A/N. I am sorry if there are formatting issues. This is my first story I have uploaded and I have not quite gotten the hang of technology in general (give me a quill and some parchment and I'd be all set). Thank you for your patience!
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters, just my rampant imagination.
10.
It took 10 years from when they first met for them to share a kiss. It was sudden, unexpected, and forceful; a melding of tongues and lips. They were both 21, but each felt much older; sorrow and pain adding unwanted years and burden. The war had been over for four years, but this was the first time they could drown their sorrows in muggle alcohol during the annual Ministry celebration of the legacy of Harry Potter. They stared at each other after their sharing of saliva, stormy grey eyes piercing into fierce brown ones; his smoldering gaze seemed to linger on her lips, but only for a fleeting moment before he disappeared, melting into the shadows. She was left alone in an empty corridor, the sounds of the merry celebration, faint and distant.
20.
It took 20 years from when they first met for them to become intimate. Two lost and confused souls melded into one. For that single night, they shared their sorrows and poured their passions into a single task, reaching, striving, yearning, for an unattainable peace. Before the light of day began to faintly peak through the curtains, he was gone. Good. It would save her the trouble of leaving.
30.
It took 30 years from when they first met for them to finally speak civilly to one another. They found themselves in a coffee shop eyeing each other wearily. All their friends were happily married with families; their parents were gone, both sets lost as casualties of war: pawns in a never-ending game. They were forgotten though, left behind. He spoke first, "Care for a cup of coffee, Granger?" His voice held no malice, just the weariness of a 41 year old man hoping to start anew. She nodded curtly, cocking her head towards the empty seat across from hers as she carefully lay her worn book down. They shared an afternoon together, a cup of coffee or two, and tentative smiles. Each left the small shop that day with lighter spirits; their souls were slowly healing, the cuts in their façades fading away.
40.
It took 40 years for them to become friends. By now, they were both established and highly regarded individuals in their respective positions. They were both aging, but that hardly mattered. "You're no longer an albino ferret, Malfoy!" Granger exclaimed one day, reaching out to tug lightly on one of Malfoy's gray hairs. Smirking slightly, Malfoy only responded cryptically, "Sometimes…we change, Granger."
50.
It took 50 years for him to admit he loved her, and for her to admit the same to him. By this time, neither had progeny or any other family to speak of, so they clung to each other, weathered hands intertwined. For each, it had been a long journey alone and now it was time for two roads to converge into one.
60.
It took 60 years for her to realize that pain and sorrow does not dull or numb as the years go by. After 60 years, she stood alone in front of his gravestone. Time had stolen him away from her. Draco Malfoy no longer existed and only she, Hermione Granger, mourned for his death. The irony did not go unnoticed. She glanced down at her left hand and stared at the ring he had gifted her shortly before his death. It was Slytherin green and silver and beautiful and elegant, like him. It was a promise ring. He had vowed to wait for her to join him. She shed a lone tear. The ring was beautiful. And so was their love.
70.
70 years after they first met, she finally joined him. The only earthly evidence of their perpetual bond was etched on a simple headstone that simply proclaimed "Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy."
They were finally content as one.