Author's note: Bet you didn't expect to hear from me so soon, did ya? Surprise! Happy 4th of July to those of you here in the States. Enjoy the fireworks tonight. I don't have much to say here, only that I hope you enjoy this update.

As always, I do not own Harry Potter. I'm a lowly peasant, merely playing in a world of JKR's creation.

"It was you."

Draco's mind seemed to disconnect from his body at that moment. Her words bounced around, pinging off his skull and making it hard to draw in breaths. He desperately wanted to believe her, so much so that he could feel his hands trembling, aching to reach out and touch her. Finally.

But he couldn't. No matter what Hermione said, Draco knew what brought about her glorious change of heart - and it wasn't him. It was this alternate version of himself that played the martyr and used his Slytherin cunning to gobsmack this precious girl across from him and turn her world upside down and inside out. Disgust closed off his throat and made his stomach roll.

Draco watched as Hermione's expressive eyes narrowed on his look of disbelief and a tiny growl escaped her. He couldn't help the small grin that quirked his lips at the sound. His lovely lioness, growling at him like a wee kitten. Momentarily, he wondered if she purred as well but resolutely shoved that thought to the back of his mind with all the other inappropriate thoughts he'd been having of late. It didn't help that she had on the tiniest pair of bottoms Draco had ever seen. They looked soft...not nearly as soft and smooth as her long, shapely legs.

Hermione was so tiny, utterly petite, and yet her legs seemed to go on for days. He could almost imagine them wrapped around him - this time Draco cleared his throat uncomfortably and forcefully shook his head to clear away the images his brain was conjuring.

"It's the truth, Draco," Hermione stressed. "Even though it sometimes feels like I'm pulling teeth to get a word out of you, on the rare occasion you do open up, I - I feel blessed that you chose to share a part of yourself with me. I've known you for seven years, Draco - and yet, I feel like I've only recently been allowed to see you for who you are, instead of the mask you constantly wear. And I like what I see."

Huffing out a breath, Hermione pushed herself up from the couch and began to pace in front of the fireplace. Draco's eyes followed her every movement while he tried to slow his racing pulse with deep breaths. She was adorable when aggravated, he decided.

"You're so aggravating. You're so confident and self-assured one moment, and then blushing the next. Which is so charming, ugh, it pains me to admit it," Draco watched her, and his smile widened. Her hair was expanding with each word; her hands were gesticulating wildly as she paced. "You're protective of those you care about and undeniably loyal. The way you talk about your mother - the love you have for her, it's easy to see why she was willing to put it all on the line for your safety."

Suddenly Hermione came to a stop facing him, her deep, dark eyes beseeching.

"You're a good man, Draco. You just haven't had many opportunities to show it. But I know you are. I've seen it. Please believe me."

His heart lurched inside his chest. How long had Draco dreamed of something like this happening? Years of longing and suffering in silence, could it have been avoided if he'd only been brave enough to show her who he was? Had she been paying such close attention to him lately? He tried to think back to their time working in the library. Mostly Draco used the time to watch her, learn her, adore her surreptitiously. But, come to think of it, Hermione had been watching him just as carefully. The petite witch was eager to listen to anything he wished to share, and so sweetly encouraging when he had trouble being so exposed.

Hermione rarely pushed, and when she did, she always did so gently - with care and concern for him. Draco's hands were growing slick with sweat, and he was almost certain a herd of hippogriffs were fucking around in his stomach, the nervous flutters he'd come to expect and associate with this beautiful witch in front of him causing his cheeks to warm.

"It's not the easiest thing to do, Hermione. I know I'm not a good guy. I don't deserve you, that much is ridiculously clear. You're made of all things good, and light and glorious and I'm a walking shadow, ready to stamp out your beacon of hope with my darkness. How could you want that? How could anyone?" He hated saying it, but it was the truth. Draco knew he could spend a lifetime doing good deeds and still never deserve the shining example of innocence that was Hermione Granger.

"Stop that!" Hermione exploded, marching towards him with her hands on her hips - leaning over him. She shook her head as her beautiful, endless eyes clouded over with a fresh round of tears. "I can't stand to listen to you speak about yourself that way! Yes, your life has had more than enough darkness, but it doesn't define you, Draco. You are so much more than just your past, why can't you see that?"

Her shuddering breaths and hiccuping sobs tore at his chest, and without really thinking about it, he'd stood and wrapped her in a tight embrace. Rocking her gently from side to side, Draco made soothing noises to try to calm her, while running a gentle hand through her curls.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I didn't mean to make you so upset." Hermione's small hands gripped his shirt as if it were a lifeline, and her tears dampened the fabric covering his chest. "Hey, hey - calm down, love. I'm not the best with crying girls."

