Draco Malfoy smiles up at the stars that spread like twinkling freckles across the night sky. The moon looks small today; it almost looks as though it is not the fifth largest natural satellite in the Solar System, as though he can pluck the white glowing ball of minerals with two fingers and compare it to the size of his eyeball. He knows this to be false, of course. The moon is larger than he can ever imagine.
Strangely enough, knowing that particular fact comforts Draco. It warms his heart to know that there are a million things out there—beautiful things he cannot even imagine. It lets him know that he is not alone, that he can go to them for solace if he needs it, and that he has a reason for existing—to be aware of how big and beautiful everything is and to see as much of it as he can before the universe takes him back to nothingness.
First, he wishes to see all of Earth—all of its rugged rocks, tantalizing seas, and magnificent living things. To get a personal look at how impressively different everything that exists would be enough joy to sustain him for an infinite number of lifetimes.
A soft emotion seeps through his heart as he gazes upon the constellation he was named after.
It's fate, of course. How can it be a coincidence for a mother to feel it is right to name her child after a constellation and have that same child be born and gifted with a special kind of love for the stars and everything around him?
He is Draco Malfoy, and he lives and loves for the universe. That is his purpose. That is his passion. That is everything which makes him who he is.
Every person is half of a star that has fallen into a woman's womb. This means everyone is born incomplete and unholy until they become one with the other half of their star.
He has never felt incomplete before—he always thinks of himself as enough or just right. He has never questioned anyone about how he was created as there is no reason to. He knows why he was created, and that's enough.
Draco Malfoy believes in no God—gods are often too demanding of people. Instead, he believes wholeheartedly in the universe which made sure that the planet he is living on is habitable and safe and alive; which made sure that every form of life gets to live and die on this ground; and which made sure that he, a small and unimportant man, is born at the right time just to catch a glimpse of its glory.
And so, when the beautiful people around him tell him that he is an odd half of a star and his other half is somewhere around this beautiful world, he believes them. He does not think it so far-fetched when he gives thought to the ancient belief. Sure, it may be made up by their imaginative ancestors, but those ancestors are the same people that built the foundation of the modern world, and he is not so much a fool to think them a bunch of fools.
They call it soulmates now, oftentimes shortened as mates—the people who are made from the same star. No, he has never thought of himself as incomplete or halved, but he will gladly accept complete contentedness as soon as it is offered to him.
He is already content, but if he meets his mate, would it feel like leaning against the clouds and floating?
He hopes so. He's always wanted to feel the clouds beneath his fingers, and that may just be the closest thing to the real feeling.
Staring into the dark and lying on his side while darkness covers him, Draco wonders who exactly his soulmate is. Will they be a boy or a girl? Will they be an Alpha, and will he be so entranced that he hangs on to their every word? Will they be a Beta whose life is as interesting as slipping into new undiscovered territory? Will they be a Delta, and will their love be as forbidden as the affair between Venus and Mars?
Or will they be an Omega like him?
Everyone has always told him that Omegas are special—that people like him are rare and gifted—but how can that be the case when everybody who lives their respective lives differently is special by themselves? How can he be a part of the so-called Treasures when everyone should be cherished and cared for equally? How can he be classified as gifted and rare when the whole of humanity already is?
It doesn't matter, he concludes, what label his soulmate is classified into. He'll be grateful either way.
Warmth comes to him in the form of a woman—a woman who he knows belongs to the Earth. Somehow, just by taking a long look at her, he has already figured out that her feet are being held down by the ground, that she is as far to the stars as he is close to it.
A crown sits on top of her big brown curls, making her look as though she was born to have that silver metal intermingle with her hair. The golden rays of the sun fall upon her lashes and eyes, making the shade of brown seem to be a shimmering gold. Most of her skin is covered by the tight gown she wears, and he feels sorry for anybody who doesn't get to see the beauty that is her.
And a true beauty, she is. In fact, she just might be the most beautiful woman he's ever seen.
Draco's face breaks out into a wide smile even as she scowls at him, bowing his head once he remembers his manners. He is but a lesser man to her after all. And he doesn't think he deserves to even look at her. "Your Grace, is there anything I can help you with?"
"Stop that," she demands, and being the insignificant boy he is, he follows her command without another thought, staring straight into her brown eyes and not daring to look away even as his soul jumps up and down when desire dilates her pupils. "Kiss me."
And he does, leaning in and pressing his lips against hers softly. As soon as his skin makes contact with hers every part of him is set on fire, and he wants so badly to kiss her even more deeply, but—
Draco wakes up with an odd smile, staring up into his plain white ceiling. He's always said that he wants to paint an imitation of the night sky across it but never gets around to actually doing it.
