A/N: This idea came to me out of nowhere so I just wrote it down. I may just begin a collection of Dramione drabbles. Hope you enjoy. Please Review!
Her eyes shone in the moonlight. They glittered as if the starts resided there rather than merely reflecting from their position in the darkened sky. The brown of her irises gleamed with a mixture of mischief, anticipation, and desire.
He couldn't take his eyes off of her. She was breathtaking. Her hair flew restlessly in the wind; her clothes were disheveled; and her lips were quirked in a teasing smile. He had no idea how she could look completely beautiful while leaving him, but she did. He wanted desperately to grab her hand and beg her to never leave, to never let him go. Despite his pride and reservations, he did just that.
"Don't go," he pleaded anxiously. "Don't leave me." He looked deeply into the eyes that he had come to adore and winced. The desire that had resided in her orbs mere seconds before was gone now and replaced with irritation. He was annoying her, he knew, with his blatant despondency. He knew his best chance was to simply let her go, his only option really, but he couldn't. He wouldn't. He refused to live the rest of his life without her by his side.
"Don't make this harder than it already is," she scolded while removing her hand from his grasp. "Don't make this any more difficult than it already has to be." She stepped away from him, wrapping her arms around herself to prevent the breakdown she frantically held within.
"Just – Hermione, please." He quickly moved to her side. He ran a hand through his already messy platinum blond hair. He had never begged for anything before, other than perhaps his mother's safety during the reign of Voldemort. Malfoys were never supposed to beg. Yet here he stood, atop Big Ben on a cool autumn night, begging and pleading with the girl he loved. If his father knew of this secret rendezvous he would certainly be in even less favor, perhaps ever disowned completely and cast aside. But none of that mattered to him anymore. He would do anything to have this gorgeous witch by his side.
The woman sighed resignedly. She knew he was the type of man who refused to give up. He would always get what he wanted, one way or another, and Hermione just happened to be what he wanted. He would never stop chasing her until she gave in to him. But she just couldn't be with him. Not anymore. There were too many obstacles; too much had happened between them in the past. What would her parents say? They would surely despise him for what he had said and done in the past. And what would they think of their daughter loving such a man?
"We can't, Draco." Her voice was strained. He knew he had her.
"Hermione, please, listen to me. My status means nothing to me anymore." She turned away from him, determined to not fall for his words, but he stepped around to face her again. He chanced placing a hand on her cheek and smiled when she didn't slap him or pull away. "We're perfect for each other. You can't deny that we have chemistry between us, an undeniable spark that you've never felt with anyone else."
The brunette witch remained silent. She knew she couldn't argue with that. He was right. There was an undeniable spark between them ever since their first meeting on that fateful day at the Quidditch Pitch.
It was a ridiculous idea to entertain, their being together. Hermione admittedly knew even thinking such a thing was dangerous and illogical. She understood that she shouldn't be feeling this way about him: Ex Death Eater ferret boy, the foul and loathsome Draco Lucius Malfoy. There were more lives involved than just her own. She had Harry and the Weasleys, her second family, to think about. She couldn't afford to be so selfish. But she yearned to be.
Her heart sang whenever he touched her. Her brain turned to pathetic mush whenever he kissed her. Her skin burned with electricity whenever he brushed his fingers against it. He made her feel more alive than she'd ever been simply by being in her vicinity.
Draco waited patiently as the woman of his dreams sorted through the myriad that was her thoughts and feelings. He watched silently as emotion flitted across her features in short bursts: dismay, determination, desire, confusion, love, and then finally settling on resignation. He couldn't decide if that was a good thing for him or not.
"What is it?"He panicked when she once again turned away from him. "What's wrong?" Perhaps resignation was a bad thing after all.
"I love you, Draco," she replied, scarily unemotional for such a large statement. "You're everything I've ever needed in my life." She paused and Draco knew a "But" was inevitable.
"Go on," he said tiredly, already feeling utterly defeated, "say it."
Hermione sighed but complied. "But we can't be together. It would be too selfish of me to ask so much of you. We'd have to contend with the public opinion, my friends and family, your friends and family…"
"I swear to you that I don't give a damn about what my friends or family think. I could not care less about the public's opinion at this point. If they truly care about me, than they will accept that I love you beyond everything."
"You say that now, but will you feel the same way later on?" Hermione pressed on before Draco could respond. "You can't accurately predict how you will act in the future, Draco. No one can."
"I may not be able to promise you forever, but I can promise you today, tomorrow, and every other day you'll have me."
Reluctantly Hermione found herself moved by the impassioned plea of the man before her. His eyes gleamed with sincerity that the witch had never seen before. His body language was lax, vulnerable. He was giving himself to her, completely, willingly. How could she possibly refuse? It was bad enough she was a Gryffindor through and through; selflessness and compassion flowed through her veins. The fact that she was also in love with the blond Slytherin was of no help either.
Her internal war waged fiercely for a few moments more. She knew fighting her feeling was senseless, futile even, because she already knew which side would win. Draco would always win.
"Despite my strongest logic advising against it, I find myself believing you. I know letting myself feel for you completely will most likely only lead to disaster," Hermione admitted, "But I just can't deny you any longer."
Draco smiled softly, resisting the urge to grin and shout like an idiot as he so direly wished to. He had just won his witch and there was no way he would scare her off already.
"I will not disappoint you," he vowed.
Hermione still remained stand-offish, leaning away from him, and Draco decided he would no longer have any of that. He remedied the situation by pulling her into his arms.
Hermione tensed for the slightest of moments before relaxing in his arms. It felt amazing to let go for once. To just forget the consequences and allow her heart to lead her. The mere thought of not caring was foreign to her, even if it was only for a moment, but it felt so… good and freeing to not analyze every possible result of her actions. She felt herself melt even more into the safety and serenity Draco's embrace provided for her.
"I love you, my stubborn witch," he whispered into her bushy mane of curls.
Hermione fondly rolled her eyes, she snuggled further into his chest and sighed contentedly before responding with, "And I you, my slimy Slytherin."
A/N: Funny story, this story was initially going to be Draco mourning Hermione's death. But I just couldn't write a tragedy so it turned into this.
Thoughts? Prompts? Suggestions?