Hey Guys! I've had the beginning of this for ages, but couldn't figure out where it should go next.
Disclaimer: I sadly do not own Harry Potter.
Age 26
Hermione Granger walked towards the table, her high heels clicking softly on the wood floor. The young man sat there, waiting for her. She didn't know it, but he was holding his breath.
His eyes lit up when he saw her, walking towards the table in a black dress he would describe as sexy. But of course, he wouldn't tell her this. She hated compliments.
"Hello," he said when she reached the table. He drew out the word, knowing it would make her blush.
She smiled. "Hello Yourself, Mr. Malfoy," she whispered cheekily. He feigned hurt. "How long have you been waiting for me?"
"Ages…" he answered sarcastically. "You take forever to get ready."
She smiled.
"Draco? Do you love me?" she asked him.
"Of course I love you, Hermione. Why would you ask such a question?" This was how their relationship was. It had been for years.
"Do you remember the day under the tree? The promise?" he asked.
She smiled. Of course she remembered.
. . .
Age 16
"Draco? Do you love me?"
"Of course I love you, Hermione. Why would you ask such a question?"
"I was just wondering…." She sighed, and turned back over. He scooted closer to her, pointing up at the different stars.
"Draco?" she whispered, after a minute.
"Hermione?" he replied, turning to face her.
"Do you want Voldemort to win?"
He paused before replying. "No…" he said slowly.
"You don't?"
"I love you too much to want to see you suffer if he won."
She watched him carefully, before he pulled her close, kissing her lips.
She pulled away quickly. "Let's run away."
She stood up quickly, grabbing her bag, before a hand stopped her from picking up her wand, which had fallen. "We can't, Hermione. Where would we go? How would we leave? We're at Hogwarts. It's not like we can apparate." he whispered, not wanting to be caught for being out after hours.
Somewhere, a clock struck midnight. "What would Harry think? And Ron? They'd think you had been captured, at least." She nodded slowly, dropping her bag, her wand safely in it this time.
"Good." She lay down next to him again, but he could tell she was disappointed. "I'll make you a promise. Someday, we'll run away, get married, never look back. We'll take all of the magic we learned here, and throw it away, put our time and energy into something else. Forget Voldemort, the war, the rivalries we've grown up on. We'll raise a family without magic." He paused, feeling Hermione tense up beside him.
"You want to marry me?"
"Yes."
. . .
"I remember feeling so nervous when I was making that promise to you, but I wanted to make you happy, and that was the only way I could think of that would make you feel that." He laughed lightly at his sixteen-years-old self.
"Why are laughing? It was sweet." She looked up at him. "I love thinking about that day."
"Hermione?"
"Yes, Draco?"
He stood, walked around the small table, stopping when he was next to her. "Remember when I promised that it would all work itself out someday?" She nodded, confusion written all over face. "Today's the day. It's someday." He got down on one knee. "Will you marry me?"
She smiled, tears shining in her eyes. "Of course, Draco."