A/N: Hello all! This Is for the awesome Avatard99! They were the ones who had showed me the Phantom of the Opera Sequel, Love Never Dies - which is what this one shot is written around. This happens to be a very specific fic and it might only be a decent read if you have seen Love Never Dies. If you decide to take the chance and read it, then I thank you and ask that you listen to Beneath a Moonless Sky before reading.

Muggle London's skyline was a sight that still felt surreal to him, even after he had moved the headquarters of Malfoy Enterprises here several years ago. He took a moment to take in the lights that slowly started to flicker on in the twilight sky before he cast his gaze down to the slow moving dots of people walking in the street. How muggles chose to walk to their destination or take the tube mesmerized him. It made him wonder how they found a fulfilling work-life balance when they had so little time to spend outside of traveling.

Time.

A woeful smile and a shake of his head was followed closely by Draco taking a sip of his whiskey. His eyes slid down to the Royal Opera House that was directly across from his top-level office. He intentionally sought out this location to rebuild his family's name, as the theatre house was a reminder: A reminder that he needed to do better. He needed to undo what his father and other purist Malfoys like Lucius had encouraged.

So perhaps one day, he would feel worthy enough for her.

As much as the view was captivating, it was as equally painful. Draco had learned from serving the Dark Lord that pain was a great motivator, and after five years he decided he would have to act earlier than anticipated. With another drink of his whiskey, he reassured himself that what he was doing would be okay. He mentally ran through the list of all the changes he had made in not just his life, but others. He thought that perhaps in another timeline, she would have been the one to tell him that he deserved happiness and that he was worth the struggles they persevered. In this universe though, he was alone in the dark of the business world while she was a talented, rising star.

He told her she would one day make it in the Royal Opera House and she did. He was proud of her, more than he thought she would ever know now that tonight would be her last performance in London.

He downed the last of the whiskey in his attempt to stop his inner demons from talking him out of seeing the opera tonight. It didn't work. You told yourself you wouldn't see her until you were satisfied with how far you came. Why are you going when you are still not enough? Draco refused to ponder the question too long. He knew what the answer was, and even though he felt he did not have the right to be completely enamored by her, Draco still found himself pulling on his best suit jacket. He had seen himself as a coward ever since the end of the war four and a half years ago, and for one night since, he decided he would not be an utter poltroon - even if it was to be pure torture.

From the time he got into his office's private lift to the time it took for him to be seated by an usher, his hands started to shake uncontrollably - despite the spirit that was coursing through his veins. He thought about ordering champagne to calm his nerves when he made it to his private box on the Donald Gordon Grand Tier level, but decided against it. While he chose seating that was considered to give a 'terrible view' of the stage, according to his mother's high standards, he still wanted a clear memory of tonight's performance.

While he had read that Love Never Dies was a hit in the London Evening Standard, he had failed to read what it was about. This dawned on him as the first song started and he watched every move that the acrobats and contortionists on stage had made. Wondering when he might see her, he looked down at the Program booklet he was handed when he turned in his ticket. His private booth was dark, but he didn't dare cast a spell in a theater filled with muggles. In the faint lighting, he was still able to zero in on her name every time it came up. It was almost as if it called out to him: Co-Director: Hermione Jean Granger, Co-writer: Hermione Jean Granger.

And then finally: Christine de Changey: Hermione Jean Granger.

"It's a large crowd tonight. I suspect we filled every seat." Hermione looked over at the lead who would be playing her husband, Raoul, in the play.

Hermione, who had been training as a classical Sopranist since she could talk, learned early in life that looking at the crowds only made her nerves worse. When she had finally decided to step back into the opera scene after the war, the anxiety only worsened with every blonde head she happened to catch sight of.

Soon after this discovery, she used the time she had backstage to read. Often, she read rare tomes with muggle-repelling covers, as she was still as fascinated with learning about magic at twenty-three as she was at twelve. "It's possible, although not likely. The Royal Opera House usually reserves seventy seats for same day purchases. What are the chances of those being bought in one day?" She turned the page, but looked up to smile so her partner would not take her dismissive fact the wrong way.

