A/N: Yay! This story is FINALLY complete. I'm posting the two final chapters today, and I completed it just before this story reached its 11th birthday. Thank you all for reading, for your reviews, your feedback, and for your patience as I learned and grew as a writer, and as I continued to come back to and spiral back to this novel. Your willingness to keep reading across the years and the decade has meant so much.

I will be posting an independent one-shot (already written) soon that bridges this story and the sequel (A Courtly Romance, which follow's Hermione and Adam's daughter). You can expect that as a gift in early May.

Also, if you like my writing and want to support me, you can follow me on Instagram on kellynoelzeva where I post my poetry as well as other snippets from my life and work. In addition to writing, I am a holistic sex coach/educator, so if you do follow me there, please know that some of the content I post will be related to those topics.

Just thank you all SO, SO, SO much. I cannot express my gratitude that you have journeyed with me as I've written this fanfiction novel, where I've learned and grown so much as a writer and as a person.

28. Certain as the Sun

After a few moments, Belle's body began to relax, her shoulders loosened and opened up. She dropped into her chair just ever so slightly.

"I've missed you," she said, "and I don't trust you."

Draco inhaled sharply. "What about me don't you trust?"

"Zat zis is certain. Zat your feelings won't change in a few months."

He sat there for a moment, folded his fingers and leaned forward. "My feelings for you have been constant," he said slowly. "My commitment to them has not been."

Belle's eyes narrowed. "Zat is a technicality. It shows up and affects me precisely the same, either way."

"Fair enough," he admitted. "I'm open to things moving at whatever pace feels best to you. Watch me over time. You'll see I'm being sincere. You'll see I'm committed to cherishing you, committing to you."

To his surprise, Belle reached across the table and grabbed his hands and held them in her own. The conversation around the pub hummed in the background, but the two of them sat in silence. Draco moved his thumb back and forth over he skin, and he felt a warmth pool in his stomach and low abdomen. Merlin, how he cared for this woman.

"I love you, Belle," he said after a moment. "From the moment I met you in Knockturn Alley when you barely spoke English until now, I've known you to be an incredible woman. A person who is persistent, brave, intelligent, and kind. You're courageous. You inspire me to become a better version of myself; it's because of you that I've left my parents' influence and I've built a life on my own terms, and I'm so grateful to you for that."

Her eyes widening, she made to pull her hands back, and Draco held up his hand. She paused.

"What is Felix guiding you to do?" he asked.

She smiled shyly, pulled her hands back the rest of the way, and gazed at them in her lap. When she looked back up, she was biting her lip. Blushing. Dear Merlin, those cheeks.

"To kiss you," she said after a moment.

The warmth in Draco's abdomen grew. "My flat isn't far from here," he murmured. "Would you like to go back there?"

She nodded. "Let me just tell Harry where we're going. That way he won't worry about me."

Scooting the chair away from the table, Belle stood up and walked over to the dark-haired wizard who was chatting with a couple people at the bar. Draco kept his eyes on her, drinking her in. Watching the swish of her dress, her hips. How her hair bobbed slightly in his ponytail as she gestured and nodded. How she leaned to one side as she placed her hand on her hips.

For the love of Salazar, she drove him wild. It took all the restraint he had to wait at the table until she returned. Then she grabbed his hand and led him to the door.

Even though they could have taken the Floo or done side-along Apparition, they walked along Diagon Alley until they reached Draco's flat. He used his wand to unlock the building, then his flat, and gently guided Belle up the stairs, holding her hand the entire way.

By the time they reached the top of the stairs, they were both breathing heavily. In the dim light, Draco noticed that her lips were parted. She used her tongue to wet them, and the warmth and pulsing in his abdomen, and now, his groin, were growing. He took a deep breath to move some of the energy building inside him. Inhale, exhale. Inhale, exhale. Inhale, exhale.

That did the trick.

"If you like, you can sit there," Draco said, gesturing to the sofa. With a flick of his wand, fire began crackling in the fireplace. "Would you like anything to drink?"

Belle shook her head. "No thank you."

After pouring himself his own seltzer, Draco sat down across from Belle and studied her. She met his gaze with curiosity, then looked away as the seconds turned into more than a minute. Standing up, she moved to the fireplace, her fingers fidgeting.

