traveled to many places and witnessed a great many wonderful and remarkable things which would take far too long to write down here. And in the process, he learned a great deal, which is far more important.

He learned that people, despite upbringing or even (this came as a great shock to him at the time) magical ability, were really essentially the same. Most people in this world are hard-working, honest people who just want to do the best they can for their families and their neighbors. There is evil in this world, but there is also good. And this was what really changed Draco.

As you very well know by now (especially if you've been reading many of these kinds of stories), Draco didn't grow up in a house where a lot of good things happened. There is a good deal of speculation as to what kinds of things actually happened inside that house, but we shall try not to think about it just now. After all, it couldn't be a very nice place he lived in to produce such a horrible child as Draco was on his first day at Hogwarts.

So as you can imagine, the idea that there is, indeed, a lot of good in this world surprised him so much that when he realized it, he laughed and laughed until all his companions thought he'd gone mad. Really, he was just so relieved that not everyone was like the people he'd known his whole life that he couldn't help but laugh.

When he'd finished laughing, he stood up, brushed himself off, and decided he might go visit his mother for a while. After all, it had been two and a half years since he'd last seen her.

So he did. He got in a little wooden cart that was pulled by a mule (he was very far out in the middle of nowhere by now), then into an extremely dirty bus that transported him into the nearest town, then onto a train that took him to another city, and so forth and so on. His travels back to his mother could fill a few pages by themselves, and he met many interesting people along the way and had more adventures.

But we will skip all of that for now, since this is supposed to be a short story, and the adventures he had along the way would fill a small book. Now, you may be wondering why he didn't just Apparate straight to his mother's side. Well, you see, the reason is that during Draco's adventuring, he had learned, among many other things, that magic wasn't always the best way of doing things.

Narcissa was overjoyed to see her son and welcomed him back with open arms.

It had now been three years since the fall of You-Know-Who, and Narcissa was beginning to think of visiting some relatives and old friends in London, specifically at a party that one of her cousins was throwing the next weekend.

Now, I must stop and explain that in the course of the past three years, Draco had been looking for more than adventure. He wanted to find a home.

He wanted more than anything else in the world to find someplace where he was accepted just the way he was, not what he might accomplish or what he might become, but for who he was, flaws and all. Yet in all his travels, he hadn't been able to find it.

The place in the world where Draco would feel least at home at that moment was London, he knew. But his mother insisted he attend the party, and all his best arguments didn't stand against hers. In the end, she won out.

So now, at this very moment, Draco was standing in the corner of a room full of people, watching as they chattered and danced, and was generally feeling rather uncomfortable and wishing he could escape. He was feeling extremely sorry for himself as he watched a young couple dancing nearby.

The girl was dressed in a beautiful, brightly colored dress, and she had a rose in her hair. She was smiling up at her dance partner, a young man who looked as if he'd never had a hard day in his life, and they were talking in whispers. Suddenly, the girl laughed, and the youth bent his head down and stopped her laugh with his lips on hers.

Draco's heart gave a pang and he realized that he'd probably never have that. Not that simple, free love that he saw right before him. He used to dream that one day he'd have something like that, but he'd long since given that dream up. He was broken. No one would have him, anyway; no matter how far away he got, the reputation of his family seemed to follow him. There were a million reasons why no girl should want him. He reasoned that he probably didn't deserve love, anyway.

He turned his back on the shining, happy couple, and made his way around the wall of the room, trying to avoid the whispers and glances as people recognized who he was.

He decided that he'd had enough of this, and began scanning the room for his mother. He wanted nothing more than to get out of that place, but he had to at least tell her he was leaving. Then he would leave London and never return for as long as he lived.

His eyes stopped short when a pair of deep brown eyes locked onto his. If the girl hadn't looked up at just the right moment he would never have seen her, but now he couldn't wrench his eyes away.

Of course he recognized her right away. You don't go to school with somebody for six years and then fight on opposite sides from them in the war of the century and forget them. It was Hermione Granger.

She seemed unable to look away as well. It was as if (if you'll pardon the expression) someone had cast a spell upon them. Draco's heart sped up, although he couldn't quite explain why, and he felt suddenly as if he should go over to her. It made absolutely no sense, him going over there, but he couldn't help himself.

In a few moments, he had crossed the room and was standing right in front of her. She was wearing a white dress, he noticed vaguely, but he never got a proper look because he found himself unable to look away from her eyes. Her hair was pulled back and curls fell around her face.

She smiled. Draco didn't say a word, just held out his hand to her, silently asking her to dance. He was sure that if he spoke, the spell would be broken. Hermione took his hand, and he led her onto the dance floor.

The music changed suddenly, and the band began to play a slow waltz. The world melted away and there was nothing but them and the music.

Draco felt a peace wash over him that he'd never known before. It was as if, while he was dancing with her, looking into her eyes, everything was all right. He felt, for the first time in his life, like he was right where he was supposed to be, doing exactly what he was supposed to be doing.

In no time at all, it seemed, the song was over, and the sound of everyone clapping for the band caused them to break eye contact and look around. The spell was broken, and when Draco looked up again, Hermione had disappeared into the crowd.

The aftermath of that dance with Hermione was like coming down from a drug for Draco. Everything seemed pale in comparison.

As much as he tried to tell himself that he didn't care if he ever saw her again or not, he knew it was no use.

Some of you probably don't believe in love at first sight. Draco didn't either. But this wasn't first sight, or even second sight. It wasn't anything like that. But it was true that Draco found that he couldn't stop thinking about her.

But he didn't know anything about her anymore. He didn't even know where she worked. He wasn't even sure that she still had the same friends. And the more he asked about her, the less he seemed to know.

