Author's notes: Dedicated to Crystalline Temptress, for her birthday! Hehe, she asked us to write a story including Draco and Hermione kissing under a trellis of wisteria. We already know she loves it, so we hope all of you do too!
Disclaimer: All things related to Harry Potter belong to J.K. Rowling. Ralph, however, was invented by the shippers aboard the S.S. Leather and Libraries.
Draco sat beside the bed, noticing absently that his wife looked almost lost in a bed so big. He pushed a few locks of her brown hair away from her forehead and frowned. Two days ago she had been burning with fever, now she was cold… almost as cold as death. He hated it. He hated that she was dying.
It was almost impossible to accept her situation. To him, she had always been strong, indestructible. Now she was weak and frail, barely able to stay awake for more than a few minutes at a time. How much longer could she last? The Healer had said that her sickness resulted in a slow death, and that she would probably remain in that state for a week or more. Draco didn't know if he liked that or not.
There was a knock on the door, and Draco turned to see his only son stick his head in. "Father," Ralph said, "you should get some rest. I'll watch over Mother."
Draco shook his head. "I won't be able to sleep anyway. And besides, I slept yesterday. I'll call you when I want to sleep again."
Ralph looked like he was about to argue, but he just nodded and left.
Sighing, Draco rubbed his tired eyes. His body was tired, but his mind was not. He wished he could just crawl into bed beside Hermione, fall asleep, and wake up to find her better. But he hadn't slept in their bed for days, for several reasons. A few days ago the main reason had been because her fever was so high that it was uncomfortable to be beside her for long. Then when her temperature dropped suddenly, it had been because she was so weak that Draco couldn't bring himself to disturb her even by sleeping next to her. Now, it was because he knew he wouldn't be able to sleep no matter what he tried.
Draco stood and headed to the window. It was dark outside, and the snow was falling. Through the darkness he could barely make out the trees in the garden, and he couldn't even see the gate at the front of their property.
As he looked upon the grounds, he wondered how they would fare without Hermione. She loved the gardens, and she always took care of them. Hiring a few extra house elves seemed to Draco like an insult to Hermione's memory. But he didn't have the interest or the ability to maintain the grounds. Well, he would deal with that after… after she was gone.
A certain section of the garden caught his attention, and he strained his eyes to see the trellis, which, due to the season, wasn't covered with the wisteria that usually decorated it. He gazed at it from the room, and in his mind, he saw the garden in full bloom, the sky without a cloud in sight, the trellis that was covered with wisteria hanging right above their heads, and the people standing behind himself and Hermione.
"I do," he heard Hermione say, softly but firmly. And Draco remembered turning to her, grinning at her, holding her, kissing her…
"Wait," the priest had interrupted. "I pronounce you man and wife. Now you may kiss the bride."
Giggling, Hermione had wrapped her arms around him. "It's all right," she whispered to her very red husband. "It's all right." And she kissed his lips gently, until all of his embarrassment was gone.
Draco sighed and turned away from the window, returning to his wife's bedside. He took her hand, trying to warm it with his own. "Hermione," he whispered to her, bending over her, "what will we do without you?"
Hesitantly, he kissed her cheek, then her lips. Her cheek, which used to be so rosy, was now so pale, and her lips, once so soft, were now chapped and dry. Her eyes fluttered open, and even they had lost their sparkle. But not their love… Draco could see her feelings for him burning just as brightly as on the day they married.
"Draco," she whispered, her featherlike grasp on his hand tightening just slightly, "it will be all right. It will be all right."