"We don't have to do anything just because we're here, Belle," Draco offered. "I enjoy your company. Just being here with you is enough. Just seeing you feel free and happy is enough."

She glanced back at him, leaning against the fireplace. He crossed over to her, grabbed her hands, held them gently. "I want you to feel safe with me. I want you to be able to trust me. Whatever that takes, I will do it."

Her face was soft, golden, in the firelight. A loose wave escaped from her ponytail. Draco brushed it back behind her ear.

His tenderness did the trick. She began speaking in waves, more fluid and looser than her hair. "I want to date you. I want to write you letters. I want to get to know you beneath the veneer and the mask, Draco. I want you to be vulnerable with me. Like you have been. But more so. I want to…"

"Yes?" he asked, brushing her cheek with the back of his hand.

She shivered. "I-I've forgotten what I was saying," she admitted, closing her eyes for a moment, tilting her head back.

"You're so open," he murmured. "May I kiss you?" he asked.

Belle nodded, her eyes still closed, her lips parting, her breathing ragged. Draco leaned in so that she could feel his breath on her lips, and when he was just centimeters away, he instead bent down and pressed his lips to her neck.

She gasped, and Draco grabbed her more tightly, placing one hand on the back of her head, and the other wrapped around her waist. Belle wrapped her hand in his hair and pulled him closer, pressing her body against him.

He responded, moving his lips from her neck to her lips and started guiding her toward the sofa. They both sat there, touching each other, exploring each other, merging with each other's energy. It felt soft and sacred and intimate, there in the firelight, just being with each other.

After what seemed like both seconds and hours, Draco pulled away for a moment. "I want to make sure this is what you want. That it's not just the heat of the moment."

He stepped away and stood up. Belle's breathing calmed, but there was still a smoldering intensity to her brown eyes. "Yes," she said. "This is what I want. You're what I want."

She kissed him, and the waves of love, care, and energy began flowing over them again. Draco broke the kiss once more.

"Would you like to go back to the bedroom together?" he murmured.

Belle nodded fervently, closing the space between their mouths. He helped her to stand, picked her up, and carried her into the bedroom and gently closed the door behind him.

As she lay on the bed, Draco felt so many things simultaneously. The warmth in his low abdomen and groin. His racing pulse. And also the profound desire to continue building the trust of the beautiful being in front of him. Tonight, Draco knew, his sole focus was making this gorgeous woman in front of him feel like a goddess, for her to see the unique magic that existed within her, even though she was a Muggle.

"I want you to lean back," he said, "and relax."

She did so, her eyes closing. And Draco spent the rest of the night worshipping and adoring her body, bringing her to climax after climax until all the pleasure and energy and love between them subsided into a gentle ember that bonded them together as they cuddled.

HP*BATB*HP*BATB*HP*BATB

The next morning, Belle awoke alone in the bed. She was confused for just a moment when she saw a note on the bedside table nearest her. I'm an early riser, the note read in an elegant cursive. When you're ready, come join me in the kitchen, and we'll have breakfast together.

Setting the note back down, Belle slid out from under covers and quickly put last night's clothes back on. She smelled… funny. Not bad, but just full of sweat and salt and… something else. While she remembered last night, she was having trouble distinguishing more than just feeling Draco's mouth on her, feeling intense sensations… well, everywhere… and feeling more pleasure than she ever had in her life.

To be honest, it was a lot to process, and Belle still wasn't entirely sure how to interact with Draco when she did see him in the kitchen. Drumming up her courage, she opened the door and walked through the living room, toward the kitchen.

There he was, reading The Daily Prophet, drinking a mug of black coffee. She watched him for a moment, as he stirred a spoon in his mug, mouthing the words as he was reading, completely absorbed. She cleared her throat, and he looked up. An uncharacteristic grin broke across his face.

"You're awake," he said, standing up, reaching toward the pantry. "Breakfast?"

Belle shook her head. "No, no thank you, Draco." She wrapped her arms around her mid-section again.

Draco's grin faded, and he closed the pantry door he had just opened. "Is everything all right?" he asked.

