January 1, 2010

According to Draco's watch, the hour now approached one in the morning, but he doubted even a well-brewed Sleeping Draught could dull his energy. They'd just returned from his mother's New Year's gala and Hermione had already disappeared into her bedroom to change into comfy pajamas, while Draco dithered behind her, still in his dress robes and cloak.

Crookshanks peered up at him through one yellow eye from an armchair. Go on then, are you waiting for a formal invitation? You're already dressed the part.

Draco finally followed her into the bedroom and saw she'd only made it as far as hanging her velvet, midnight-blue cloak in the closet. He leant against the doorway and cleared his throat to get her attention.

"Are you quite tired?" he asked.

"Not quite, I've still got that party adrenaline. I'll fix some tea, see if that might make us a bit sleepier."

Draco bit his lip and carded an anxious hand through his hair. "Do you think instead we could take a walk?"

She stared back at him for a few moments. "Now?"

Draco nodded.

"It's… rather late, no? And I think it's snowing."

Of course she would make this more difficult than it needed to be.

He offered a soft smile, one he only tried to deploy when he wanted to get his way.

"Please? I think it'd be nice to clear our heads after the boorishness of the evening. It was rather unbearable this year without Theo and I could do with some fresh air. Besides, doesn't it just warm your girlish, sentimental heart to take a wintry stroll with a charming and well-dressed gentleman not even an hour into the new year? Who knows when you'll get this chance at such a romantic setting again?"

Hermione rolled her eyes, but Draco could tell she was on the verge of breaking, so he laid it on even thicker.

"Think of it Granger, the snow's falling lightly on our hair, the streets are deserted, we're the only people out and about, the stars are twinkling above us as we ring in the new year with a brisk chill in our lungs, but kept warm by our affection for one another."

She finally broke and snorted. "Good lord, who are you and what have you done with the man who wouldn't even hang a stocking on the fireplace with me because it was, and I quote, 'not a proper place to stick old socks, I don't care how traditional this is for Christmas.'"

He ignored her barb and terrible impersonation of his voice and grinned when she re-donned her cloak.

"Thank you for humoring me," Draco said once they'd made it down her front steps. It was indeed snowing and Hermione cast a Warming Charm over both of them. She looked up expectantly at him and Draco canted his head down the street.

"Let's head this way, give the café a night time visit."

Hermione tucked her arm through Draco's elbow. "If you're craving a scone, I hate to tell you this, but I'm fairly certain they're closed at the moment."

"I told you Granger, I just fancied a walk is all. Your acquiescence is appreciated. Your cheek, as usual, is not."

She chuckled and nudged him lightly. "Liar."

They walked in companionable silence until they reached the familiar destination of their weekday morning rendezvous. Draco brought them to a stop in front of the darkened windows, and his determined and solemn reflection stared back, even as his pulse quickened. Hermione unwound her arm from his and approached the windows to peer inside.

"Hmm, the bakery case looks empty. Guess you'll have to wait until tomorrow."

She turned toward him with a teasing smile, but Draco could only stare back at their reflections stoically, trapped both by her beauty and the fluttering anticipation of the impending act he'd rehearsed countless times inside his head. Part of him wanted to freeze the two of them here and now; encased in the simple comfort of her presence, forever watching her smile, a bright beacon against the dark backdrop of the night as the occasional sparkling snowflake dusted her hair and cheeks.

The soft, swirling snow trickled down around them in that singular way winter snow tended to deaden all earthly sounds in a thick blanket of silence. The natural stillness of a dark January night surrounded them in the sort of lush quietude that could convince you that nothing else existed but for that which lay in the immediate vicinity. The reflected couple cut a fine picture of magic, draped in full robes and cloaks they appeared ethereal; belonging to another world entirely, but always belonging together.

But moving past this moment was a necessity, even as the trepidation of his mind warred with the certainty of his heart. Just as Hermione's brow furrowed in concern at his solemnity, Draco finally found his voice.

"This meaningless Muggle café saved my life on more than one occasion." He stepped closer to the windows, fingers poised just an inch from the glass before falling back down to his side.

"When I needed a routine, a simple task to get me out of bed in the morning, I could come here. When I needed to just begin my day without the awful reminder of my horrible past written on the scowling faces of the public, I knew I could seek refuge here."

Draco swallowed and turned to face her instead of the reflection.

"And when I needed something good in my life, in you came to steal my favorite table and disrupt my carefully crafted control." His lips quirked briefly. "But I was so… numb. I thought that's all life could be, that numbness would keep me alive and that would be enough. And didn't you burst into my world to prove, and not for the last time, how very wrong I was."

