Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Hermione stood facing the large portrait window, watching the snow flakes drift down from the sky.
It was Christmas Eve and she was in New York City.
Her eyes bounced from one, flashing neon sign to the other, and she smiled to herself despite the dreary weather. The view from this window, on the 36th floor, was breath taking; one that she wouldn't soon forget. The energy in this city was like nothing she had ever experienced. It was the city that never slept.
One building billboard flashed pink then white, and it made the sparkle on her ring wink adoringly up at her, through the window's reflection. Her observations paused in their quick perusal of the outside and focused on her reflection, inside.
Her eyes travelled the lines of her hair, her face, and her attire. She wore a bold red holiday dress that was both conservative and provocative. It hugged her curves, and draped elegantly low, displaying her fair-skinned back and shoulders. She had paid handsomely for the floor-length Carolina Herrera gown, that boasted a subtle, but sexy slit that went up to just above her knees. It was worth every Galleon.
Her hair was pinned loosely in a chignon, leaving curled strands of light auburn to dance and bounce with her every movement, atop her shoulders. Her makeup was flawless in its application, though she hadn't put much on, some eye makeup and some neutral lip cover that had just a touch of shine to it. Everything about her looked polished and refined and… calm.
Sighing, she brought her hand to her lips and watched the beautiful stone on her finger glint. The ring wasn't huge, but it was … considerable. Her mind attached that word 'considerable' to rationalize the karat weight. She stretched her lips in slight mockery, at the thought. Hermione was not ashamed of her ring or her current lifestyle; she loved it, in fact, but old Hermione would have thumbed her nose at such extravagance and she would have judged herself harshly for the warm feeling this present Hermione felt when she thought of how her life came to be.
Before her mind faded from the modern day setting of the holiday party, to the day she'd been reintroduced to her new husband, she turned slowly to check her surroundings. The party was in full swing, and though she both saw and heard the laughter and cheer of her friends and family, it was subdued. She had cast a Muffliato earlier; she didn't appreciate a loud party like she could in her youth, before ...everything.
Her eyes caught the hard gaze of her husband, Lucius. They had waited years before actually getting married. It was a small ceremony this Christmas Eve morning, with only close friends and family. She smiled. It was only a few hours ago that she became Hermione Granger-Malfoy. They'd had quite a discussion about her taking his name. At 35 years old, she had a vested interest in keeping her name somewhere in the mix, and so after a surprising ultimatum on her part, and a surprising agreement on his part, they decided upon hyphenation.
Her eyes focused back on his, and without saying a word, he asked if she was all right. She tilted her head and smiled at him.
All these years, and he still took her breath away, with one knowing expression.
He was smiling at something someone said, but it didn't fully reach his eyes – he didn't like large crowds of people either. He'd had his own demons to deal with, especially since the end of the war. Although, it had ended some 17 years ago, it still had its residual effects on everyone who was caught up in it.
Turning back to the window, Hermione hugged herself in a comforting manner as her mind was already finding its way back to her youthful self.
OoO
Hermione took a deep, fortifying breath before she stepped outside. "You can do this," she whispered.
Opening her door, she walked through, repeating her positive mantra in her brain.
In the corridor.
Alright.
In the elevator.
It's a short ride.
Surprising herself, she walked confidently out into the snowy weather. Breathing deeply, she tilted her face into the cold air, feeling the wet drops of snowflakes fall on her skin. It was her favorite time of year. The weather and the cold made her feel good inside; she no longer felt trapped.
Walking on, she sidestepped other Christmas shoppers, trying not to mind the way people seemed to be ignorant to their surroundings.
Just as her irritation peaked, some unnamed person bumped right into her shoulder as he walked by, with barely a mumble of apology. He'd nearly knocked her into the street.
She pulled herself together and continued down the sidewalk, trying not to pay attention to the oncoming crowd.
She started to feel like she was wading through water, and that soon, she would drown.
Slowly, she looked down at her fingers and wiggled them; they were tingling, and she was having trouble breathing.
Tightly squeezing her eyes shut, she tried to focus, but couldn't. Knowing what was happening, but unable to stop it, she stumbled towards a doorway that dipped inward. She just needed to be still and regain control to get through this.
Just one more second.
With a feeling that she was going to pass out and a hopeless thought that no one would find her, her chest constricted. Her mind flashed visions of her frozen body among a sea of strangers. She just knew that everyone she loved would feel a sense of relief with her absence. Her eyes were beginning to burn at the thought that she didn't matter to anyone.
She had made it to the doorway and couldn't continue standing up right. She felt herself slide down the wall and plop on the dirty sidewalk then nothing.
OoO
"Granger?" Strong, but gentle hands shook her small shoulders to wake her.