"Yes—no—I don't know," Belle admitted as she sat down. "May I have some coffee?"

"Sure," Draco said slowly. "Let me brew a fresh pot."

He waved his wand, and the coffee grounds tipped into the machine, which glugged happily. Then, they waited, while the coffee brewed and drip-dripped into the glass pot beneath it. Grabbing a mug, Draco set a steaming cup of black coffee in front of Belle.

"Cream? Sugar?" he asked.

She shook her head. "This is fine."

To be honest, it was more for the warmth and the caffeine than the taste. Something to hold. Something to be present with as her thoughts raced when she thought about last night. "I want to talk about last night, Draco," she said finally. "Last night was…"

"Spectacular?" Draco quipped, a small smirk on his face.

She gave him an admonishing look. "Unexpected," she emphasized.

Draco instantly became sober. "I'm sorry if I pushed you into anything you didn't want. In hindsight, it would have been wise to wait until you weren't on the Felix Felicis anymore. I don't know how much you had and how long it was in your system."

Belle nodded. "I enjoyed myself," she said. "But zen it goes back to trust and trusting you and…"

"Trusting yourself?" Draco offered.

For the love of the crowned prince, he was infuriating sometimes. "Will you let me finish?" she asked, exasperated. She set down the coffee mug a little harder than she meant to, and some of it splashed over the sides. "Oh, I'm sorry, Draco, I didn't mean to…"

He waved it away, and stood up, grabbing a towel. He placed it on the spill. "No bother. Please continue. I promise not to interrupt."

"Last night was unexpected. I-I knew I wanted to kiss you, and zen it was so warm, and you brought me to ze bed it was just so… so…"

Draco folded his fingers together, waiting. He said nothing, and she almost wished he would. Words failed her. It would be easier if he kissed her again. Draco pushed up the sleeves of his sweater, and Belle saw the faded tattoo on his left arm. He'd told her not to worry about it and had kissed her neck, her collar bone… her entire body… and then when he'd taken off his shirt, his pale skin gliding with hers…

Belle shook her head. "I can't sink straight."

Standing up and crossing over to her, Draco placed his hands on her elbows. "If you want to go slow, we can do that. Whatever boundaries you want to have, I'm willing to honor them. If you don't want me to take off any of your clothes or mine unless we're married—"

She nodded fervently. "Yes, yes, I sink zat would be a very good idea, mon cher."

Draco half-smiled. "Then it's done." He leaned forward and raised an eyebrow. "I said that if you saw me over time, you'd see I'm committed."

Belle nodded, still unable to speak.

"May I kiss you?" Draco asked.

Another nod, and then he wrapped her into a breathless embrace. Eventually Draco pulled away. "I'd like to take you on a date. A real date. Something special. Something you've never done before."

She smiled, placing her hands around his neck. "Papa talks fondly of the time he took Mama to the ballet for their honeymoon. I've always been curious what that might be like."

The corner of his mouth quirked up. "Well, now it won't be much of a surprise, I suppose. But the ballet it is. Muggle or Wizard?"

"Muggle," Belle said definitively. She stifled a chuckle when she saw the distinctly disgruntled look on Draco's face. "You did ask," she pointed out.

"Fine," he muttered. Then his expression softened. "And really, as long as I'm there with you, that's all that matters to me."

Belle's heart thudded against her ribcage, and she stood up on her toes to kiss him again.

HP*BATB*HP*BATB*HP*BATB

The week passed quickly. Draco had finally given his notice and only had two more weeks left at the apothecary shop, and then, he decided, he would take the first two weeks of August as holiday before making the trek to Scotland where he would get settled in as one of the resident Potions Masters.

He met Belle for lunch a couple times, and they held hands under the table. There were a couple times where Belle pulled her hand away and blushed, but in general, she was continuing to warm to displays of affection.

"When are we going to ze ballet?" she asked that second time they met.

"Impatient, are we?" he teased, taking another bite of his salad.

Belle scrunched her face at him. "No, silly," she said, "I'll be working longer hours in August as students prepare to return to Hogwarts, so I wanted to know if there's a day you'd like me to clear or hold the evening."

"I've already arranged it with Mr. Tinley, so you needn't worry."