He gave a low chuckle. "I really should have seen you coming, but Merlin, I don't even think Trelawney would have predicted you barreling your way into my life the way you did."

Draco took her hand. "Because I've always seen you, Granger. Even when I was young and stupid you drew my eye."

Hermione's blazing eyes held his and Draco could see she knew exactly where this disjointed monologue would go. Because of course she could, clever witch. This woman would always be several steps ahead of him and Draco didn't care so long as she allowed him to continue trailing after her.

Though Hermione had completely seen right through him, her natural intelligence was only outshined by her capacity for compassion. She'd let him say all the words he needed to say.

"Not only are you impossible to ignore, you are simply an impossible person," Draco stated quietly, unable to speak louder even as part of him wanted to shout for the entire street, the entire world, to hear.

"You love me. Do you know how ridiculous, how improbable that is? No, love—" he shook his head and gave her a wry smile when he saw her mouth open furiously, a defense of him and their relationship on the tip of her tongue. "I've accepted it as fact, but you'll have to indulge me when I say it's improbable."

Hermione squeezed his hand instead, a glossy sheen already forming over her eyes as he ploughed on. "You deserve more than I could ever give to you, but what little I do have to offer is yours and it is yours forever."

Steady on, now. Keep breathing.

Draco sunk down on one knee in the snow before her, not caring that his trousers will come away cold and soaked. He'd wait down here forever if she wanted.

Hermione only took in the sight for a brief moment before she swiftly lowered herself down onto the wet pavement too. The look in her eyes was clear as day: we are equals in all things. Though Draco would happily prostrate himself before her, she would not accept any sort of elevation of her at the expense of him.

Draco pulled the small jewelry box from his breast pocket and propped it open to reveal the ring inside, and though the creak of the hinges echoed loudly around the empty street, Hermione only had eyes for him.

"If you'll have me, there is nothing I desire more in this world than to call you my wife. Hermione Granger, will you marry me?"

A few tears tracked down her pink cheeks, but her smile stretched wide with unrestrained joy. She swept her gaze over his face, focusing in on different features in turn, as if she wanted to memorize the whole of him; a thrilling and flattering manifestation of her overly studious nature as Hermione took mental notes and categorized Draco as something important, something to be remembered and reflected upon later. It was an intense scrutiny done in love, and though she had yet to answer his life-altering question, Draco felt no reason to fear a rejection. Finally, she exhaled shakily but replied firmly.

"Yes, Draco. Yes, I'll have you."

He yanked her towards him so quickly he almost toppled them both backwards onto the icy pavement. Hermione responded eagerly to his enthusiastic kiss and Draco's heart soared at the mind-boggling fact that he was kissing his fiancée. His future wife.

"I love you so much," she breathed against his lips and Draco finally gave up the fight with his composure. He rested his forehead against hers and drew in ragged breaths of the night air. Relief battled with elation and stole any response he might have made, and he succumbed to the weight of this perfect moment.

Hermione's trembling fingers tenderly swiped at his cheeks and when dry once more, she pressed her lips to both in turn. Draco made to tangle his hands in her hair to reclaim her mouth, but realized he still clutched the open ring box in his hand.

"Sorry, here." Draco plucked the ring from the case and tried to jam it onto her finger but Hermione laughed and pulled it away. "No, wrong hand, wrong hand!" she said and shoved her left hand towards him.

He tugged them both to standing and slid the ring onto the correct finger this time. Draco looked down at their joined hands and ran a thumb reverently along the shining stone that now signified Hermione's acceptance of him as her intended.

He met her gaze again to find her smiling mischievously and the next second she'd apparated them straight into her bedroom. Hermione knocked him flat onto the bed, both of them still in their slightly wet outerwear and snow-covered shoes. The empty ring box fell from his hand onto the floor as Hermione took possession of his mouth and ran her hands wantonly through his hair.

Though Draco wanted nothing more than to relish in this fantastic reaction to their brand new engagement, he'd honestly expected a different sort of response from Hermione.

"But—don't you—want to—hear about—or even look at—your ring?" He mumbled in between kisses, Hermione unwilling to let their mouths remain apart for more than a breath or so at a time. She pulled away to answer him.

"Don't you want to see the needlessly complicated lingerie I've been wearing all night?"

