I had done it all - dancing, a candlelit dinner with music, a stroll through the Muggle park near my flat, the whole nine; all that girly shite every female supposedly likes. Here it was, the moment of truth.

-

I ran a hand through my hair as Granger stared at me like I was crazy, her bottom lip caught between her teeth.

"Why me, Draco?"

I held back a sigh and a roll of my eyes. I'll be damned if she was the Brightest Witch of Her Age, yet too daft to know that she didn't need my reasons for loving her. All she had to do was say yes and we'd be shagging like rabbits on the floor. Or against the wall. Or the bed, if we could make it.

"Because, Granger," I locked eyes with her. "It's you I want. No one else. I've been dropping hints like Dungbombs for an obscenely long time now, and all you do is blush then proceed to ignore me. It's troublesome and you're infuriating, but Merlin and Morgana, do I want you. You and that untameable bushy jungle you call hair and your swotty lectures on proper dishwashing and horrible cooking and incessant nail-biting. All of you."

She huffed at my response and planted her hands on her hips.
"If I'm so troublesome then why even bother? I'm not staying here and taking this." She rose and made for the door, but I caught her arm and gave her my best pleading look.

"Please, Granger. Hermione. Stay," I said, sitting her back down on the chair she had just vacated. Her emotions seemed to be at war - uneasiness, curiosity and worry all etched into her face.

"Darling. Princess. Heart of my heart. Speak to me."

"I'm not not speaking to you. Again, Malfoy: why me? If I'm so much trouble to be with, why do you insist on being with me?"

I took a deep breath. Fuck it all.

"Maybe I wanted the trouble. I haven't wanted the trouble in a long time, but with you, the trouble doesn't seem so... Troubling, you know? I love you, and I'm asking you to marry me because I'd like to spend the rest of my life hitched to someone as troublesome as you. I can't give you all my reasons for loving you but Merlin's saggy bollocks, Hermione, I'll give you one every day if I can. Please say yes." I had temporarily upset my bent-on-one-knee position and shifted slightly, head bowed, afraid to see her reaction. No wonder I had been sorted into Slytherin; I didn't have much courage in me after all.

"You have no idea how demeaning it is for a Malfoy to beg someone into marrying them, you know," I added as an afterthought.

I tentatively raised my eyes to her face, only to catch her with her hand over her mouth, stifling a giggle. I frowned and poked her knee. Bint. How could she giggle at a time like this?

"Oi, what's so bloody funny about me proposing?"

She laughed and knelt down in front of me, taking my face into her hands. "You, Draco Malfoy, are the single most annoying prat I have ever met. Don't get me started on how much my swotty tendencies have rubbed off on you. Also, I cannot believe you professed your love for me and used the phrase 'Merlin's saggy bollocks' in the same sentence. Yes, by the way," she said, planting a soft kiss on my lips.

Grinning from ear to ear, I slipped an emerald engagement ring - one of the Malfoy family heirlooms - onto her finger and pulled her on top of me until we were lying down on the hardwood floor of my flat.

"I love you, Granger. Shall we proceed to shag like bunnies now?"

Her eyes twinkled. "Yes, we shall."

It was a carnal shag-fest, I can tell you. Merlin, do I love that girl.