She leaned back, crossed her arms, and raised an eyebrow. "Oh, you have, have you?"

Draco paused, his forkful in midair. "Is something wrong?"

Belle bit her lip. How to say this tactfully. She paused. She'd been doing that a lot more this week. Where Draco was ice, she could be fire. "Isn't it… I don't know… a bit controlling not to let me know when or where?" she said carefully, at last.

Draco's posture became rigid, his face cool. Belle thought she'd offended him. But then he set down his fork and took a deep breath. Inhale, exhale. "If it feels that way, I can let you know when we're going," he said. "My intention was to keep it a surprise."

Belle covered his hand with her own. "No, keep it a surprise. Zat's wonderful. Maybe just let me know ze week we're going?"

A small half-smile. "That I can do. We're going next week before I go on holiday. Then I'm planning to be in London for just a couple more days to see you before going to Scotland."

Her heart sank at these words. "You're leaving so soon?"

He nodded, picking up his fork again. "I'm visiting my best mate, Blaise Zabini, and his family in Italy, and the Portkey leaves a week from Sunday. My mother has also requested that I spend a couple days with her in Wiltshire before I go to Scotland. Eight days with my mate, two with my mum. Then I'll be back."

"Oh, good to know." She picked up her sandwich and kept eating.

They spent the rest of their lunch engaged in small chatter, for Belle couldn't find it in her heart to discuss anything deeper than the weather, popular books at Flouish and Blotts right now, or the funny things that Teddy had done on their last visit to see Andromeda.

They'd talked about him going to Hogwarts, of course, and Belle knew that was happening soon. She just hadn't realized how limited her time with Draco would be. Once he was at Hogwarts, it would be just weekends, if that.

By the time they said goodbye and Belle was back at the bookshop, she knew she needed to keep herself busy the rest of the day. Maybe the rest of the week. Romance novels in a state like this wouldn't be useful. So she pored herself into her work, only coming up for air when helping a customer, spending time with Draco, taking meals with Harry, or

In that way, another week—Draco's final week in London—passed quickly, in an indecipherable blur.

Belle had almost forgotten about the ballet when Mr. Tinley tapped the countertop in front of her on Friday afternoon.

"Mr. Malfoy will be here for you in two hours. He's sent over someone to help you get ready, as well as this." The bookseller was holding a large black garment bag. He handed it to Belle, resting it in her arms. There was a soft crinkle and swish, and goodness, was it heavy.

"What is—" Belle started to ask, but Mr. Tinley threw up his hands.

"I don't know. All I know is that Mr. Malfoy asked me to give this to you and said it's for tonight. He said he wanted you to feel adored, like the belle of the ball. There was a note," Mr. Tinley added, at Belle's stunned face.

She made her way to the loo, and locked the door. Unzipping the garment bag, she unveiled a beautiful emerald satin gown. When she touched it, it felt like skimming her fingers over water, soft and serene and safe. Belle inhaled, then exhaled. Then, gently, there was a knock on the door. Belle unlocked it.

"Hello, dearie," a small, wizened witch said as she tottered over the threshold. "You must be Miss Belle. Master Draco sent me over to help you get ready for tonight. Hair and makeup charms, as well as assisting you with your dress."

The witch made quick work of the dress, instructing Belle to strip down to her underthings, then to step into the dress. She did, and the witch waved her wand. The dress zipped and laced itself, and melded itself to Belle's body. Then, a few more waves of her wand and some potions later, Belle was permitted to look in the mirror. When she did, she gasped.

Her chocolate brown hair, which was usually straight and sleek, glistened, and cascaded down in beautiful large curls, pinned to the side. Her cheeks were rosier, her eyes brighter, her lashes longer, her lips plumper. She really didn't recognize herself.

After the witch helped Belle with her shoes and her gloves, they walked back into the main area. Mr. Tinley was tidying the bookshelves when she emerged. "Wow, Belle," he said, "you look…"

"Stunning," another male voice said.

Belle turned around. There, in tuxedo robes and with a single red rose in his hand stood Draco. His hair was shorter, and he smelled divine. Like leather and musk and… something else she couldn't quite place.

"For you," he said, holding out the rose with a slight bow.

