Title: My One
Author: Jodylips
Rating: PG-13. Kid friendly
Disclaimer: Harry Potter is mine. Not. A girl can wish. And the quote. If I could speak fancy words like that...I'd be cool. But I can't. So I suppose I'm not so cool. :)
Here is the quote again: "At this moment there are 6,470,818,671 people in the world. Some are running scared. Some are coming home. Some tell lies to make it through the day. Others are just now facing the truth. Some are evil men, at war with good. And some are good, struggling with evil. Six billion people in the world. Six billion souls. And sometimes -- all you need is one."—One Tree Hill
Warnings: Attack of the fluff. It's really not that fluffy actually. One word that's sort of bad? And I suppose the title is sort of cheesy.
Summary: Draco will propose to Hermione. And it will be a surprise—if he has anything to say about it at least.
Notes: Much thanks to marmaladefever for beta-ing for me! And and I hope you like this, a_theanalyst, this is for you.
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My One
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The first rays of sunlight poured into the room, rather unwelcome. Hermione yawned quietly, careful not to wake the man sleeping beside her. She had always liked waking up early—taking advantage of the full potential of the day, she would lecture. Draco, however, had never seen the crack of dawn and would likely never see it in his life if he had his way which suited Hermione just fine, as long as she didn't need to deal with the cranky Draco.
Which was why she was particularly surprised to feel so lonely snuggled under the warm blanket on top of their shared king-sized bed as she forced her eyes open. She turned to lie on her right, fully expecting to see the familiar mass of blonde hair she had come to adore. Instead, she shivered as the cold air hit her.
A moment later, she pushed herself up to a sitting position in the middle of the bed, holding the blanket around her body for warmth. "Draco?" she called. "Draco," she tried once again.
"In here," he called as he walked out of the washroom, running a towel roughly through his hair. Funny that she had never heard the shower running.
She gave him a weird look, her brows furrowed as she raised an eyebrow at him.
"What?" he questioned, looking away from her. If she didn't know him better, she would have thought that he looked slightly nervous.
"You're up early," she stated.
"Couldn't sleep," he explained, figuring that it was the half truth at least. Hermione continued staring. Draco? Up before six? There was no way. She frowned thoughtfully. What was going on?
He shrugged, her gaze unnerving him slightly, and hurriedly turned away from her, heading back to the toilet. "Oh," he said, pausing at the doorway. "Would you like to go to dinner tonight?"
"Draco," Hermione began, "we go to dinner almost every night." She pushed the blanket off her, bracing for the cold, and shifted herself to the edge of the bed.
Draco watched as she planted her bare feet down, wiggling her toes as they made contact with the cold stone floor. He scratched his head. "No, I mean like... a nice fancy dinner. Out someplace. We haven't done that in a while." He even tried to smile, but he knew it looked uneasy.
She turned around and grabbed the blanket once again, wrapping it around her like a cloak. "We go out all the time Draco," she laughed. "What's up?" She padded her way towards him, one step at a time.
"Well, tonight will be okay right?" he asked, bringing the towel to his damp hair once again.
Hermione stared for a moment longer before shrugging it off and smiling. "Of course." She gave him a small hug, wrapping her arms around his waist and scrunching her nose at the droplets of water dripped onto her.
"Great," he murmured, but it seemed to Hermione that his mind was already somewhere else. He planted a chaste kiss on her forehead, more out of habit than anything else she felt. And before she knew it, he was gone, disappearing back into the washroom without giving her a chance to respond.
Odd.
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Draco was not avoiding Hermione. No—more like...strategically...narrowly missing her at the most convenient times. Apparently, after his rapid retreat to work that morning, she had sent an owl asking if he wanted to eat lunch with her.
He had instructed his secretary to notify Ms. Granger that he was eating with someone else today. Which wasn't a lie—if he had anything to do with it at least. Now all he needed was to find somebody else to eat lunch with.
It wasn't as if Draco wanted to avoid—narrowly miss—her. It was necessity! A need, not a want. He had said it enough times. She was too smart for her own good, and in this case, it was ringing too true.
She knew this morning she had been slightly suspicious. Draco had always prided himself in being a terrific liar, but long ago, he had learned his lies could no longer get past her. She knew him too well—something that he always complained about, but secretly loved. He loved the fact that she could read him so easily, know him so well. He also loved the fact that she would never know about it, for he knew she would never let him hear the end of it.
Most importantly though, he loved Hermione. And recently, he had realized that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her beside him.
Draco Malfoy liked to get what he wanted. He was going to ask her to marry him. And it was going to be a surprise for the lovely little know-it-all. He would make sure of that.
