Disclaimer: I own absolutely nothing from the Harry Potter universe. This fanfiction is written purely for entertainment purposes and nothing more.

A/N: No, Destiny has not ended yet, hahaha. There's still more to come, but the ending is near. I love you all, my faithful readers. Let me hear more from you :)

-Annie

The Threshold

"Mummy."

"Mum, seriously. Hello?"

I shook my head, snapping my head up. The Angel Of Destiny—A Tale Of Fate, Hope, And New Beginnings was halfway to the floor and I was barely grasping it. I had trailed off again whilst reading to the boys.

"Oh, I'm so sorry," I apologized, rubbing my eyes.

"Are you sleepy, Mummy?" asked Haden, touching my cheek.

"No, not really," I replied, kissing his forehead. "I just have a lot on my mind."

"You keep stopping," Jasper told me, frowning. "You were telling us about that cool sorceress."

"Which one?" I wondered, not even remembering where I had been reading in the book.

"The Angel of Destiny," said Jasper.

"Is she really an angel, Mummy?" asked Haden.

I sighed, flipping through the pages until I landed on the story my mother had read to me when I was a little girl, but without the involvement of magic. There was a picture of Destiny on the left of the page and I stared down at it with unblinking eyes. Destiny was stunning, with knee-length white blonde hair and bright blue eyes that seemed to see into your very soul even through the page. Her skin was pale and sparkling and she was much taller than I could ever be.

In the picture, she had wings jutting out from her back, pearly and large.

"I'm not sure, sweetheart," I replied. "I believe that she is whatever you want her to be."

"Can you finish reading, please?" pleaded Haden.

"And don't trail off this time, Mum," Jasper warned me, giving me a hard and stern look.

I laughed.

"Alright, alright," I replied and continued reading.

I barely understood what I was reading, my mind far away in a different plane. My thoughts were on the man a few doors down, working late in his study. I was still dressed in the green sundress I'd gone to the bar in with my friends. When I'd come home merely an hour ago, I'd been trampled by the boys and their eagerness to see me. Draco was grateful to finally be free of the boys, apparently very swamped in paperwork.

He had briefly explained that it was in preparation of his meeting tomorrow morning. I'd taken the boys upstairs and gotten them ready for bed.

But I was very eager to see my husband, which is why when the boys were finally in bed and the lights were off, I scampered out of their bedroom and down the hall. The door to his study was open just a bit and I peeked in.

Draco was seated at his desk, grumbling over a rather hefty pile of paperwork. He looked so worn out, it exhausted me to even look at him.

"Knock, knock," I said in lieu of a hello, walking into his office.

"Hi," he greeted in surprise. "I thought you'd gone to bed?"

I shook my head, perching myself on the edge of his desk.

"Aren't you coming to bed?" I asked him. "It's really late."

He sighed heavily. "I'm sorry, 'Mione. It might be a while."

"Have you taken a break at all today?" I asked him.

He shook his head. "No. No breaks."

"Well, Draco, it's really late," I reminded him again, pointing to his clock.

He sighed again.

"Maybe I could help you," I suggested. "What else needs to get done?"

"I'm just trying to organize now," he said. "I'm freaking out over nothing, but I want things to go perfect tomorrow. A lot is on the line and I have to do a good job."

"You always do more than a good job," I assured him. "And you aren't going to blow anyone out of the park tomorrow if you show up looking like a zombie."

He laughed. I brushed away his paperwork and took his hands.

"Forget the paperwork for tonight. Let's have an evening to ourselves and relax."

He raised his eyebrows, looking at me strangely.

"Are you sure?" he asked.

"Of course I am," I told him. "Pamela and Dennis are downstairs; I'll ask them to keep an eye on things. Let's take a walk."

I let him finish organizing his files while I went downstairs to tell Pamela the plan.

"The boys are already asleep, but just in case," I told her and she rolled her eyes.

"We'll be up for a while," Pamela responded. "We'd be happy to keep an eye on the house."

"Thank you," I said, hugging them both.

I met Draco by the door and we closed the door quietly behind us as we entered the warm evening. The moon was large and bright, lighting the road as we weaved in and out of our neighborhood, toward the beach. My sandals made slapping noises on the pavement, puncturing our peaceful silence.