Draco groaned because the answer to that glorious question is only ever "of course," but he spent a fair amount of time designing this blasted thing and he needed a proper fawning from her. Reluctantly he eased them up to sitting, chuckling when Hermione pouted. Merlin, if he hadn't already been sure of his choice in a spouse, the fact that she'd rather shag him than gawk over pricey jewelry sealed his fate.

He watched her cradle her left hand in her right and gaze fondly at the new addition to her finger. After a few moments, she looked up at him and beamed.

"Is it an heirloom? It's so beautiful, I love amethyst."

Draco brought her hand up and kissed her fingertips. "Not an heirloom. I had it designed specifically for you." He tapped the purple stone. "And it's not just amethyst."

Draco gently removed the ring from her finger. He held it up by the band in front of her eyes. "See the dual band? They separate…" He pried one gold band from the other and maneuvered it up and over to reveal a different gem altogether. "And flip."

He slipped it back onto her finger and Hermione stared in awe at the engagement ring that now displayed a sizeable emerald. The combination of the two different stones might perplex others, but Draco knew Hermione would grasp the significance.

"Purple and green," she whispered. "It's… magic, yes? You chose the two colors that represent magic in its most basic forms?"

Green, traditionally the color of much "Dark" magic, and purple, the color of royalty and nobility. Taken together, they suggested the duality of magic: the noble and the ignoble, the creative and the destructive.

"Yes," Draco murmured. "Magic in its purest form is neither light nor dark. What matters is the person wielding it. And you, Granger, are the most naturally magical person I have ever known."

Hermione stared again at her ring in reverence, a new appreciation in her eyes as well as a new set of tears she hastily swiped away. "Oh Draco… it's perfect, I love it," she whispered. "I love you."

Before he could continue his explanation of all the care he'd put into this small object, she'd thrown off her cloak and made quick work of his, lips melded to his once more.

"So many blasted buttons," she huffed, frantic in her need to rid Draco of the rest of his clothing and cursing all the ornate fastenings of his dress robes.

"Wait, Granger…" He finally succeeded in prying her off him again. He shrugged off his robes and grabbed his wand to flick open all buttons, leaving him in his shirt and trousers. Hermione hummed in approval against his mouth as he swished his wand again to allow her robes to fall in a heap to the floor. She scrambled to straddle him and Draco skimmed his hands along the ruby-red satin corset she'd been apparently hiding from him all evening.

But he had one more point to make about the ring. "Before I shag you through this shoddy mattress, can I tell you one more thing?"

Hermione made some sort of exasperated growl against the skin of his neck, but stopped running her tongue along his pulse point.

He should be made a damn prefect of Hufflepuff at this rate.

"The amethyst and the emerald… they're uh… damn, what did Weasley call them? Ethical?"

She pulled back to gape at him. "Ethically sourced gemstones. Wait… you asked… you asked Ron? Ron knows!?"

Yes, the stupid git knows, he'd only been ogling Hermione's left hand at every opportunity since fucking June and then waggling his eyebrows at Draco.

"Oh… er yes. And Potter and Ginevra…"

Her mouth opened and closed a few times and Draco thought he might have temporarily broken her brain with this information. "You—you told my friends?"

"Yes, I had the unfortunate idea to ask their assistance with your ring preferences."

Though she'd been moved to delicate, quiet tears once or twice during this momentous evening, the notion that Draco consulted her bothersome friends on the engagement ring spurred her to noisy, gasping waterworks. Draco sighed and gathered her against his chest and let her cry it out and barely cringed when she basically used one of his best shirts as a handkerchief.

When Hermione collected herself, she looked up at him through streaming eyes. "We're getting married," she suddenly breathed, as if the idea had only just occurred to her.

"Yes Granger, you did agree. That is, if you still want me?" he asked cheekily.

"Draco," she replied as she pushed him back down and moved over him, "I want you every day for the rest of my life."


Draco woke to the delightful sensation of Hermione's mouth against his neck and her hand wrapped around his rapidly hardening cock.

"Good morning to me," he chuckled sleepily.

"Mmm, and me," she murmured and guided one of his hands in between her thighs.

"Fuck," Draco groaned and turned on his side to kiss her deeply. "Gods you're already so wet."

He anchored his free hand in her sleep-tousled curls and pressed her bodily back down into the mattress, their hands moving to caress one another while hips ground together desperately.

"Of course I am," Hermione responded breathily. "I was over here thinking about how you looked when you proposed to me."

He laved at her neck, then moved steadily down to her breasts, accepting one eagerly into his mouth when she arched her body up.

"Is that so?" He murmured against her nipple. "Perhaps I should ask you again, just to be sure it still has the same effect."