Briefly wondering who the curly-haired woman is from his dream, he is quick to forget most of it. He remembers her face, though. He remembers how he felt when he kissed her. He wonders if he'll see her again—in his dreams or his reality.
Not dwelling on the thought of her too much, he sits up as his smile widens, ready to explore the world even more.
She comes to him in a chiton this time with her crazy brown hair tied back in a braided bun. She wears no crown, and her body is a lot more filled out than he remembers. Her eyes are still fierce and bright, her cheeks blushing a pretty shade of pink, and her lips still remain sweet-looking and delightful.
She raises her arms, and only then does he notice she's pointing a bow and arrow at him. He also sees that her eyes are bright because of the tears that fill them. She looks distressed. He wonders why.
"I loathe you," she shouts at him, her voice cracking with barely-hidden emotion. He feels his heart breaking at her words for an unknown reason.
He does not understand the context of what she's referring to, but he finds himself telling her in an arrogant tone, "You love me. You wouldn't have interfered in this silly war of humans I created otherwise. Those were my people Death was taking—not yours—and yet you sacrificed those who worshipped you just so my city would win the war."
Her grip on her weapon becomes uncertain and apprehensive. She sends him a glare that tells him the same things. "You used me!"
He laughs a cold and terrifying chuckle. "And you let me."
"I'll kill you," she hisses at him, her tone chilling and sizzling at the same time."You think you can kill the God of the Sun?" he drawls, rolling his eyes in a bored manner. "I know you must think it poetic for the Moon to stick an arrow to the Sun's heart, but it's simply not possible, my sweet."
An arrow of hers hits his chest. And another. And another.
Draco wakes up with a gasp, his hands reaching out as he sits up in terror. He grabs his chest with one hand absentmindedly, his palms searching for the scars that certainly aren't there.
His heart aches for a reason he does not know. The arrows didn't hurt him, but her willingness to kill him almost did. The way she looked at him with utter hate in his dream makes him feel like he's being ripped apart.
It hurts. And he doesn't know why.
She stands before him, below the white beams of the moon, nude and beautiful. He finds himself kneeling in front of her, his mouth on her, his tongue slipping between her folds, and his fingers tracing every inch of her bare skin.
She looks different tonight, with darker skin and black hair. He knows it is the same girl from his previous dreams, though, for he feels the same connection, the same appreciation, and the same… bond.
He himself looks thinner and paler, and his robes much too formal than he is accustomed to.
His tongue explores her sweet centre, and she moans a name—a different name that he still knows is his—in response.
Just as he feels her walls clamping down around his tongue, everything goes dark.
"Draco, my darling." His mother's voice replaces the moans and whimpers from his dream, cold yet affectionate. "How come you're still asleep at this hour?"
He opens his eyes wide, accepting the blinding rays of the sun as a blessing and mumbling, "Nightmares."
"Nightmares?" His mum looks curious and just a tad bit worried. "Of what kind?"
Draco sighs and pushes the duvet off his body, readying himself for another day. "The best kind."
"I trust you're alright, then?"
"Yes, Mother," he dutifully answers. "Can you please exit the room and wait in the drawing room so I can dress? Thank you."
His mother smiles at his polite tone, ever delighted whenever he shows some of the etiquette and manners she instilled in him when he was younger.
Without another word, his mother leaves through the door.
Luna Lovegood embodies the sun. She is warm, comfortable, and bright. Her long blonde curls fall down her pale skin like sunlight passing through white clouds. Her eyes are as blue as a clear sky. She is as exceptionally bizarre and overwhelming as the sun itself, so she must truly be a daughter of the hot, glowing ball in the sky.
Unlike the sun, however, Luna is often shunned by other people because of her… uniqueness. Classified as a Delta, Luna has never truly been accepted by society. He wonders why people let one word make up their whole identity. When did they begin to let these four labels define them like so?
Luna Lovegood is the only one who actually understands his love for the world. Others think he is too optimistic and that he turns a blind eye to all of the horridness of the Earth, but Luna listens to him and believes him. For that, Draco cherishes her.
"I've been having strange dreams about this one girl," he says, as though confiding in a therapist. "I haven't seen her at all before except in my dreams. I've seen her every night since… that night when I slept outside, but not in the same scenario. The first time, she was a princess, and I was a peasant boy—me, of all people! Sometimes we're ancient gods or something. Sometimes I'm a child, and she's the one taking care of me. Sometimes she's a cat. There was also this strange sequence where we were outside some castle, and she just punched me in the nose!"
Luna smiles her usual saccharine smile, going on with her ritual of picking flowers from the ground. "Peculiar, indeed."