He didn't look back as he rolled his eyes at the insufferable know-it-all and, technically speaking, boss. "I suppose you're right. Either that or some bloke bought out a whole box for himself. Check him out in the first balcony to the right when you get the chance."

"Mmmm." Hermione finished the last part of the paragraph she was reading before tuning in to the song that was just starting on stage. When she recognized it as Till I Hear You Sing she closed her book and started to prepare herself by drinking a glass of water before going on stage after the next song. She couldn't help but grin thinking about how tonight was only the start of new beginnings. Finally, I'll be leaving everything that reminds me of him behind.

Thanks to the program, Draco knew exactly when Hermione would appear and he had his omnioculars at the ready for her entrance. He watched her with rapt attention, taking in every inch that he could. The sight of her left his mouth dry. It had been too long. He didn't realize how much he missed seeing her in person. The various grays the The Daily Prophet and the London Evening Standard supplied him with literally paled in comparison at seeing the real thing.

Purebloods weren't raised to familiarize themselves with any gods, but he would have sworn until his last breath that she was handcrafted by God himself. Her voice, even when she simply talked to the male lead on stage, drew him in with its melodious cadence.

Draco thought of their sixth year at Hogwarts, the year he secretly defected after taking the mark all because of her. She never knew it - he didn't give her the chance to let her know - but she saved his life then. Even now, he used her very existence as a means to keep going. Draco closed his eyes, wishing he could leave or regret his decision to come, but he couldn't. How his heart would beat for her when they snuck off into the hidden music room at Hogwarts, was the same exact way it still beat for her now.

When she started to sing Look With Your Heart with the young boy who was supposed to be Christine Daaé's son, he practically melted. He teared up as he was flooded with memories of shy, stolen kisses, and promises that he had to break. Promises that he had made to her. I shouldn't be here. I left so she could have all of this - I shouldn't be looking back now. But he couldn't move a muscle. He was a moth drawn to the flame that was Hermione.

Draco knew of the Phantom of the Opera through Hermione and he wasn't surprised that she helped write a sequel to her favorite play. He never forgot that she once confided to him that she dreamed of playing Christine one day on stage, and was elated underneath all the sorrow he felt to see she finally did it. When Hermione started to sing Beneath a Moonless Sky, he was floored. He thought she was the most talented singer before, but now he thought she had surpassed what he had once considered to be perfection.

As he listened to the song though, it started to dawn on him how big of a mistake this might have been as he processed the lyrics of a night Christine and The Phantom shared.

A night that sounded eerily like one that he and Hermione once shared themselves, several years ago.

Hermione remembered breaking three times after Voldemort's return. All three times happened in the span of one year.

One was for the Fallen Fifty at the Battle of Hogwarts, but two times happened because of Draco Lucius Malfoy.

Beneath a Moonless Sky was one of the most difficult pieces she had ever composed and it was also the hardest number for her to perform. Not because the song was so demanding with the long, high notes, but because it came from a place that she was still healing from. It didn't help that she drew out her passion by imagining it was Draco under The Phantom's mask, having the conversation she imagined would give her closure, but one she didn't think she would ever have.

Hermione sat on the Chaise Lounge chair as she and her male lead sang a part in sync, "And with every breath and every sigh."

"I felt no longer scared." She confessed.

"I felt no longer shy." The Phantom sang back.

And in duet: "At last our feelings bared / Beneath a moonless sky."

Hermione felt the stage fall away from her once she was fully in character and she stood, taking a step closer to the actor she desperately wished had platinum blonde hair and gray eyes. "And blind in the dark / As soul gazed in to soul / I looked in to your heart / And saw you pure and whole."

Hermione had to admit that this was a selfish song. She wanted to say she didn't know why, after the two teens had given themselves to each other entirely, he left her locked in the Room of Requirement, but that would be a lie. It was the day before Draco let the Death Eaters in the ancient castle and he was done using her, distracting her and Harry from the secret he kept that was the Vanishing Cabinet.

At least that was what she was left to reason with. Once upon a time, she had hoped that he had done it to keep her safe from the Death Eaters running amok, but he refused to return any owl she sent him after he was acquitted.