Draco reached over and grabbed my hand, entwining our fingers. Inside, my heart rippled. The sandy beach was now only a few steps away, so I led him to the pier and we dangled our feet off the side, watching as the tide came in.

"What's got you so distracted?" Draco wondered after several minutes of silence, the water lapping underneath us.

I laughed, shaking my head. "Just thinking."

"Penny for your thoughts?" Draco whispered, a smirk slithering its way across his face, making my insides warm. Still, I remained quiet, nibbling on my bottom lip. "Come on, 'Mione."

"Do you believe in destiny?" I blurted.

I avoided his gaze.

"Of course I do," he replied.

My nose scrunched up as confusion washed through me. "You do?"

He nodded. "I believe each of us has a destiny, a soulmate, somewhere they're going after they die. And it's you who taught that to me."

I laughed. "Please. That can't be true."

"Why?"

"Because I don't believe in destiny, or the story my mother read to me when I was a child and the one I read to the boys tonight. I make my own choices, I lead my own life."

"I never said you don't," Draco continued. "But even your choices lead to things. You choose what path to take, but it is that path that defines you, makes you who you are, leads you to the end of your story. Destiny doesn't choose for you, it simply provides the choices, and the path you go down after making your choices. I believe in that because Destiny brought me to you. Every single thing in my life has lead me to this point and everything happens for a reason."

I blinked at him, swallowing every word passing from his beautiful granite lips.

"The choices I've made, the mistakes I've made, the things I've said, all worked in bringing me to this night, here with you. I have to believe that, because you did once, as well. Something like what we have can't just be passed off as coincidence. It was fate. And I think we were made for each other and no matter what, we will always find out way into each other's lives."

By the time he was done, I found myself trembling, my heart beating wildly in my chest. Everything I'd ever known and gone by had been shaken since the day I woke up next to my enemy. And now, here I was, holding hands with that very same man, talking about destiny. I hardly remembered now who I was before all of this happened. It seemed so normal to me, living this life day by day with Draco, our children. And though parts of me still remained in the past, holding onto that notion that I was still Hermione Jean Weasley, still twenty-one years old and starting my life, I knew I was here with Draco now. And he was my present, my future.

If only I could remember my past...

"Any other questions?" he prodded, poking me teasingly in the ribs.

I shrugged, looking into his glacier eyes with uncertainty.

"Come on, I know you want to talk."

"Honestly? I want to get to know you better," I divulged softly. "I mean you are my husband after all."

He chuckled. "You know a lot about me already."

"Yeah, like your favorite color and how you like your tea, perhaps," I scoffed. "But what else don't I know about you?"

He laughed, put on the spot, his cheeks turning a bit red. "You need to be more specific, love."

"Well, who was your first kiss?"

"My first kiss? Why on earth do you want to know that?" he chuckled.

"Because that's something you ask someone you are with," I replied.

"With?"

When I refused to go deeper into my sentence, he let it go.

"My first kiss was Abigail Pugh," he told me. "I was a first year and it was a dare."

"You were that young?" I gasped.

He snorted. "Well, it was a dare, after all. How old were you when you had your first kiss?"

"You already know that, don't you?"

"Not exactly," he said. "I know it was with Viktor Krum."

"Fourth year. He kissed me before he left Hogwarts during the Tri-wizard Tournament."

Draco shook his head, rolled his eyes, and flexed his hand.

"Knew there was a reason I never liked him," he said, winking at me.

"Oh, stop it. Aside from Viktor, a forced kiss from Cormac McLaggen, and one when I was trapped under enchanted mistletoe with Neville Longbottom, I didn't have many boyfriends until Ron."

Draco tensed at the mention of Ron. He sighed and nodded tersely. "Yeah. You were a lot more innocent than I was. That's part of why I love you so much—your innocence."

We were silent for a little while after that, my head resting on his shoulder. Something about his comment bothered me. Like he thought I was some kind of child, naive and innocent, inexperienced. Sure, I was modest when it came to physical intimacy in relationships. It's why I was called a prude so much during school. The only person I'd ever gotten close to physically in that way was Ron, but though we'd come close many times, I believe strongly in saving myself for marriage.