"I think she's my mate," admits Draco, accepting the wildflowers she hands over to him. Thinking of the many faces the girl in his dreams wore, he smiles absentmindedly. "I thought of it after three weeks of dreaming of her every night. There's simply no other explanation for how I suddenly dreamt of her after mulling over the concept of soulmates. Our story must be written in the stars."
"You seem quite certain," Luna says, sweet and delicate. "Are you sure you want to go on that blind date I arranged for you?"
At first, he frowns, not understanding what she means, but he remembers what he promised her weeks ago and sighs. "Yes. I still feel bad about missing your birthday celebration."
"I wouldn't want to interfere with your mating process."
Draco glances at Luna's direction briefly before squinting at her source—at the sun, heat baptizing his face and refreshing his skin. He feels renewed every time he catches a glimpse of the sun. He feels even more comfortable in his skin. He likes to think that the sun gives him power, just as it does to the stars.
Somehow his resolve doesn't quake under her words. For some reason, he's firm in going to this blind date, and warmth spreads all over his body at the very thought of it. He takes this as a sign from the universe.
"You wouldn't be. I'm only following the stars, that's all."
Water falls from the grey clouds in the dark sky like teardrops down one's cheeks. Unlike tears, however, rain is cold, sharp, and lonesome. But while Draco appreciates the comfort in warmth, he also values the serenity that comes with a rainy day. Eager to get a feel of Earth's every gift, he almost forwent bringing an umbrella for his date today, but his mother convinced him otherwise, telling him it's simply unacceptable to appear on a date drenched through his clothes.
Looking at his wristwatch and finding that he's already 15 minutes late, he hurries over to the café where Luna said he'll meet his date.
He closes his umbrella as soon as he sets foot in the café, turning right to search for the furthest table from the door.
What he finds instead is… unexplainable.
For the first time in his life, life and movement on Earth seem to halt. His home planet seems to pause in its orbit around the sun, just so he can get a good look at the most beautiful form of life ever created.
The people who fill the quaint café with lively noise seem to quiet down, and all he can hear is how her heart beats in the same rhythm as his when he entered through the doors and how even her breaths seem to fall in sync with the way he sighs in relief as soon as he realizes she is real.
His eyes quickly search for the rose in her hand, and when he finds it red and alive, unadulterated happiness surges through his soul. Luna said his date would be bringing that same red rose, and he should be holding one as well.
She is his soulmate, that is for certain. She is quite literally the girl of his dreams. She is his princess, his goddess, his caretaker, his lover, and at this very moment—his everything.
She is also his blind date. She's the one Luna thought suits him the most out of her friends, because she does suit him.
She is the other half of his star.
When the Earth begins moving again, he is quick to tread towards their table, unable to make her wait any longer before their date starts.
Her gaze falls on his form just before he can take a seat, and without thinking, he grins at her, almost faltering when she refuses to smile back, a scowl ever so clear on her face.
"Hi," he greets with a pathetic wave of his hand.
Her scowl deepens as she seemingly examines his appearance, and his heart aches just a bit at the thought of her disappointment. She greets him with a clipped tone, "Hi."
He raises a hand for her to take. "I'm Draco Malfoy."
She stares at his hand sceptically. After a lifetime, she takes it with a hint of hesitation. "I'm Hermione Granger."
When they touch, Draco sees colours he was unable to see before. He sees love, contentment, and joy all in her. The world seems more beautiful. The pouring rain becomes louder and joyous as it celebrates their fated meeting.
His soulmate is Hermione Granger. That is only the first thing he's learned from her; he hopes to know more.
He wishes to never stop touching her, but she pulls her hand back away from him as though he's poison to her precious, smooth skin. It hurts him.
"You're late," she states, crossing her arms over her chest. An accusing gleam passes over her brown eyes.
He hangs his head down in shame, ready to atone for his sins. "I'm sorry. I got caught up in the rain."
Hermione purses her lips, looking as though she's mulling over his excuse before her lips stretch out into a bright smile that can put the sun's rays to shame. "Don't worry about it. I was early anyway. I'm sorry for looking so mean when you approached me."
"Don't worry about it," he repeats her words. He decides that whenever she's with him, she never has to worry about anything.
Once they manage to get themselves some scones, cake, and tea, the conversation between them falls as easily as an apple precariously hanging from a tree. He marvels at how comfortable they are with each other. They don't seem to be awkward in anything, and they shouldn't be for they are made from the same star.
"What do you do for a living?" she asks, both hands around her cup of chamomile tea as she takes a sip.