Belle took it from him. "Merci beaucoup," she said, a broad smile across her face.

"Shall we?" he asked. She nodded, and they left the shop and headed into Diagon Alley.

Once they made their way through the Leaky Cauldron and emerged into Muggle London, Draco steered them into a black town car that was already waiting for them. As soon as they sat down, the car began driving. Belle felt prickles in her stomach, fear or excitement, she couldn't tell.

Both, a voice inside her said sagely.

Finally, they reached a large white building, with a domed glass portion, and a more square, pillared section. The building reminded her vaguely of Gringotts except that there was something older, more pristine about this building.

"The Royal Opera House," Draco murmured. "Where the Royal Ballet performs here in London."

They exited the town car, and it quickly drove away. Theirs was not the only one lined up, so Belle and Draco quickly climbed up the steps into the building. Draco gave their tickets to a concierge once they were inside, and they were ushered to a private box. Though there were four seats in the box, Draco placed his overcoat and Belle's wraps across two of the seats.

"It's just the two of us this evening," he said, smiling, grabbing her hand.

The prickles intensified. Belle reminded herself to keep breathing.

She and Draco chatted as the other audience members found their seats, and then the lights dimmed. The conductor raised his baton, and the orchestra began to play. Such sweet melodious music, but Belle could only just begin to take it in before the curtain rose and the ballet began.

The dancers flitted gracefully across the stage, in perfect time to the music. Some made broad sweeping motions, and others very quick flutters. The music wove around her and through her and she felt truly immersed and engaged. Throughout the first act, Draco kept his arm around her, gently touching her neck and collarbone. Belle shivered.

When the lights came up during intermission, Draco turned to face her. "Are you enjoying yourself?" he asked.

"Very much so, monsieur," she replied. "Zis is such a wonderful experience."

They sat there in silence, just looking at each other. Belle reached back and brushed Draco's hair. He closed his eyes and held her hand more tightly. When he came back to the room, he smiled. How she loved his smile. Because then she saw him beneath the cool façade, beneath the uncaring aloof persona he tried to play off.

"I love you, Belle," he said simply. She looked away.

The second act started with intensity. Belle took her eyes away from the stage to watch Draco for a few moments, noticing that he was gazing at the stage with as much fervor as she had during the first part of the ballet. Eventually, he caught her staring, and the corner of his lips quirked up.

"Like what you see?" he asked.

Belle looked away, blushing. But she grabbed his hand and held it for the rest of the performance.

When the lights came up at the end of the ballet and the entire audience was clapping, standing in ovation, Belle snuck another glance at this man. So much more carefree than when they had met. So much more present with himself, in himself, than he had been before. How much good leaving his parents' rule had done for him. How much good making his own way in the world and building his own wealth had done for him. Transformed him.

To think she had once thought him so beastly, detestable. Unkind, unfeeling. He had changed. He had learned. He had grown.

As the curtain fell once more, and the lights came up, Draco grabbed his overcoat and her wrap. "The car will be waiting for us," he said finally. "Let's go."

Still holding hands, they departed, winding their way to the town car and then, finally, back towards 12 Grimmauld Place. Draco stepped out of the car, and the driver opened the door for Belle. Draco placed her hand on his arm and walked with her up to the steps.

"This is where I leave you," he said, pressing a small kiss to her lips. "Have a wonderful night, Belle."

"Will I see you again?" she blurted out.

He paused on the stairs and turned toward her, smiling. "I'll be back in London in two weeks' time. In the meantime, I heartily welcome your letters. And I'll write to you as well."

"Draco?" she said in a small voice.

"Yes, Belle?"

"Zank you. And I-I love you, too."

He grinned, and it was so unlike the man that she had first met that day in Knockturn Alley that she blinked several times to make sure that she wasn't hallucinating. He gathered her up in an embrace and they kissed until the town car driver honked at them. And finally, Draco jogged away, smiling.

"Two weeks," Belle murmured.

But somehow, she knew, that this was a turning point. Certain as the sun would rise in the east tomorrow, the bond between her and Draco had become something real, tangible, strong, powerful. That even though there would undoubtedly be challenges that they would each face, and face together, that this—just like the sunrise—was just the beginning of their story together.