Before the party that night, no one had seen her for about a year. She had returned to Hogwarts after the end of the war to finish out her seventh year of school, but after that, she seemed to have disappeared. So even if he wanted to look for her, he had no idea where to start.

Over the next few weeks, he had almost given up hope of ever seeing her again. He had taken to wandering the streets of London, not really looking for her, or for anything in particular, really. Just…wandering.

One day he was walking, and thinking to himself that he might just give up completely and go back to being an adventurer. At least then, he reasoned, he would have some sort of purpose to his life, instead of this aimless wandering and pining for a girl that, if he didn't know any better, might not exist at all.

At this exact moment he turned a corner and ran headlong into a young woman, who had been carrying a bag of groceries. When he regained his balance, he saw that he had actually knocked her over, and she was trying to stand up as she adjusted the wide brimmed hat she was wearing and clutching the hopelessly ripped grocery bag. The contents of the bag were strewn across the sidewalk.

"Oh, I'm so sorry miss, let me help you," Draco said, grabbing her elbow to steady her and help her to her feet.

"No, really, it's my fault, I wasn't watching where I was going," the girl mumbled. Draco couldn't see her expression, for the brim of her hat was so wide that it obscured her face, but she sounded annoyed. He could understand. He'd be annoyed, too, if he'd been walking home, minding his own business, when some stranger made him drop his groceries all over the sidewalk.

Right, the groceries.

He stooped and began to gather the various items into his arms, and the girl did the same.

"No, I've got it, really," she said, reaching for a bag of apples just as Draco did. Their hands brushed. Draco looked up at the same time the girl did, and he couldn't believe it.

"Hermione?"

For it was her, after all. There, kneeling in the middle of the sidewalk with her ripped grocery bag in one hand and a loaf of bread in the other, was Hermione Granger.

She looked up suddenly, and their eyes met.

Draco swallowed hard. Seconds passed, or maybe it was hours. Still holding the bag of apples, and with her still clutching the bag and bread, they stood up together, never breaking eye contact.

After days of standing there, rooted to the spot, someone on the far-away sidewalk of reality jostled Draco, causing him to stumble and look away for the smallest of seconds. But it was enough.

The spell was broken again, and Hermione was saying something as she lifted the bag of apples from his grasp. Draco shook his head to clear it and looked at her again.

"…so thank you again, but I must be going now – "

"Can I walk you home?" Draco asked, almost before realizing what he was saying. Hermione looked up at him, obviously surprised, and nodded slightly. Draco lifted the torn bag of groceries from her hands, being careful not to let any of them fall through the nasty tear in its side as he did so.

They turned together and walked, with Hermione guiding the way, down the sidewalk in the direction Draco had just come. They didn't say anything, just walked in comfortable silence through the bustling city streets.

Draco had begun to wonder if Hermione lived on the moon, they walked for such a long way. But finally she turned and began walking up the short flight of steps leading to an apartment building, and he suddenly felt like he might have enjoyed for that walk to have gone on forever. Before he could think another thought, he realized she was taking her groceries back from him and turning to get in the elevator.

He knew he couldn't let her get away again; she might disappear forever if he let her out of his sight. He deliberately followed her as she stepped onto the elevator, ignoring her surprised expression as she pressed the button and the doors shut in front of them.

He followed her down the hall and to a humble-looking door with a not-so-shiny golden 4-B nailed to it. She fumbled in her pockets for a key for a moment, and then she had it in one hand while she held the other out for him to shake.

This was his last chance, he thought with slight alarm, and he quickly looked up to find her eyes. She was studiously looking away, as if she knew what would happen if she met his gaze. He chuckled, and she seemingly forgot to not look at him, her eyes flitting up to his, only too late remembering what would happen, and probably not caring that she'd forgotten in the first place.

Draco felt the same peace wash over him that he'd felt during the Dance they'd shared at the party he was now eternally grateful his mother had dragged him to. Again, he felt as if he were in the exact right moment at the exact right time.

If you've never felt that feeling, it's difficult to explain. Imagine being completely sure that you were supposed to be sitting right there, right now, reading this story, and knowing beyond a shadow of a doubt that no matter what else is going on in the world, that at least you're doing what you're supposed to be doing. The world could end, and you'd be satisfied. Well, that's how Draco felt.

He felt that he glimpsed a bit of paradise as he stared into her eyes. Before he realized what was happening, his hand was on her cheek, then tucking the hair behind her ear, and their faces were quite close, and then his lips were on hers and they crashed together; arms they hadn't realized were around each other pulled tighter and tighter, until you couldn't tell where one ended and the other began.

Heaven exploded in Draco's veins. That's the only way to describe it. All he could think about was never letting her go; he would stand there in that hallway until the building crumbled away, if only he never had to let her go again.

I suppose I could stop here and say that they lived happily ever after. It would be quite true, except in the literal sense, since no one really lives happily ever after. They probably came closer to doing it than anyone else had ever done before them, though, but I can't stop here anyway, since there is a bit more story to be told.

Do you remember how Draco had always been looking for a home? Well, he found it in Hermione, and she found hers in him. For the first time since the war, Draco felt that he didn't have to hang his head in shame; he felt proud of who he was when he was with Hermione. He felt that he could do anything, as long as he had her by his side.

He realized that he didn't care what anyone else thought of him; as long as she loved him, that was all he needed.

And as they stood together under the clear blue sky five months later, surrounded by their family and friends, he looked into her eyes and said,

"When I hold you in my arms, I feel complete, and I know that I never want that feeling to end. When I look at you, I'm home. I want this to be forever. I love you," he finished, slipping the ring onto her finger amidst much cheering and applause.

A bird began singing in a nearby tree. Flowers burst into bloom when he pulled her to him and kissed her, his best friend, his reason for living, and now, officially, his wife.

And that was the beginning.