Draco doesn't know how to answer; he doesn't have a functional nine-to-five job like most people. Since he comes from old money, he has never felt the greedy craving most do for it. He doesn't see money as the determiner of life and death, so technically, he doesn't really do anything for a living. Shrugging, he mumbles, "I just live."
She giggles at his odd response. "No, I mean, what's your job?"
He shrugs his shoulders once more. "I'm an explorer."
"Really?" Hermione leans closer to him with a curious expression. She's adorable. "I assume that's where you met Luna?"
"Yes." Draco grins at the memory of his first encounter with the girl who resembles the sun. "We just happened to be in the same unknown little corner of the world. It's fate."
"Fate, huh?"
"Yes." He nods eagerly but steers the conversation away from beliefs territory this early. "What's your job?"
"I'm a prosecuting attorney," she answers with a kind smile. "I work for Addington Law Office."
His father wants him to be a lawyer. Lucius Malfoy wants him to work somewhere within the complicated web of politics like he does and almost succeeded in making him go through law school when his mother interjected and told him that Draco can do whatever he likes in life. To this day, his father still refuses to accept what he does.
"Are you alright?" asks Hermione, likely noticing his sudden attraction to silence. Perhaps she noticed the way his soul slumps in defeat as he thought of his father. Perhaps it's her basic instinct to make sure he's alright.
So far, he hasn't seen that she knows they're soulmates. And he's starting to doubt himself. Maybe he was wrong. He doesn't know what it feels like to be with his mate, of course. He's seen so much of the world, yet two mates in love aren't a part of it.
"Do you—" He swallows his hesitation and all his apprehension with it. "Do you feel it?"
She shoves a piece of cake into her mouth, swallowing before she asks, "Feel what?"
How can she not know what he's talking about? Does that mean she's unable to feel it like he did as soon as he saw her? Does that mean that they aren't made for one another, after all?
"The ma—the thing," he stutters, looking around the many people surrounding them and feeling—for the first time in his life—suffocated because of them. "The bond. The soulmates thing."
She blankly stares at him for a long two seconds before she bursts out laughing. "Don't tell me you still believe all that bull?"
Draco gapes at her. "What?"
"It's been long since proven that the concept of soulmates or mates was just created by the Ministry to ensure peace after the last war," she explains matter-of-factly. Little does she know, with every word she utters, she takes a piece of his heart with her. "We've all been put under a charm of sorts at birth, effectively tying our hearts with another. It's completely barbaric and a violation of our rights—and, if I were to be honest, it's very ignorant of you not to know all these things already."
"I do know of all those things! I just think soulmates are the real deal!"
Hermione scoffs, rolling her eyes at him dismissively. How does she have the heart to dismiss him like this? "They're not. We're not made of the same stardust, Malfoy. We're just two people who met because we owe a favour to a mutual friend. And that's what this is—it's a favour."
Is it possible for one's heart to experience an earthquake? Because Draco is sure that is what's happening to his at the moment. He feels it crumbling and shaking inside his chest. Rocks fall off a cliff on his heart, and they land in his stomach for some reason, bruising and scarring everything on their way down.
The way his hands shake and suddenly run cold must be one of the aftershocks, then. The rain outside falls even harsher and harder against the pavement, and he somehow feels the icy pricks of its drops right on his skin, freezing his veins and replacing his red, warm blood with pale, blue ice. Is this what heartbreak feels like?
With heartbreak comes irrationality, it seems, because out of nowhere, he slams his fist onto the table and practically yells at her, "You're saying you don't feel anything for me at all? Not one ounce of attraction? Nothing?"
Am I nothing to you?
She looks surprised at his outburst. "I'm not going to lie to you and tell you I don't feel anything because I do. I like you, Draco Malfoy, even if you are a little strange."
He pauses in thought. Could they actually work? "I like you, too, even if you're dismissive of my beliefs."
To his shock, a red blush falls upon her cheeks, making her look even lovelier than before. "It's not like that. I just—soulmates aren't a thing, you know?"
"I know for a fact that it is a thing," he says, grinning widely, his previous hurt forgotten. "You just don't have enough faith in the universe."
Hermione quirks an eyebrow. "The universe? What are you talking about?"
"The universe that made us," he answers as if it's the most obvious thing. "The universe that created us from the same dying star."
Hermione furrows her eyebrows but smiles amusedly. "Whatever you say, Mr Malfoy."
"Just keep playing your little sceptic role," he says. "By the end of the year, I'll prove to you we're soulmates—no, I'll make you believe we're soulmates."
"Quite an impossible challenge, Draco Malfoy, when you haven't even asked to see me for a second time yet."