Perhaps that was prudish of me and unrealistic. Perhaps that's why I couldn't get any guys back in the day. And I'd always been proud of that fact, that I had the courage and the restraint to save myself for marriage, when that notion was incredibly out-dated.

But sitting here, next to the sex god of Hogwarts, I felt very small.

"All out of questions?" he asked a moment later.

I sighed, sitting straight and pushing the hair out of my face.

His fingers traced my cheek. "What is it?"

"I bet you had a lot of girlfriends," I said.

"No," he said. "I had a lot of flings and one night stands during a really dark spot in my life, but I only had three girlfriends."

"Three?"

He nodded. "Pansy Parkinson, but we were always better off as friends. Megan Rowstock and I were together for about a month before we broke up. And I briefly dated Scarlett Lympsham until she cheated on me with Theodore Nott."

He shrugged. "I was a player, I'll admit. I'm not proud of it. I never truly cared about a lot of women. I slept around because it felt good and I got bored. But I never really cared about the girls I slept with. That's why none of my relationships ever lasted long. No one ever connected with me in a deeper way than just sex and money and fame."

"Then why did you pay any attention to me?"

He scoffed. "How could I not? You always seemed so untouchable, so unreachable. You made me want to be a better person. You showed me that relationships were more than just sex, that you could connect with someone so completely without all of that. You made me want to change, and I did."

I smiled, but inside I still couldn't help the crumpling sensation inside me with the conformation that Draco had most definitely slept around. I hardly expected him to be like me, to value abstinence as I did. I knew that everyone made their own choices and he wasn't me and I wasn't judging. But it still made me feel like I'd been pushed off a cliff to find out other women had been with him that way.

Madly, horribly jealous.

"It was different with you," he said, as if reading my insecurity straight off my face. "You were well worth the wait. And unlike a lot of the times I had sex, I was completely sober with you. You actually meant something to me. I'd never had that. And it was one of the best nights in my life. I pushed you to the limit and we had a few close calls, but I always respected your decision to wait."

I blushed, a thousand images flooding my mind. He took my hand tightly in his and squeezed it.

"Hermione, don't be insecure, sweetheart," he said softly, brushing a loose strand of hair out of my eyes. "You are my wife. You own my heart and from the moment we were brought together in Paris, no one else mattered. To this day no woman has ever come close to you. You are the one good thing in my life, and I never deserved you, but I'm so happy you chose to make me the luckiest man alive by staying with me."

Tears brimmed my eyes. No man had ever talked to me like that, and coming from Draco Malfoy, with such sincerity, knocked me breathless. Would he ever stop shocking me?

"We should probably head back to the house," he sighed, helping me to my feet.

We walked back to the house in tense silence. We bid our goodnight to Pamela and Dennis and ascended the stairs to our master bedroom. I decided to shower, hoping the warm water would clear my head. Relaxed and refreshed, I emerged from the shower, changed into my pajamas, and brushed my teeth.

But I felt more confused than ever. What on earth was I going to do?

I opened the door and stopped short almost immediately at the sight in front of me. Draco Malfoy, stripping off his shirt.

I swallowed loudly, but he didn't turn around. The muscles in his back rolled as he stretched. A strangled gurgle of a sound escaped my throat before I could grab it back.

"Are you alright?" Draco asked, turning around at my entrance.

I nodded sharply, briskly walking over to the bed and turning over the sheets to climb in. I grabbed my novel from the nightstand, flipped on the lamp, and snuggled into my nightly routine as Draco escaped into the bathroom to change. Moments later he emerged from the bathroom, his fist clenched.

"Why do you still have this?"

I peeked up from over my novel questioningly. In my face he dangled a silver chain with a bright red ruby. It was hard to forget, that necklace. I gulped and sighed, taking the necklace into my hand. Engraved on the back of the ruby was these words, "With Love, Ron".

"I still have this?"