Her face scrunched and she turned into the soft blanket, burrowing further into squishy couch.
He chuckled and looked at his father in humor.
Reaching down with one long finger, he tapped on her forehead. "Hello, Granger. Wakey wakey."
With closed eyes and no movement, her small voice held a bit of an edge to it when she replied. "Tap my forehead one more time, Weasley, and you will lose it."
His father snorted, which was unlike the refined elder wizard, and Draco held in child-like giggles when his father tilted his chin up for Draco to once more tap her forehead. She clearly did not know where she was.
"Are you trying to get me killed?" he whispered to his father, who was the very definition of mischievous at the moment.
Hermione just knew that they were not going to let her sleep, so she popped one eye open and grabbed for her wand.
She, of course, stopped mid wand-aim and snapped shut her mouth with a click of her teeth. She was eyeballing Draco, not Weasley, as he smiled at her waving his fingers in a hello.
As the silence drew longer, Lucius got irritated at them both and handed their guest the glass of water he had obtained for her.
Hermione took it slowly, looking at the glass and the host like they were completely alien to earth.
Draco cleared his throat and spoke, the humor gone from his person. "You had a panic attack in Muggle London. We didn't want to leave you there…"
Hermione squinted her eyes and took a sip of water, surprised that it was actually water and not some type of spirit. Her friends tended to offer her liquor to 'relax' instead of letting her recover slowly.
"Thank you," she said then, "you were in Muggle London?"
Draco sat down and leaned forward. "Out of all that information, your question is about our presence in Muggle London?" He wore a rather charming smile, but Hermione's eyes kept shifting to Lucius Malfoy, who she could see behind Draco.
"Are you feeling better, Miss Granger?" Lucius asked, stepping forward out of the shadows. The light seemed to frame his entire being, and Hermione's heart skipped a beat.
Draco huffed, stood and pulled a business card out of his pocket. "Here Granger. I… I had some trouble adjusting too. She helped me get through the tough times." As Draco held the card out to her, she noticed that his hand shook, just a little bit, but it was there and her heart broke for him – for both of them.
Setting the glass down, she took the card and snorted in humor when she read it.
It made both Draco and Lucius scowl.
She realized that her reaction made her look terribly ungrateful. "Oh! No –wait." She turned, spotted her purse on the ground by the couch, and pulled an identical card from her wallet. "See?" They were both seeing the same Mediwitch therapist.
OoO
Two Christmases later, Lucius and Hermione passed through the same doorway together at a Ministry hosted gala, and got stuck under a Weasely-charmed mistletoe.
Neither Hermione nor Lucius would be released with a simple peck on the lips.
Everyone knew that they were perfect for each other, except the two of them.
Draco stood by, arms crossed, wearing one of his idiotic smirks. "Draco, if you had something to do with this-" Hermione let the threat hang in the air, and his father's murderous expression backed up every action that Hermione didn't vocalize.
Swallowing down his fear, Draco inhaled, and donned his arrogant Malfoy attitude like an old, comfy sweater. "You both can get over yourselves and admit your feelings, or you can stand there all year. It matters not to me," he quipped and strolled away, taking a cocktail from a floating tray as he turned the corner.
Hermione turned a glaring and accusing eye to Lucius. Her nostrils momentarily flared as she inhaled his delightfully masculine scent, but she willed her traitorous nose back into position. "Fix this, Lucius!" she hissed, pointing a stiff finger at his departing son.
Lucius took a deep, resigned breath and closed his eyes for a moment. The expression he put upon her in the next second made her stomach flutter. "Lucius?"
"I love you, Hermione. You have changed my life and I cannot imagine a day, an hour, a second without you in it." He swallowed, and pressed on in the face of her opened-mouth shock. In for a penny, in for a pound, he thought. Though, he wanted to laugh out right, when his ladylove's eyes opened wider as he knelt, taking her hand. "If you will have me, I would be honored if you would be my wife… when you are ready," he added.
OoO
"Mrs. Malfoy?"
Hermione smiled, though her eyes were closed, she knew the warm hands on her bare shoulders and the deep and loving voice were her husbands. "Lucius," she whispered, tilting her lips to meet his.
She stood, as he took her hand, and led her back to their family. The archway was the only thing separating the newlyweds from the smiling faces of their loved ones, but Hermione once again found herself unable to move, standing next to the man she loved, but who was deceivingly impish. "Lucius!"
He smirked a classic Malfoy smirk and slowly pointed to the center of the archway. Hanging, was a charmed piece of mistletoe.
One smoldering kiss and a champagne'd solute to their health and happiness later, Hermione breathed in a sense of peace at her life now and wished for everyone to find happiness like she had.