Draco grins sheepishly. "After this is over, would you be willing to go on another date with me sometime?"
"Yes," she answers, not even thinking twice about it, to his delight. "I find I rather enjoy impossible challenges."
"Your mate?" His mother, like Hermione, is one of those people who doesn't believe in soulmates. "Draco, I know you've developed an affinity for the world for some reason, but soulmates are quite literally unbelievable."
Draco resists the urge to roll his eyes at his mum. One would think Narcissa Malfoy—the most traditional Beta you'll ever meet—would be all for people finding the right one for them and staying with them for eternity, but no, people are often more complex than just being traditional or just being progressive. "I know what I feel, Mother."
"Are you sure you're not just obsessed with this girl? To me, that sounds like that's the case."
"I barely know anything about her."
"Yet you are so determined to change that," his mother pointed out, a brow raised elegantly. "I'm worried for your sanity, Treasure. It seems to me you spend too much time wandering around strange forests and looking at stars—it's taking a toll on your mental health."
Wincing at the name society decided to call people like him, Draco grimaces. "You just don't understand what I do, Mother—what I'm meant to do."
Taking off her white gloves and placing them on the table, his mother leans back against her chair. "Then please, elaborate. We have plenty of time."
"You know what the Seer told you when you were pregnant with me," he grumbles, staring down into his tea.
"All she said was that I'd give birth to a gift from above," she says, waving her hand to dismiss the memory. "Regardless of what you would have become, I'd still consider you a gift, Draco."
"I came from above, from the stars themselves." He stirs the now cold tea in his cup with a spoon as a distraction. "I was born an Omega because I was meant to explore the universe, to discover more of the world. I'm a Treasure because I'm one of the few who was sent here with a clear purpose. And my sole purpose is to see the beauty of the world for myself and to share it with everyone. You were the one who told me this when I was younger, so I don't understand why—"
"I told you that when you were five years old as a mere bedtime story." She shrugs, turning her gaze away from him. "If I had known you would take it this far—"
"Just go on and tell me to be a lawyer already!" he exclaims in a tone that should never be used on his own mother. "Merlin, you sound like Father."
His relationship with his parents is strained, to say the least. He theorizes it's because they don't know how to raise him with love, never having held the true meaning of it in their own hands.
Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy were forced into marriage when they were too young. Their marriage is a sham. Even though they refuse to separate for they deem it unacceptable, his father has a committed adulterous relationship with his soulmate. His mother hasn't been so lucky. As a woman who refuses to believe in things she hasn't seen, she has declared in her own mind that the concept of soulmates is a farce. In Draco's opinion, his mother is incapable of feeling any sort of love or forming intimacy with others.
If soulmates don't exist and anybody can connect with just about anybody, why did his parents' marriage fail? Is it because of the absurd belief that Betas and Alphas never make good couples? Draco doesn't understand—why doesn't everyone just try to force every relationship to work instead of breaking up and finding others? How can there be a wrong person if the concept of the right one doesn't exist?
"Forgive me." His mother's light blue eyes shine with sincerity, though he knows she is mostly pacifying him and won't really change her mindset. "I should be more open-minded than that."
He has long since accepted that his parents may never truly love and cherish him. In fact, it's one of the reasons why he turned all his attention and affection to the universe when he was younger. The stars make up most of him. The sun gives him warmth. The air makes sure he gets to breathe and live every day. The point is, he has proof that the universe cares for him.
"I hope you meet her someday," he speaks in a soft voice. "My mate, I mean. Hermione Granger."
"I'm sure she's perfect for you."
"She is."
Like all people he's encountered, Hermione Granger is ethereal. Her brown eyes twinkle the same way the stars wink at him every night, her touch is as soft as the clouds that pass over their heads at that very moment, and her petite loose-limbed body follows him fluidly through the tight crowd like the moon chases after the sun.
When they make their way to the middle of everything, surrounded by different types of living beings, Hermione looks around with wide and almost terrified eyes while Draco stares in awe.
The crowd consists of different individuals. Every single person who brushes their arm against his, every single person who steps on his boots, every single person who walks in front and behind him—they all have their own lives, their own memories, their own experiences, their own mistakes, their own talents, their own beliefs, their own perceptions, and their own ways of getting by.
Amazing.
They're just at a small, barely-visible corner of the Earth, yet so many people living beautiful and different lives. So many people living for different purposes. So many people, but all of them remain important and special enough to exist in a world that happens to be just right to sustain life. So many people who can change the whole timeline of the future just by one small action.
And to think there are eight billion human beings in the entire world, all with different gifts and different reasons for existing—
Amazing.