He ran his finger down the spine of the small leather book he was holding, feeling the ridges and the engravings. He flipped through the book looking for the page he wanted and folded down the corner. Spreading the book open on that page, he picked up his quill and twirled it thoughtfully in his hand.
He mentally groaned. She had turned him into a sappy monster. But he smiled nonetheless.
An owl tapped the glass of his window, disrupting him. He sighed, recognizing the owl to be the one he had given Hermione, and pushed his chair back. That particular owl, he knew, was treacherous—loyal to only Hermione now. If he kept it out there too long, it would surely give him a few good pecks without hesitation.
He opened his window and cringed as the owl swooped down, barely avoiding his head. "Blasted thing," he muttered, and cursed loudly as the owl pecked him in the arm in retaliation. He held up his hands in defeat and thoroughly regretted the day he had bought the animal.
When the owl finally gave a satisfactory curt nod, it stuck out its leg for him. Draco unravelled the string that tied the rolled up parchment to the animal and read the message.
"Wait here," he instructed the animal as he hurried back to his desk.
He would give her her surprise even if it meant a little strategic avoidance for now. It was for the best. She could blame it on herself.
He picked up his quill.
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Hermione,
I'm afraid I'll have to meet you at the restaurant directly today. There's some work I have to finish up.
I'm sorry. Meet me at The Canoe at eight.
Love,
Draco
She read the note again. Work? Was he serious? Did he honestly expect her to believe that? Lunch, she could understand. But work he had to finish? Did he not recall that he was the boss? Did he not realize that he was perhaps the laziest man to grace the earth?
Now this was a first. Work as an excuse.
She huffed angrily, mostly because she couldn't figure out quite what he was up to.
Briefly, the thought of him ending it with her crossed her mind. But that was highly improbable. Things were going great between them at the moment. Sure they had their arguments and squabbles, but that was only expected. He knew that, didn't he? Of course he did.
No, he wasn't acting distant. He was acting... like he was avoiding her. For whatever reason, she didn't know.
She folded the parchment neatly and tucked it into her pocket, continuing her perusal of her closet. She had come home early from her work managing at a pharmaceutical company to prepare for dinner. She glanced at the clock on the wall reading a little past seven and hurriedly continued her search for a dress. Hermione fingered through the various materials, occasionally grasping at a piece of clothing that she liked before tucking it back in line with a shake of her head.
The Canoe was a prestigious restaurant, known more so for its view than its food. She pulled out a little black dress that she knew looked stunning on her, but frowned. Not black, she thought suddenly. Green. Draco's favourite. She wanted green. She pulled out her wand and summoned a few of her favourite green dresses in front of her.
She levitated the ones she eliminated back to their places and considered the final two with difficulty. She opted for the one she had just recently purchased, one that Draco had never seen before.
Laying it on the bed, Hermione picked up her robe off the rack and headed for the shower.
A good time later, she emerged from the steaming room, clad in only her robe. She picked up her wand, which was lying on the dresser and pointed it at her damp hair, murmuring a quick spell to dry and tame it into soft curls. She checked the time, noticing that she only had half an hour left.
Quickly, she slipped into the knee length empire-waist halter dress. Adjusting the low dip in the back, she padded her way towards the mirror and took a spin, forgetting all about her earlier worries. Secretly, she loved getting dressed up and knew it was half the reason that Draco insisted on going out to dinners every week. She brushed on some make-up, and then struggled with her heels.
Finally, she sat down and pinned up her hair in a messy up-do, sweeping her long fringe to the side. Tucking in a small flower by her bun, she nodded satisfactorily. She checked her watch. Just in time.
She picked up her purse and her wand. The next thing she knew, she was standing in front of a large black door, camouflaged against the long stretch of black wall in front of her. A man dressed in—predictably, black—immediately pulled open the door for her, and she stepped inside, nodding her thanks.
She walked up to the counter, where a woman stood. "Reservations under Malfoy," Hermione said.
The woman smiled briefly and nodded. "Please follow me."
She seated Hermione at a table by the window that seemed to look out over a cliff. Hermione didn't remember a cliff around here. But then, moments later, the view changed. It seemed as if the restaurant was flying throughout the world. Hermione didn't doubt it actually was.
She watched as the view continued to change every five minutes, admiring the landscapes—one of which she recognized as a spot near the manor. She looked at the empty seat across from her and frowned. He was late.
Draco was nothing if not punctual.
She checked the clock. He was very late. In getting so caught up in the beautiful scenery, she hadn't really noticed how much time had gone by. But now that she thought about it, she must have gone through almost half a dozen places.
She frowned. Where was he?
She summoned a waiter and ordered a glass of wine, ignoring the odd looks she was receiving. She wasn't getting stood up. She wasn't getting stood up.