"And when it was done / Before the sun could rise," Hermione pushed the actor away as he sang before she rounded the piano placed on stage. When she looked up though, she made a mistake and looked at the box the other Raoul had mentioned before, causing her to lock eyes with Draco himself. Hermione hadn't hallucinated he was in the audience in years and she felt genuine tears building at the vision of him. It almost broke her out of character. She reasoned she was seeing him now due to it being her last night in London. "Ashamed of what I was / Afraid to see your eyes / I stood while you slept." Always the professional, she cast her watery gaze back on to The Phantom, preparing herself for the next verse. "And whispered a goodbye / And slipped into the dark / Beneath a moonless sky."

"And I loved you! Yes I loved!" Hermione sensed the shift in the attention she held with how pure the emotion was in her words. "I'd have followed anywhere you led / I woke to swear my love / And found you gone instead."

With the tears now racing down her painted cheeks, she could see the excitement flash in her partner's eyes at her singing as he joined in. "And I loved you / And I left you / And I had to, both of us knew why (We both knew why) / And yet I won't regret / From now until I die / The night I can't forget / Beneath a moonless sky."

Hermione glanced behind the actor and saw that Draco was still there. Her stomach dropped to her feet at the realization she wasn't imagining Draco being in attendance. It was the omnioculars pressed to his face that gave him away. She had no doubt he was using the zoom feature to catch every micro-expression on her face.

And she was livid.

"And now?" The actor she had wished was Draco only moments before extended a hand to her at his scripted question.

Hermione made sure every ounce of venom was in her voice and as she appraised the actor's inviting hand with a disgusted look. "How can you talk of now? For us, there is no now."

When she first brought the song to her co-writer and idol, Andrew Lloyd Webber, he had asked her why these choice of words for Christine to answer with. For the first time, Hermione didn't have the gall to be transparent with an authoritative figure with something so personal. She poured her heart into the printed manuscript and she couldn't find the energy to admit she wanted to reclaim the words that broke her heart a second time when the only man she ever loved seemed to have a change of heart.

When Hermione made it backstage to change costumes, she was shaking, only it was no longer purely from fury. As soon as her rage had come, it practically gave way to a longing aching in her chest. He didn't come to a single performance since he shut me out. Why is he here now? What does he want?

"Hermione, are you all right?" She felt someone lightly touch her forearm. Looking up she saw the actress who played the female Harlequin, holding the silk dress Hermione was to wear for the next scene. "You look like you saw a ghost."

"Ha!" Hermione let out the laugh so she wouldn't give in to her urge to cry. It only occurred to her a moment later the action made her look barmy. "Ha, ha! I get it, cause of the Phantom!" The Harlequin gave a polite smile in her attempt to humor Hermione's awkwardness as everyone else around them angrily bustled to and fro backstage. Hermione quickly schooled her features and took the dress from the actress' arms. "Nerves." She stated in a weak attempt to explain her odd behavior. "But it's hardly the time for me to lose the plot, now is it?" Hermione hardly took a step forward before the young actress stopped her again.

"Sorry ma'am, I just wanted to say you're doing really well tonight. There was a lot more emotion to your acting than usual - Not that you aren't a convincing Chri -"

Hermione held up a hand to stop the girl from rambling as the minor actor was known to do. She nodded her thanks and the girl bashfully shuffled off to the side stage while Hermione located a nearby dressing room. She reminded herself of the tight schedule she and her crew were on, knowing that tonight's paramount performance was not to be dashed away on someone from her past.

Performing the vocal warm-ups that had been ingrained in her since she first started singing, she was able to remove the lump from her throat just in time for her to go back on stage and face the man who broke her heart.

I should leave, it's evident that she doesn't want me here. Draco felt cold chills run the length of his spine, despite the fact he was beginning to break a sweat. He knew she saw him, the evidence was clear in her eyes as she struggled not to break character from the shock of seeing him again. She wrote our last night into the goddamned play. He knew he didn't have a right to be angry at that. While he felt he had a good reason for severing their relationship at the time, the way in which he went about it was despicable. He had always been a bit of a coward. She deserved a conversation, a clean break, not being ignored until she eventually gave up on him.