Somehow, in the middle of this crowd, of all the deafening noise, only Hermione's voice rings clear to his ears. "If we get trampled in here, Draco, I will kill you."
He laughs in a way some people might think is crazy. He feels giddy. He feels life buzzing through his entire body like never before. Pulling his soulmate towards him and wrapping his arms around her, Draco whispers into her ear, "Look around you."
She hugs him back, placing her chin on his shoulder. "Why did you take me here?"
"We're soulmates," he breathes, smiling when a few pieces of her hair move with his breath. "We're fated because otherwise how did we end up meeting in spite of the billions of people around the world? If we're not a miracle, how can you explain the way we somehow found each other when there are so many other people for us to know? How did we find each other, if not for the sole reason it's written in the stars?"
Hermione chuckles right next to his ear, and the sound is bells and waves at the same time. "Two words: Luna Lovegood."
"Compound word: soulmates," he retorts, joy lacing his words even as he knows he hasn't convinced her yet.
She chuckles once more, this time pulling away from him. Before he gets a chance to mourn the loss of her arms around his frame however, her lips are suddenly on his, kissing him and licking him until he willingly gives up his life to her.
He shuts his eyes and kisses her back. Her lips are the first to have ever felt like this—to have ever felt like every emotion and every celestial body all at once. She's the first he's ever touched and kissed who has felt like true love.
"I think I'm in love with her."
Luna's smile stays the same on her face, never waning and never growing either. "You think?"
He nods, biting his lower lip in uncertainty. "We've only been on seven dates. Do you think it's too fast?"
"No love is too fast or too slow, silly," Luna drones in a dreamy tone. "It's just love."
"You're right. She's my soulmate, anyway, so it doesn't really matter."
Luna takes his palm and places sunflower petals all over his hand. "She's the girl from your dreams, then?"
"I'm sure," he pauses to chuckle briefly, tossing the petals to the air. "There's no mistaking that hair."
"Do you want daffodils for your mother?"
"Sure," he says, all of a sudden realizing something. "I suppose I should be thanking you then."
"For what?"
"For recognizing fate early on and making us meet each other."
The way she stares into his soul with her gleaming blue eyes makes him shiver. "How could I have known you were soulmates?"
Draco shrugs. "I suppose it's the stars then?"
Luna gives him the bouquet of daffodils she arranged for his mother, smiling knowingly. "Who knows? Maybe it's just love."
The grass around them is soft, dry, and green. The trees are tall and magnificent, acting as a protective mother's embrace to keep them warm and breathing. The flowers are small but colourful. They serve not as decoration but as a way to make anything that gets close to them feel safe, pretty, and beautiful.
Draco arranged a picnic for their 11th date somewhere not far from his childhood home. The spot where they sit now is the same spot he'd go to whenever his parents argued and fought in front of him when he was a child. Even back then, nature served as his escape, his silver lining—the only thing worth living and loving for before Hermione.
"You have a beautiful home," Hermione tells him.
Looking back at the ostentatious Manor that makes up most of his childhood, he silently disagrees but outwardly nods. "It's older than I can imagine."
Hermione smiles, nodding as well. "I can see how you developed a love for the world if this is where you grew up in. There's plenty of birds, trees, flowers—anything alive you can think of. I grew up in a modernized home. All I saw most of the time were cars and busy people."
"That's not necessarily a bad thing." Draco raises a hand to tuck a wild curl behind her ear. "Technology and humans are amazing, too."
"Hmm," she hums, running her hand across the feathers of one of the albino peacocks that somehow escaped the gates. "I have a question for you."
"What is it?"
"How do you hold so much love for the world when there are so many wrong things happening? How do you keep your faith in humanity when there are wars everywhere? Violence everywhere. Hurting everywhere. How?"
Wallowing in silence for a moment to think of his answer, Draco finally shrugs and says, "I don't know. I don't want anyone to ignore the bad things, but I just—I don't know—is it really a crime to lean towards the positive? Why should we focus on all the hate in the world when we can just, maybe… love? Just give love to everyone and everything. Just take a few minutes from your everyday life and just love… and appreciate."
"Don't you feel guilty?" Hermione toys with his hair, and he feels the tips of her fingers to his very soul.
He lets out a weak but genuine laugh. "No. Living in guilt would only lead me to a barely-lived life. And why should I feel guilty? All I'm doing is seeing the world's beauty for myself. It's why we're alive anyway—to get a taste of real beauty."
Hermione puts her hands on his cheeks, leaning in until their noses touch. "You're a very beautiful person, Draco Malfoy."