But even as she punished that thought, the irritating idea of him breaking up with her crept its way into the back of her head.
She wasn't getting stood up....
Hermione fumed to herself angrily. She caught sight of a pitying glance sent her way.
Blasted fool! He was standing her up!
Soon enough, the waiter came back. However, he wasn't carrying the wine she had ordered. Instead, on his tray was a folded white card. The man lowered the tray in front of her. Hermione simply stared. After a long moment, the man cleared his throat and bowed deeper. Hermione, fearful that the poor waiter would hurt his back, obligingly took the card obviously intended for her.
If this was Draco's attempt at being romantic, she would have to criticize him on the point that there wasn't a flower with the card. She huffed. And if this was his apology.... She shook her head angrily.
What stupid joke was this? What was he playing at? What if... what if this card wasn't from him? She purposely ignored the pang in her heart.
She couldn't help but eagerly unfold the card, her sense of curiosity overwhelming her as she read the note inside.
Home sweet home.
She frowned at the sheet of paper and turned it over to see if there was more. There wasn't. What was home sweet home supposed to mean? Home sweet home....
It was then that Hermione looked up. They weren't in Paris anymore. They were sitting right outside Malfoy Manor.
Albeit the Manor was spectacular in its own right, it didn't take a genius to figure it wasn't one of the restaurant's usual destinations. Amidst the gasps heard around her as the guests took in the sight of the mysterious mansion, she pushed to a stand and dropped her cloth onto the chair.
She supposed she could humour him. Besides, she would have to find him if she wanted to yell at him for standing her up. A note didn't count as a person. Stupid Malfoy... it was his idea for dinner too.
The waiter nodded at her as she left, so she figured Draco had already paid. She walked out the door and onto the grass in front of the Manor just as her owl swooped down to perch on her arm.
The animal nuzzled her outstretched hand as it lifted its leg towards her. Hermione smiled, getting into the game a little, though that didn't mean she wasn't going to give him a piece of her mind later, she vowed to herself. Her anger was already washing away though.
"How many treats did he give you to get you to listen this time," she murmured amusedly as she took the letter. The owl made a sound, as if it were laughing at poor Draco too.
"Alright then, let's see what he has to say this time."
Home sweet HOME.
"Really, Draco?" Hermione asked aloud to herself. "I was getting there." She rolled her eyes and sent her owl away, heading towards the path that led to the front doors.
As she stepped onto the pathway, a trail of rocks appeared in front of her.
"Really," she sighed. "It can't be something romantic like...rose petals or something? Rocks. Seriously." Nevertheless, she followed the trail as it led her towards the back of the manor. Midway through, she stopped and took off her shoes, throwing them to the side. The trek to the back, which she supposed was the destination, was long enough as it was without three inch heels.
Draco was going to pay for ruining her favourite shoes.
Finally, after what seemed like miles, she arrived at the patio deck, spotting the pale hair. She picked up one of the rocks and threw it at the target, hitting the man squarely on the back of the head.
"Malfoy!" she called as she stomped towards him. "You couldn't have just simply asked me to go to the patio like a normal person, right? Instead, you send me on this, like..." she waved her hands wildly, "...wild goose chase."
He smiled at the sight of her dishevelled state, marvelling at how beautiful she still looked. He transformed the smile into a smirk. "But where's the fun in that?" he teased.
"Fun? Let me tell you something, Draco Malfoy...it was not fun," she panted.
"Not even a little bit?"
"NO!" she screeched angrily, regaining her breath.
He pouted. "Aw, come one Hermione."
She bit back her smile at his expression. "Not the slightest," she lied.
"Surely you liked the scenery," he egged on.
Hermione glared at him. "I'm glad you brought that up. The scenery was great. The fact that I was watching the scenery alone," she emphasized, "was not! I was so embarrassed. How could you stand me up like that, huh? You better have a bloody good reason—"
He cut her off with a small kiss, quickly pulling away. She was surprised.
"I needed to shut you up some way," he murmured with a teasing smile.
She huffed. "Shut up? You shut up, you little prat. I don't get what you're—"
He cut her off again, this time by spinning her around. "What are you—" He clasped a hand over her mouth, to muffle her ranting. He murmured a simple charm to release the spell he had placed over the patio.
Thousands of little candles lit up the entire place, flickering and dancing in the semi-darkness.
"Please tell me I don't have to do all this every time I want you to quiet down," he murmured into her ear jokingly. She ignored him, instead, taking in the beautiful sight before her. She gasped quietly.
"Oh Draco," she said, turning around into his embrace. There were no flowers. Or anything like that. But to Hermione, it was the most romantic thing in the world. Rocks shmocks. She tilted her head up and kissed his chin, her heart beating wildly.