Draco worshipped her silently for a few minutes, his tongue and teeth savoring the taste of his fiancée.

His fiancée. Merlin.

"Marry me," he breathed along her bare chest.

"Yes," she whispered, voice and body quivering.

"Marry me," he spoke into the skin of her hip.

"Yes."

"Marry me," he intoned against her inner thigh.

"Yessssss..."

Draco crawled back up her body. "Marry me," he pressed the demand against her lips before thrusting inside her. "Oh yes… yes…"

Eventually they left the bed, or at least Hermione did.

The rest of the morning passed in a flurry of Floo calls to her various loved ones to inform them of the joyous news while Draco remained in bed and pretended not to eavesdrop. He heard the requisite squeals of delight from Ginny, Padma, Molly, and Astoria, and gruff congratulations from her male friends. When he was sure the living room was devoid of any red-heads or Potters in the fireplace, he snuck to the kitchen to finally partake in some coffee.

Hermione glowed with happiness while she bustled around with a mug of tea and informed her parents via her Muggle device. Draco could hear her mother's shriek of glee through the receiver. As she spoke excitedly through her phone, Draco noticed her eyes kept drifting down to the ring on her left hand. She would look at it for a second as if to confirm it truly existed, then give in to a small smile.

Draco flipped through the morning paper and listened to Hermione's half of the conversation with her parents. It rather sounded as if all three Grangers competed to see who could talk over whom, so palpable was everyone's excitement.

"No! No date yet!" A tinkling laugh. "We only just got engaged last night! Or well, today, really—the coffee shop—yes the one where we met—oh Mum, it was lovely it was snowing and everything—still in our party robes—yes on one knee—no I didn't know beforehand—only a little bit, I swear, and he cried too, you know—I'll send you a picture after our call—no actually, amethyst and emerald—a flip ring!—oh just wait, it's beautiful Mum, he had it made for me—I'm sure Ginny has some ideas—didn't even let me ask her just went ahead and claimed she'd be my maid of honor—Mum, that's thinking rather far ahead, don't you think?—yes of course—yes they all know, surprised you didn't hear Molly's scream all the way from the Burrow—would you mind terribly?—I don't think I have their numbers—of course, yes—yes you can tell them—thanks Mum—thanks Dad—me too—I'm very happy—of course, yes—yes I'll tell Draco—I love you, too—yes—I'm sure it's fine—we'll see you then—love you too."

The easy rapport built once more between Hermione and her parents puzzled him in a way that made him uncomfortable, forcing him to repress stray thoughts of familial relationships and their evolution.

"Mum and Dad invited us over for dinner tomorrow, is that all right?" she asked once she'd hung up, pulling him from his reverie.

"Sure, love," he replied, draining his coffee then buttoning up one of the spare sets of robes he kept in her closet. She eyed him appreciatively then arched a brow.

"And where do you think you're off to?" She tugged him down by his tie for a lingering kiss. "I thought we might celebrate our engagement again."

Fuck, he will buy her jewelry and propose every day from now until the end of time if it made her this insatiable. Unfortunately, he had a rather important task ahead of him.

"Though you are more tempting than you know, I think it'd be best if I inform my mother in person of our new relationship milestone."

"Ah," she replied and let go of his tie. "Would you like me to come with you?"

Though touched by her offer, Draco thought it best to handle this conversation solo, in case Narcissa's initial reaction was in any way unkind.

"I think I'd like to tell her alone, if that's all right."

Hermione nodded and pecked his lips. Draco knew she understood that he'd like to protect her in this one instance. He Flooed into one of the sumptuously decorated parlors of his mother's estate, and a house elf immediately greeted him.

"Mistress is in the south parlor, young sir."

Draco nodded and made off down the hall, but turned around after a few strides. "Sorry, what was your name?"

"Whimsy, young sir."

"Thank you Whimsy."

The little elf blinked once at him, then disapparated with a crack.

He found Narcissa seated primly on a chaise lounge, a slim volume in her hands. Draco paused at the threshold and suddenly, he was a child again, approaching his austere mother to report some news or other to her. She'd set aside her reading material and then give him her full attention, hands folded neatly in her lap while she waited for Draco to detail his recent exam scores or perhaps relay a message from Father.

He shook off the reverie and approached to peck her cheek. "Hello, Mother."

A small smile graced her features, possibly a genuine one.

"Hello, and to what do I owe this pleasant surprise? It is so rare for you to visit unannounced and on your own these days."

Draco ignored the underlying barb of her seemingly light remark.

"I've asked Hermione to marry me. She said yes."

