Lost
Author: Felicity Gemfiar
Rating: G
Genre: Romance
Pairing: Draco/Hermione
Disclaimer: All characters, names, associations, and the world of Hogwarts belong to J.K. Rowling and her corporate people. This is purely for entertainment purposes without any generated revenue.
Summary: Draco asks Hermione a question.
She stood at the terrace railing, watching the sunset. Purples and oranges tossed about among blues and reds supported by clouds of green trees splayed themselves before her. The breeze ruffled her caramel locks and teased at the hem of her sea foam summer dress. Standing just behind her left shoulder, he could see everything: her perfectly formed physique, the strength in her shoulders, the love in her eyes, the determination of her jaw, the brilliance in her mind.
She thought he looked at the expanse of the Gardens below, dotted here and there with splashes of colour. But he'd seen them, been in them, a million times. He lived here, for Merlin's sake.
The breeze picked up again and sent a warm shiver down her spine. That spine was tailored of steel, of that he could vouch for. They'd gone through so much together. From hatred to friendship, from friendship to relationship, from relationship to lovers; now he was to take the next step.
He'd always remember that day she hit him, in their third year. Things started to change then. Taunting her became the only way he could find to magnify her faults: bossiness, too clever, emotional, plain, impure… But her faults made her more magnetic, more desirable. Her faults exemplified her beauty; he couldn't get enough of her.
Then they were thrown together during the war, making charms and potions, elixirs and ointments for those who were injured. They both shared a passion for medicine. It was there, in those cabbage-stench rooms, that she insulted him to the core, forced him to question his values, examine his life, and find himself wanting. She changed him for the better. Friendship bloomed once he stopped his bigoted outlook on society, once he began to open his heart to her.
From that moment, he was lost. Nothing could have prevented him from caring for her, from taking her in his arms and kissing the breath right out of her lungs when the news of Lord Voldemort's demise reached them. No one could have convinced him not to escort her to the formal Ministry Ceremony and have his breath stolen at the sight of her dazzling beauty in the green silk gown.
Not one person could have stopped him from loving her utterly, and so completely that it brought tears to his eyes.
He trailed his fingertips down her arm to entwine his hand with hers. She smiled in contentment and turned to him. He caught her honey gaze and poured all his love into his silver eyes.
"Draco, what is it?"
His other hand cupped her cheek and he smiled lovingly.
"I love you. With every fibre of my being," he kissed her fingers, holding her gaze. "Without you, I would still be adrift in a sea of emptiness," wrapping his arms around her waist, he held her close. "You tell me I'm strong and clever; you say I'm true, and loving; you believe I'm one of a kind," his lips brushed hers, a brief fleeting kiss. "I may not see it, but I try to be that kind of man, because you love me like I am."
Her arms slid up to his shoulders as tears gathered in her eyes.
"Hermione," Draco produced a deep green velvet box. She took it from his grasp as he bent on a knee and became lost in her eyes. "Will you marry me?"