"You like it?" he asked with a smile, although the delight in her face and her eyes told him the answer already. He still wanted her to say it.
"I love it. Thank you." She laughed. "What's the occasion?" Although she sort of had an inkling of an idea in her mind.
She wiggled her fourth finger behind his back discreetly and grinned.
"You mean you haven't already guessed it?" Draco asked while taking her hand and leading her to the table.
She pretended not to and shook her head. "No idea."
"Then why the giant smile?" He was probably liking this a little too much.
"No reason," she shrugged, her eyes twinkling. Oh how she had been waiting for this day for so long now. She wanted it so badly. She wanted him to ask her, just so she could say yes. She wanted him for the rest of her life. She loved him. She loved him with every fibre of her being, every beat of her heart, every... this was perfect!
Her grin, if possible, grew even wider. Draco smirked inwardly.
He put his hand behind his back, and she watched in anticipation. "Well, Hermione," he began. She nodded. "You know how much I love you. And I would do everything I could to make you happy." She nodded again, eagerly. "So...."
He pulled out the object from behind this back. "I know how much you wanted this book." He pushed it towards her, smiling like a boy in a candy store. "Do you love it of what?!"
Hermione's face fell sharply, her expression disbelieving. But moments later, Draco watched as she put on a false smile and gently took the book. She smiled at him, although her eyes were clearly disappointed.
"P-Pride and Prejudice," she stuttered, shock still settling on her. "How nice. All this... for a book."
Draco took her hand and smiled. He truly wasn't that cruel. "A very good book."
His other hand reached out and he held her chin, tilting it up. He could see the sheen on her eyes. Was she crying? He hadn't meant for her to cry. He watched a tear slip down.
"Hey hey, don't cry Hermione." He pulled her into his arms for a hug. "What's wrong? I never meant for you to cry. I thought you'd be happy."
She hiccupped and shook her head fervently.
"Are you trying to tell me you're not crying?" he asked.
She nodded.
"Well, you're not doing a very good job," he commented, trying to lighten up the situation. "Now tell me what's wrong," he asked, although he very well knew what was wrong.
"I-it's silly," she mumbled, wiping her tears away quickly. "It's nothing at all."
Draco shook his head slightly and smiled. "Hey now, I have an idea. How about you open the book and flip through it? I even found a page that you might like particularly much."
He wiped the remaining stray tears away with the pad of this thumb and nudged the book towards her. She nodded and attempted a composed smile. Slowly, she cracked open the book and fingered the corners until she felt the marked page. She flipped to it.
"It's Darcy's proposal," she pointed out with a fading hiccup. "The horrendous one."
Draco nodded, his expression suddenly earnest and serious. He let go of her hand.
"Where..." Hermione began, feeling the need to continue, "he's full of pride and condemns her in every way, insulting her at every turn."
"Does," Draco asked quietly, his voice emotional all of a sudden, "he love her, though?"
"Of course. Very much so. Just sometimes, he shows it poorly." Hermione was intrigued now. "You know, they started off very much like us—hating each other. He insulted her. She insulted him back. And so on and so forth."
Draco smiled slightly. "But I apologized," he protested weakly.
"So did he," Hermione paused. "You know Draco, I'm really glad you found me to apologize to me." She put the book down in her lap. "Really, really glad," she murmured, looking into his eyes.
"Me too," he responded. He looked away. "So do you think we'll end like them?"
"I...I hope so."
Draco nodded. "Turn the page Hermione."
She did so, and on the margin, he had written something in his perfect penmanship. She read the note out-loud.
"At this moment that you are reading this, there are 6,470,818,671 people in the world. Some are running scared. Some are coming home. Some tell lies to make it through the day. Others are just now facing the truth. Some are evil men, at war with good. And some are good, struggling with evil. Six billion people in the world. Six billion souls. And sometimes—all you need is one."
As she read it, her voice got softer and softer, until the end was barely a whisper. She set the book down slowly. No. She didn't dare get her hopes up again.
"Draco?" she questioned, looking up at him.
But he was already on one knee. He opened the small box in this hand, revealing a band of white gold, engraved with a beautiful intricate design encrusted with small, modest diamonds all around.
"Oh my god." Her heart must have stopped completely. Tears leaked fully down her cheeks. "Oh my god." He looked up at her, his heart in his eyes, and she felt herself clamping her mouth shut, not even daring to breathe as the tears continued pouring.
"Hermione Granger," he began, his voice husky and low. "Tell me you'll be my one."
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This fic was written for the livejournal dmhgficexchange. It has been nominated for the Dramione Awards at , under the romance category. If you like it, please go check it out! Or review here or there.
Please and Thank you. I sincerely hope you enjoyed it.