He might as well have told her it had recently ceased snowing outside and despite the nip in the air, the weather would improve as the afternoon wore on.

"Which ring did you present her?

"I had one made for her."

A slow blink of her eyes.

"I see. Has a date been set?"

"Not yet, I only proposed last night. We've yet to discuss any formal plans for the wedding."

She released the faintest of sighs. "I suppose I can begin making some inquiries."

"If you could wait on that front, I think Hermione and I would prefer to decide a few things amongst ourselves first."

A slight flaring of her nostrils.

"Am I to be involved at all?"

"Of course, Mother, I'd simply like the opportunity to discuss with my fiancée about the level of pomp and circumstance we're comfortable with before rushing ahead with plans."

An unfolding of her hands.

"Perhaps I could host your engagement ball?"

"No balls, no galas," Draco said firmly. He had no need to consult Hermione on that decision as he knew full well she'd loathe the concept but would hesitate to refuse Narcissa.

A pursing of her lips. "A formal dinner then?"

"Fine," Draco conceded. "You'll include her parents?"

A soft clucking of her tongue.

"I suppose that meeting must take place at some point."

Draco couldn't resist a surly answer this time. "Yes, I'd prefer not to have to conduct introductions on the wedding day," he replied dryly.

An arched brow at his insolent tone.

"May I place an announcement in the Prophet?"

He considered the implications momentarily before determining this acquiescence to be relatively harmless. "You may."

He stared at his mother for a few silent beats, questions running wild through his mind and begging for release in one loud emotional outburst.

Are you happy for me? I'm so disgustingly happy, can't you tell? Do you know what Hermione means to me? Do you know that for once in my life my future looks blindingly bright? Do you know how jealous I am of the way Hermione spoke with her parents this morning? Do you know Aunt Andromeda is absolutely on the guest list for this wedding? Do you care that I don't know how to tell you any of this? How hard is it for you to even congratulate me? When will I be good enough?

"Right well… I'll leave you to your reading," Draco clipped and turned away. He'd only taken five steps when he heard her voice, softer than he'd ever heard it before.

"Draco? Would you have time to stay for tea?"

He whirled around in surprise to see his mother's chin set, but an open desperation in her blue eyes.

"Of course, Mother."


It only took two days after the item in the Daily Prophet announcing the recent engagement of one Draco Lucius Malfoy, son of Lucius Malfoy and Narcissa Malfoy (née Black) to Hermione Jean Granger, daughter of David and Jean Granger, for the Howler to arrive.

Draco expected it, of course, but it still disturbed his Thursday evening as he worked at his desk in the Franklin House library. Crick and Watson had returned his initial contract offer and the uppity little things had the gall to write in several additions. Draco suspected Hermione's influence, but ultimately decided to just sign off on the bloody thing and have done with it. Because of course he'd allow the brothers to tend their own personal portion of the garden and reap any profits from the sale of any bounty harvested.

Just as Draco finished making a copy of the contract to owl to his solicitors, the ominous scarlet harbinger of verbal abuse entered the library.

As he predicted, about every other word was "Mudblood" or some variation thereof, though the volume at which it came shrieking out of the envelope waxed and waned as Pansy detailed all the various and countless ways in which Draco was sullying his line, spurning his heritage, and ensuring a shameful legacy.

Grateful at least, that the Howler had found him alone and not with Hermione, he waited out her disgusting diatribe until every last drop of venom had been wrung from the enchanted parchment, instead of instantly banishing it.

Finally, the tirade ceased, leaving behind a few embers and more than a few regrets on Draco's part, and he glared at the ashy remains of the red envelope on his desk. He inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly, then pulled a sheaf of parchment towards him.

"Pansy,

I received your letter. I'm sorry to hear you feel that way about the life choices I have made. Do not address my future wife in that manner ever again.

Given your feelings about my decision to marry Granger, I'm not sure we might ever be friends again, but I hope one day you can forgive me for not treating you with the respect you deserved when we were younger.

If you ever need any assistance, please reach out to me. You might resent me, you might hate me, but I would never wish ill-will upon you. I wish you nothing but happiness Pansy, and I repeat, if you find yourself in need of help, I'd do what I could for you.

-Draco"


A/N: Hello and thank you all so very much for reading. This week has felt like a year and this year has felt like a decade and I am so grateful to those of you who read this story and interact with me here, on tumblr, and on discord.

Next chapter will be up on November 12. Come say hi or throw me an ask on tumblr: heyjude19-writing.

And please everyone, stay safe and healthy.