Draco had regretted a lot since Voldemort had entered his life, but that had nearly been at the top of his list. He did everything he could to try and get back into the good graces of the wizarding world first to prove he was sorry; He started with happily paying his family's reparations, then he started publicly speaking positive on Muggles and Muggle-borns before he started working on creature rights – something that she had always been passionate about and something she still spoke on when she was free of her duties as an actress.

There was a number being performed by The Phantom and Christine's son, but Draco was hardly listening as his own thoughts went rampant in his mind. Is she hurting like I am? She shouldn't be, she has everything now. Would she care if I attempted to explain why I did what I did? He sucked in a pained breath at the next question that came to mind:

Would she even care to know?

That question had Draco rubbing his furrowed brow with a shaky hand. Would it hurt me more if she moved on when I hadn't? Or that she hasn't been as happy as I thought she would be? What if -?

Hearing Hermione singing again pulled him out of the rabbit hole he was falling down. Forcing himself to focus on the action on stage, he saw The Phantom was confronting Christine about the love child she kept from him for ten years, and Draco felt The Phantom's words drifted into his head over his own inner turmoil: Do you have something to confess? I want the truth right now, if so. Draco laughed bitterly. He was aware that he still had the terrible habit of thinking the world evolved around him and constantly fought with his initial reactions to what he labeled as 'signs' daily. Just because wizards often didn't believe in gods, didn't mean they weren't superstitious.

But this time, he didn't want to put a damper on the hope that started to build within him. If she would listen to me, if she would give me that chance... Draco pressed the omnioculars to his face to watch Hermione disappear into the darkness of back stage before the curtains were closed for the intermission. Maybe I could get some closure before she decides that I need to stay out of her life. In the very least, I need to apologize.

Draco lost his nerve to confront Hermione several times throughout the rest of the play. Her performances were heart wrenching for him, especially every time she snuck a glance at his box to see if he was still there. There was two scenes in particular that he thought helped him solidify his decision to see her once more: Hermione, as Christine, singing the aria The Phantom wrote called Love Never Dies - A song that didn't just give him hope not just because of the lyrics, but because Hermione refused to look in his direction the entire song – Perhaps she wrote this song with me in mind, too? - and Christine's death scene.

If only the Phantom didn't leave her, they would have lived a happy life. They would be together with their son. The story touched Draco to the point he was aware he would lie to his secretary on Monday when she asked if he cried during the end of the show, like she predicted he would.

As soon as he thought this though, his certainty on what he should do was ripped from under him in the time it took to take his next breath. The Phantom and Raoul shared a look as they both held Christine's lifeless body before The Phantom gave a respectful nod before disappearing off stage. Draco was in awe. Gustave was The Phantom and Christine's son, yet he chose to walk away a second time, recognizing the consequences of him trying to be somewhere he wasn't wanted. He recognized that Christine would have lived if he never invited her to the island in the first place. If only he left her alone - Draco felt suspended in time as the curtains closed and the audience's cheers roared from their standing ovation.

Perhaps it's best if I leave things as they are.

Hermione felt her face blanch after reappearing on stage with her co-writer, Andrew Lloyd Webber, and their cast to greet the applauding crowd before them. He left. When did he leave? Was it after the aria? Was it during the death scene? Her grin felt as plastic as the mask The Phantom donned and she was vaguely aware that she was being passed a large bouquet of roses. She tried to be mentally present as the last speech was made about how their cast and crew would now be traveling the world, but she was shaking from the rage and misery that swirled within her. He ran away again, the bloody coward. She almost wanted to say that Peter Pettigrew showed more backbone than him.

When she exited the stage, she practically ran to her dressing room after dumping the bouquet into the nearest rubbish bin. She didn't know why she wanted Draco to stay through to the end, it would not have meant they would start talking again. He should have done when he did all those years ago and kept his distance. I could have lost everything had I cocked up! The critics would have had a field day!

In the solace of her dressing room, she finally let a sob escape her. The pain started in her chest, but soon her body was vibrating with the intense ache of heartbreak. She hadn't felt like this in years, but now she felt as if she had woken up the day after Draco escaped with Professor Snape, leaving her in the castle to pick up what he had torn apart in her. The painful pulsing was almost unbearable, and soon she was doubled over, hands covering her face as if she could hide from the pain. I shouldn't care! I shouldn't hurt this much! Why do I care?