A small, broken laugh escaped Hermione, and Draco couldn't help but let out a relieved breath. Pulling back slightly, he stared down at her with no small sense of wonder before clutching her to him once again.

"You mean that, don't you?" he murmured into her fragrant curls.

"Of course I do. I don't make a habit of saying things I don't mean," Hermione returned just as softly. Draco could feel his blood rushing to his head, and heard his heartbeat thundering in his ears as he slowly pulled back once more, only this time he gently took her face in his hands. His eyes swept over her features, wanting to remember this moment for the rest of his life - no matter how it turned out. Gathering what courage he did have and listening, for once, to what his heart was crying out for - Draco swooped in, slanting his lips over hers and kissed her as if he'd never again have the chance.

For the briefest moment, Hermione stood frozen, with his lips coaxing, begging, imploring hers to join in this dance of lips and teeth and tongue. And finally, finally, she gave the sweetest little sigh as her body melted into his and her lips began to move with his own tentatively. A small groan rumbled in his chest, as he pulled her closer and sucked gently on her plump bottom lip, just as he'd imagined doing so for years in his dreams.

Hermione's lips tasted of tea and honey, sweet and earthy. Utterly addicting. And then when she parted those bee-stung lips and whimpered quietly into his mouth as his tongue slid past and brushed gently along her own - he was lost. Hermione pushed her hands up over his chest, around his neck and into his hair, tugging gently. Draco's own hands ran up and down her sides, along the curve of her back, before sliding into her riotous curls. Pulling gently, he angled her head and dragged his lips along the line of her jaw while panting and trying to catch his breath.

"Wow," he heard Hermione's breathy declaration and chuckled gently into the fragrant skin along her pulse point.

"You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that," Draco velvet voice whispered into her ear.

"I might have some idea," she responded, her voice light and happy. Draco couldn't help but puff out his chest just a little with pride. His kiss had not only stopped her tears but brought about this broad, dazed grin. He did that. It was enough to make him dizzy.

Unable to resist, and not wanting to, Draco crashed his lips against hers once more. Briefly, he wondered if you could become addicted to kisses. He dismissed the thought immediately; he wouldn't mind being addicted to this witch's lips. Hermione's blunt nails scratched against his scalp while she swiped her petal-pink tongue along the seam of his lips, and her eagerness ripped a moan from the back of his throat.

With great reluctance, Draco pulled himself away from the fountain of her lips - her body pressed so intimately against his own, and her intoxicating kisses had awoken his sleeping member, and it was much too soon for that kind of behaviour. Hermione was someone to be treasured, worshipped and loved beyond measure. Not manhandled during an, admittedly, fantastic snog.

"Hermione," Draco breathed, mere inches from her lips. His eyes sparkled like freshly shined silver as he gazed tenderly into her own. "I swear to you, no one could love you better than I will if you want this. I will endeavour to keep winning your affections day after day. I will love you, wholeheartedly and with every fibre of my being if you'll consent to be mine. Please, please...be mine?"

Draco was shocked when she pushed up on the balls of her feet and pressed a soft, sweet, chaste kiss to his lips, her own smiling against his.

"Nothing would make me happier, Draco."

And he could tell she meant it. The softness in her gaze as she blinked up at him was a soothing balm to his soul, and he couldn't help but crush her in another tight embrace as he battled traitorous tears that filled his eyes. It wouldn't do to cry in front of her, especially over this. However, Draco had never experienced happiness like this before, and he seemed to have no control over it.

"Thank you," he finally choked out, burying his face in her glorious curls. "Stars above, I never thought I'd see the day." As if sensing his emotional upheaval, Hermione tenderly ran a hand through his hair before rubbing soothing circles along his spine.

"Well, it's here now," her breathy giggle brought a genuine smile to his face and he decided there and then, if she let him, he'd never let her go.

Sighing against her curls, Draco offered one last squeeze before stepping back and running a hand through his hair, now unruly thanks to Hermione's wandering hands. "I don't want to let you go, but it's terribly late and breakfast comes early. You need your rest, love."

Draco's heart skipped a beat each time he used the term of endearment, the thrill of being able to do so singing through his veins.

"I don't want to go," Hermione whined playfully, pouting. Unable and unwilling to resist the temptation, Draco leaned in a kissed her pouting lips softly while tracing a gentle finger from her temple to her chin.

"What if I promise to be waiting outside your door first thing and we eat breakfast together? Would that help?" He'd give her anything her heart desired, really.

"It certainly makes me eager for the morning," Hermione whispered, staring up at him with open adoration painting her features.

"Then it's a date." And his heart soared at the word.

Endnotes: Hope it was worth the wait.

xx - otterly