He glared at me hotly. "Obviously. Hermione, Weasley gave that to you—"

"When he asked me to be his girlfriend, yes, I remember," I finished softly. "It was his grandmothers. It was supposed to go to Ginny, but she hates rubies, so she gave it to Ron to give to me. It took almost all the money in his account to have it engraved."

"So, why the hell do you still have it?"

I shrugged, because I really didn't know. "I must've forgotten I'd had it. How'd you find it, anyway?"

"I accidentally knocked down one of your boxes in the closet when I was getting something and it fell out. What am I supposed to feel about you keeping your ex-fiance's keepsakes?"

"Really, Draco, that necklace means nothing to me now. I really must have forgotten I'd had it. I'm sorry. If you'd like I can return it to him."

Angrily, he ripped the necklace out of my hands and stalked back into the bathroom. Seconds later he returned.

"It's back in your little box. Obviously, since it means so much to you after so many years, you'll be wanting to keep it. Maybe wear it every now and again."

"Draco, don't be absurd," I said, sitting up straighter. "Why are you being like this?"

"Why do you think?" he snapped. "I feel like I don't even...Whatever."

"Draco, will you stop? Listen to me. I'm your wife, not his. You know that I love you, so will you just relax? This is driving me crazy! Can't we just have one good night together?"

"I'm driving you crazy? I'm driving—"

He abruptly broke off from his fit, making a strange sputtering sound. And then I realized what I'd just done.

"I—I mean—um—"

"Did you just say—?"

I was frozen beneath the covers, the book in my hand clutched tightly.

"—that you love me?"

"No," I squeaked, jamming my eyes shut.

Stupid, stupid, stupid!

"You just said you loved me," he insisted breathlessly. "I heard it."

"You're imagining things, Draco."

"No, I'm not!" he exclaimed. "I've been waiting to hear those words from you for God knows how long. You said it."

This was too fast. I couldn't stop this. I didn't know what to do. The world spun chaotically around me.

"Oh," I said quietly. "Well, I suppose I did."

He blinked, standing like a stiff statue, his eyes wide and glistening. When he spoke next, his words were soft as dying embers and full of emotion.

"Do you mean it?"

Don't be a bloody coward, griped the voice in my head. Are you a Gryffindor or aren't you?

I nodded.

"You do?" he croaked, stepping toward me.

"I do," I gasped, tears springing to my eyes despite myself. My heart felt like it was going to burst within me like a broken dam. I had never felt this way about anyone before. The feelings, so intense, coursing through my body were enough to make me capsize.

"It's crazy, and we haven't even gotten physically close, but I think that's what convinces me the most that I do love you. It's crazy, but I know in my heart I do."

He tried to hold back the tears, but they rushed out of him in relieved torrents, and we clung to each other, overwhelmed with emotion.

"I love you," I told him bravely, truly, and confidently, "and you are a wonderful man. I'm so sorry that it took me so long to see that."

"I've been waiting so long to hear that from you," he whispered deeply into my ear.

For the first time in a very long time, a genuine grin stretched across his beautiful face.

"And I've been waiting so long to do this, too," he said.

Before I could question him, his lips were on mine, locked and marking their territory. I gasped as he lit a fire inside of me that I never knew existed. I wanted more, more, more. I wanted to cry, I wanted to scream, I wanted to kiss him like this until he sucked all the breath out of my lungs and I floated away. I wanted to—

"I'm sorry," he sputtered, breathless. A large grin spread across his face and his eyes twinkled like metallic stars. "I didn't mean to overwhelm you."

"You didn't," I insisted.

Not in a bad way, at least.

"We can take this slow," he assured me, and though my body ached for him to take it fast, very fast, right here and now, I knew he was right. That was the best way for now.

"Okay," I agreed. "But can I have one more kiss before we go to bed?"

"You never have to ask," he told me with a smile, gripping the nape of my neck and pulling me to him. He kissed me deeply, softer and less urgent this time than the first time, but the fire was still there, muted and warm, begging to be let out.

Taking a deep breath, I settled into his arms, feeling his lips brush the top of my head, his heart pounding in my ear.

And as we drifted to sleep, I had to wonder what I had been so afraid of?

Loving the enemy, it seemed, wasn't all that terrifying a prospect after all.