He feels her lashes against his eyelids and wonders if that's what it feels like to have a butterfly flutter across his soul. Do flowers marvel the same way whenever an insect's wings land on their petals? Is that why they give the gift of nectar and pollen to the vibrant bees? As a silent thanks for acknowledging their existence?
She ghosts a kiss against his lips, and he aches to have more of her mouth on him as she gives him a serene look and a calm smile, admitting, "I fear I might be falling quite deeply for you."
His heart lurches in his chest, meeting with hers and becoming one in a single breath. Despite this, he smirks and sticks his tongue out to taste her lips. "I know. We're soulmates, remember? We're meant to fall in love."
Her breathy laugh reaches his tongue, and he gets a taste of happiness. "If that were the case, I would've fallen at your feet as soon as we met."
"You haven't?"
She playfully hits his chest before capturing his lips again. "It's not soulmates. It's just dopamine and norepinephrine on the brain."
He places his hands on her hips, the feel of her curves beneath his palms is almost enough to turn him insane. "You know, about three to five per cent of mammals are known to form lifelong pair bonds. Is it really that impossible for us to be included in that number?"
"Yes." She chuckles, tangling her fingers in his hair. "Do you remember your first girlfriend? Or the girls you've been with before me?"
"Of course."
"Then you should realize that if we do mate for life, that would mean we wouldn't be able to date and break up as easily as we do. If that's the case, the girl who popped your cherry is your soulmate. Not me."
"Damn," he mumbles, a cold chill running up his spine at the thought of Pansy Parkinson as his mate. "You're good."
"Giving up already, Draco?"
"No." He kisses her deeply. "I'll never give up on anything that concerns you."
"You're an Omega?"
Hermione nods, biting her lip. "I hope that doesn't turn you off somehow."
"No! I'm an Omega, too!"
Eyebrows furrowed, Hermione looks sceptical. "Really?"
"Yes." Draco grins before diving in to kiss her. "It seems we truly are made for each other."
"But Omegas are so rare—only 1 in every 1 million babies in the U.K. are born an Omega!" Hermione rambles. "I never would've thought I'd meet another Omega in my lifetime, let alone so close to—"
He kisses her again, just to shut her decadent little mouth. "There's no other explanation for it, Hermione. The universe has wired us, two Treasures, together."
Hermione rolls her eyes, pushing herself off him. "We're hardly as special as people think we are."
"Why do you think we're mated?"
"Because of the Minis—"
"Do you think it's because we're meant to change the world? Together? I mean, how many pure Omega couples do you know?"
"Us."
"Right! Only us!" Draco exclaims. "My mother went to a Seer when she was pregnant with me, and she told her that I was to be a gift from above, that I was going to be a minority. The Seer told my mum that I'll be the first to see both the known and unknown world. Maybe you'll be, too. Maybe we can ride on the stars together."
"Aren't stars hot?"
He ignores her, already imagining them exploring the entire world together. They would be a powerhouse together, he decides; two Omegas reinventing the world into something even greater. "I can't wait to see the world with you."
The night sky looks bright tonight, glowing a gentle blue. The waxing gibbous moon watches over them like a personal chaperone, and stars are littered across the sky, looking like tiny, shining blots of glitter.
Hermione outshines them all. With her vivid brown eyes, seemingly sentient curls, and fluorescent golden skin, she reigns over his palpitating heart, over the constellations above their heads like the most paradisaic tyrant to have ever lived.
With only their wands lighting up the space around them, Hermione and Draco stare into the ocean below the cliff they're currently sitting on.
Draco watches as the waters crash into the rocks, the sound of the pieces of the earth breaking and falling into the sea almost holy to his ears. He thinks of the life at the lowermost bottom of the ocean—the life that began evolution—and wonders how they can survive without ever knowing the sun or the moon or the stars, without ever realizing the legacy they left in the world.
Once again, he is thankful for having been born to witness all this beauty in one place.
"Do you believe in God?"
Hermione turns to him in slight surprise, obviously not expecting that kind of question to come from him. "No. My parents are atheistic Alphas. I didn't grow up going to church every Sunday, and when I was old enough to understand religion, I didn't care much for the concept, so I never bothered learning anything about gods, goddesses, and divine beings. Do you?"
"No." Draco shakes his head. "I believe in luck. That and the universe, of course."
"And what have they done for you?"
"You mean what have they done for us," he corrects, straightening his back and stretching his arms. "Have you thought about it before?"
"Not really."
"We live in the Solar System," he begins, a smile beginning to pull his lips upwards. "There are eight planets in this Solar System, eight entirely different worlds made up of entirely different elements. And out of all those other incredible planets, only ours has life. Only ours has lions; only ours has birds and butterflies; only ours has human beings! It all exists because we're not too far or too close to the sun, because comets crashed into Earth a long time ago, because a thin layer of ozone shields the Earth—and you still believe that luck isn't real?"