Knock. Knock. Knock. "Miss Granger? Are you decent?" She recognized the voice belonging to the actress who played the Harlequin.

Shit. Hermione immediately put two fingers in her mouth and bit down to stop her crying. Shit, shit, shit. "One moment!" She hoped that her voice did not sound like she was in any type of distress as she worked to regain control of her crying. Once she stopped, she hastily packed on powder and blush where the heavy costume make up had been disturbed by her tears, allowing her to look decent once again.

There was a soft rumble of voices followed by a high-pitched giggle before she responded. "Alright. We don't want to keep your fan waiting!"

Hermione let out a soft groan before focusing on reapplying her eyeliner. She adored anyone who was a fan of the theater, but from a distance. The fans had the habit of being awkward around her or being utterly starstruck to the point that they stared at her, mouth agape, before they spewed random facts about her or Andrew in an attempt to impress her. It was too much like seeing a Veela in person at times, and it was too weird to be comfortable. Hermione had also dealt with her fair share of extremist fans who tried to cross the lines of personal boundaries. You know, she thought to herself as annoyance started to distract her from the pain in her chest. I could have sworn I said I would no longer meet with fans several nights ago, when I had to stun a bloke for following me backstage. She was going to give an earful to her partners after she met with this fan. She didn't care how much this fan paid extra to meet with the cast.

Hermione glanced around the room, making sure that all magical artifacts were safely stored away before peering in the mirror once more. "Smile, Hermione." She looked into her amber eyes as she said this. They were the first words her boss had ever said to her when she signed her contract to work on Love Never Dies and it never failed to remind her that business was always needed to be handled with a smile on her face. That's what the entertainment business was, wasn't it? "So sorry to keep you waiting!" Hermione half slipped into the character of Christine as she opened the door as it was a façade that most fans wanted to see.

The minor actress half shoved her body into the room to frantically whisper to Hermione. "I'm sorry to disturb you Miss Granger, but he's actually someone who is looking to be a bit of a sponsor. Management insisted I respect his wishes, and, well, " Hermione leaned in to hear her whisper better as her eyebrows came together. "He specifically asked to talk to you alone, but I would be more than happy to remain present if you feel uncomfortable. I know you just asked to stop seeing folks and -"

"I can handle it." Hermione nodded before letting the mask of Christine fall. Sponsors liked to play a completely different game, which was honestly a relief after a tiring performance. While the production of Love Never Dies had been successful, it never hurts to make friends with people who were willing to fund what they loved.

The actress nodded and disappeared behind the door and Hermione looked down at her dress to fix anything that may be askew. She didn't look up until she heard the soft click of the lock when the door closed behind the man before her.

A man with platinum blonde hair and gray eyes.

Time seemed to pause as she processed who was standing in front of her, in her dressing room. For once there wasn't a tune stuck in her head, or a recipe for a poorly translated potion she was trying to perfect. Now, it was only Draco. His hair was still cut short, something he did to ensure no one mistook him for his father, and there appeared to be a worry line starting to deepen into his forehead, but that was the only thing she could pinpoint that was different about him. Distantly she wondered if this was a trick of her mind. She refused to move, lest it only be a mirage that would disappear once she did.

"Hermione."

It was the sound of her name on his lips that broke her reverie and she remembered who she was. She hated herself for letting him have such a power over her still. Hermione pulled her wand from her dress sleeve and fired every offensive, non-lethal spell with every word she screamed. "HOW. DARE. YOU. YOU. BLOODY. PILLOCK." She paused when she saw him huddled against the door with the tell tale shiny blue shield of a protego charm. She could see one lapel of his jacket was singed with her first hex, and it was mildly satisfying to see him look less than perfect.

However, the sight of seeing him in the same position Ron had been in when he decided to rejoin she and Harry on the Horcrux hunt had her blood boiling so hot, she thought she would evaporate on the spot from it. Hermione cast muffliato on the door before continuing. "ALMOST. FIVE. YEARS. NO OWL. NO LETTER. NOT A SINGLE - BLOODY - APPEARANCE!" Hermione stopped to catch her breath and stared at him, wondering if she should try hitting him with something much more physical like a shoe. Hermione looked around and spotted a hard cover bible. She used her wand to throw it at him, but she was not surprised when it did nothing to his shield. "Stop it! Stop right now! You don't get to look at me like you're the one who had been tortured! Especially not behind the safety of a shield." The sorrow in his eyes only deepened and she thought about hurling the chair behind her at him. "Stop it!" She dramatically thought that his aunt's crucio hurt less.

Hermione felt small knowing he had this much of a hold on her emotions still. Any relationship they had hardly mattered now. He made it clear that he doesn't care, so why is he here? Why am I relieved he is?

"Hermione." She only responded by hurling the hardcover tome she had been studying earlier at him. "I deserve that – this – all of it, but hear me out. Please, Mon Ange-"

"Don't! Don't you fucking dare, Malfoy!" Hermione looked him in the eye then, and made sure he felt the full weight of her gaze. In the past, he would have made fun of her for not being able to even read a room, but now she knew how to command a room. "What are you even doing here? Do you -" She stopped herself to consider if she was going to say what she wanted to say. To hell with it, he'll leave again anyway. "When I started performing again, I looked for you in every crowd, you know. I would even check the ticket lists to see if anyone in your family reserved a seat and nothing. You didn't send a single owl after the trails, so why now? Is this some sick, Malfoy dramatics you're trying to pull here? My last performance in Britain and you decide to emerge from the woodwork as if it was completely normal?"

"I had to see you off." Hermione scoffed and even he had to wince at his own words. "That's not -"

Not wanting to hear it, Hermione lifted the wooden chair she was sitting on by its back post and used everything she had to smash it into his shield, even letting out a shrill scream in the process. She successfully knocked the seat from the back post and broke off two of the legs, but she was beside herself that it did nothing to his shield. "GET OUT!"

"Not until I apologize!" He yelled back, bracing his shield for a slew of hexes to be thrown at him.

"Fucking out with it then, so I can live my life in peace!" Hermione's chest was heaving at this point. After all this time, I still love him -" Hermione stumbled backwards, her hand behind her to grab the edge of her vanity to steady her.

Draco's face softened, seeing Hermione in such a state. He waited a full minute, seeing if she was done, and when he was sure she was, he spoke: "I thought about you every single day for the past five years. There wasn't a day that had gone by where I didn't think to myself 'How can I show her that I still care? That I still lo -"

"Don't say it." Her voice was deadly and he lifted his hands in front of him in surrender.

"Okay, okay..." He regained his breath and tried to get his heart to slow, but that had always been impossible around her. "I should have owled you. I should have faced you. Instead I wallowed in guilt and decided I needed to show you in other ways I was a good person despite what I had done. I remembered how much you wanted to change the world, but could only do so much with The Order of Merlin. You didn't have the money to create the reforms you wanted to, and when you had announced to The Prophet you were going to spend your days performing, I knew it wasn't just because of your love for the stage, but because you needed funding for what you truly wanted. I decided to help with that."

"Oh? And you couldn't have done any of that after you spoke to me?"

Draco's shoulders slumped, knowing she had a very valid point. "I admit I'm an idiot, but above that I'm a spineless bastard. I told myself you deserved better and I didn't want to approach you a moment before then." He balled his hands into fists and looked up at her with pleading eyes. It would break him if she turned him away, but he deserved it. If he was being honest, this was why he had waited so long to see her. It was one thing to control your own heart break, but to give that power to someone else…

Draco watched her blink at him several times. She was pondering if she should force him to leave, but then she decided that maybe it would be best if she got the answers she had sought since his estrangement. "You created the Green Finch and Linnet Fundraiser." While she tried to spend her waking hours pretending that Draco never existed, she couldn't exactly tune him or the leaps and bounds he was making out completely.

"I did. I named it after the first song you ever sang for me." The corner of his lips twitched, wanting to turn upwards and into a smile at the memory. He practically had to beg her that day too to hear her since. "I needed to know how involved the Wizarding community would be. Turns out when you have pockets as deep as Gringott's it still takes a bit of time to make change. All proceeds go to the first shelter I created for endangered Jobberknolls. I then used what political weight father hadn't destroyed to pass legislation on equal rights for Muggleborns, for centaurs to have their own land, for mermaids to own their reserves, and for house elves to be paid -"

"Anything I ever spoke on, you were there." Hermione put her full weight against the vanity, recounting speeches she had made over the years. There always seemed to be an anonymous donor or Malfoy Enterprises would suddenly make a statement in support after what she had attempted to push forward. He was right about how much power money had, but without receiving any correspondence from him, she simply assumed that the pattern she picked up on was solely to rebuild his family's image.