"Scientifically, it's not—"
"Scientifically, how are we even real? Bees! How are bees real? How can they even fly, if not for luck and the universe?" Draco knows he's treating the matter way too seriously, but he wants to fight for his own beliefs. "How is it possible for all these other seemingly impossible things to exist, but soulmates are just too fantastical for you?"
"Soulmates are real," Hermione states, and his entire world halts for a second before she continues, "because of the spell cast on us by the Ministry. They bind one's magical core to another's and make sure that once they find each other, they are compelled to stay with each other instead of escaping and finding others. Go to St Mungo's and have them run tests on you. I'm certain they'll tell you the same thing."
"I know that already," he growls impatiently. "But what about the real soulmates? The ones made from stars? The ones with red strings tied around their fingers? The ones who connect deeply with each other? What's your explanation for that?"
"That's love," she softly replies. "That's the definition of pure unadulterated love. It's a connection. It's an understanding. It's intimacy. It's happiness. Just because you find the one person most suited for you doesn't mean soulmates exist. It just means you're in love."
Draco sighs, looking away from her to watch instead how the crests and troughs of the ocean waves seem to gleam under the stars. "We'll never come to an understanding about that, won't we?"
"I don't think so." Hermione lightly chuckles. "We're two very stubborn and very different people—it's a bloody miracle how we understand each other in other ways."
"You believe in miracles, huh?" A small smirk appears on his face. "Me, too."
Hermione bursts into laughter, but they fall in silence after that, preferring the sounds of the ocean over the sounds of each other arguing.
"You don't like staying indoors, do you?" Hermione speaks up after the silence becomes unbearable. She's wearing a baggy jumper and grey joggers to match. Her wild brown hair is messily forced into a bun on top of her head. Her flaws are as clear to him as the waves beneath them. And he thinks those imperfections actually make her perfect.
Draco unconsciously smiles at the gorgeous girl the universe has gifted him. "What makes you say that?"
"Well, on every date you've taken me, you always drag me along to somewhere without a roof," she explains, "and when we do go inside, it's always because of me."
"You don't like the places I take you to?"
"I think they're astoundingly beautiful, but I feel like you're just doing all of this to impress me," she admits, tightening her hold on his hand.
"I'm not—"
Ignoring that he even spoke, she cuts him off and continues, "I want to say that you don't have to impress me anymore. You've already captured my heart. You've already earned my love. We can go spend a whole day in your flat, just watching the telly or snuggling under the covers, and I'd still be happy because I'm with you."
The sky of stars brightens up at her words; the moon grins at them, holding their fates in its craters; and the waves of the seas grow larger until they reach the neighbouring galaxies. This is not the first time Draco has theorized that the universe moves with everybody's emotions. Or maybe the world is just more beautiful when one is in love.
He grabs her face with both of his hands, tilting his head to the left and devouring her lips until he's full of her essence. After that, he moves his lips to her neck, sucking softly on her skin as she moans his name.
When he manages to shift their position so she lies on top of the earth beneath him, he is quick to rid her of her jumper and bra. He presses kisses to her breasts, desperate to connect with her in the most spiritual way possible.
Pulling his lips away for a moment, he sends words of worship to her skin, "I love you."
Though they both seem to be aware of the love flowing in between them, this is the first time one of them actually uttered those three words out loud.
Hermione stills in shock and for a short minute, he is afraid she'll leave him all alone here with only the night sky as a witness, but then, she slips her arms underneath his shirt, her hands feeling for his heart as she whispers a blessing into his ear, "I love you, too."
Later, when every inch of their skin is touching, when they're staring into each other's eyes, when her hand is attempting to find a good grip on the sand, when he loses all semblance of control, and when they come together in simultaneous bliss, Draco and Hermione feel their respective souls escape their bodies for a moment, travelling up to the night sky before being pulled back into their vessels once more.
The universe itself has been a witness to their love.
And that is the precise moment when Draco feels whole and pure.
A/N: This fic was written for the Nikita Gill challenge on Dramione Fanfiction Writers on Facebook where those who signed up have to write a fic based on/inspired by a poem by Nikita Gill. This is based on 'And You Call Me Crazy?' by Nikita Gill! The title is also from the same poem.
In the midst of the chaos the world has come to, I felt obligated to write a piece with the full intention of reminding everyone what a wonderful world we truly live in. Spreading positive vibes!
Wanna say thanks and give all my love to the lovely frecklesandbroomsticks for taking the time to beta this piece!