"And I would like to be there for you again." Hermione placed a hand over her throat at his words. She watched in silent awe as Draco found enough courage to let down his shield and walk over to her. He took her hand in his, his eyes never wavering as he stared into hers. Draco's heart was beating so erratically, he thought he would keel over right then and there. "Please. It was a mistake and I'll die regretting it."

Hermione took her hand back from him as she searched his eyes. They were so close that she could see the flecks of black in the irises of his grey eyes. Could she really turn away everything she ever wanted when it was finally within her grasp?

A tear fell down his cheek, mistaking her pulling away from him as her not wanting anything to do with him. "I'll go."

Hermione nodded before she lifted her chin and push her shoulders back. "Then go. Pack your things while you're at it. We leave in the morning for Scotland and if you think that I'm going to chase you again for this to work -"

Draco cut her off with a kiss; a kiss that curled her toes and washed away all apprehension she had about letting him back into her life.

Five years later...

"I'm going to be sick."

"I can assure you, everything will be fine." Draco took Hermione's hand and attempted to run a thumb over her knuckles. It was a bit difficult to do with the large Malfoy heirloom she wore on her ring finger. Hermione jokingly complained that the emerald encrusted engagement ring added at least half a stone to her hand, but Draco insisted she wear something that could be seen from anywhere she stood on stage. Their wedding band was much less noticeable from afar, but that was only because by the time they married three years ago, Hermione had taken a hiatus from performing to put focus on getting her own play on stage.

And Tonight was the premier of said play.

"I am, I know I am - Oh! I need to -"

"You need to relax." Draco wrapped his arm around her waist and kissed her temple. She stayed tense in his hold for a moment before she allowed herself to melt into him. She was aware she tended to overthink, but Draco had a knack for anchoring her, making sure her thoughts didn't force her into a frenzy.

They heard the shuffling of the audience behind them, finally getting into their seats for the premier to start. Hermione looked to her left and saw a row of reporters and critics sitting together, already too friendly with each other for her comfort. "Are you sure I shouldn't go backstage and check on everyone?"

Draco leaned in close to her ear, almost growling his response. "If you get up from your seat to try and make the actors more anxious than they already are, I promise I am going to take you into a dressing room so I can ravish you until the entire show is over."

Hermione shivered as her breath tickled the small curls around her neck and almost seemed to sink lower into her seat. "You're always trying to distract me, you know."

He shrugged as he passed her the Program that had two witches on it: One dressed in black while the one dressed in white as she whispered into her ear. In a large, neat font, the word Wicked was at the bottom of the booklet. "Your actors thank me, I assure you."

She smacked his leg with the booklet, but opened it for what was probably the sixth time that night. Draco knew she was silently looking for any typos and he took the quiet time to look around the West End theatre. It wasn't as grand as the Royal Opera House, but it was still a stellar venue to start out in. Her friendship with Andrew helped ensure that along with Draco's ever growing reputation of being an upstanding business man in both the wizarding, and now the Muggle world.

As soon as the lights dimmed, he could practically hear her tense as her Program flipped closed in her hands. He grabbed her hand once more and kissed the back of her fingers. "The music of the pulse, the singing in your veins, in that moment I knew that you were meant for me." The words were whispered into the hand she held, but the rewritten words of Beneath a Moonlit Sky that they used as their wedding vows still brought a smile to her lips.

Hermione used both of her hands to pull his to her lips for a chaste kiss. They never said a simple 'I love you' to each other anymore. They felt that they had been too much for that and often opted to quote their wedding vows to each other. Sometimes, when Hermione was at a loss for words over the man she loved who had managed to win her affections twice in this lifetime, she would settle for two words: "Thank you."

Draco smiled, his eyes filled with adoration. "Anytime, Mon Ange."