A/N: Please forgive any errors as this has only been lightly edited. Chapter takes place September 12th - 19th, 2009.
A/N: Oh! And, after 69 chapters of Draco's POV, this is a special chapter that needed to be from Hermione's perspective. It's a bit of an adjustment but I hope you enjoy it.
TW: References to Past Physical Abuse
CW: Implied Sexual Scene
It was the Saturday before Hermione's birthday. She curled up in Harry's chair while he was out with the kids. Ginny lazily spun a Quaffle on one finger. Hermione admitted she was afraid Draco hadn't proposed because of her potential infertility. Ginny rolled her eyes and said,
"Harry and I tried for a year before I became pregnant with James. We were incredibly careful afterward, but one drunken mistake and BAM! Nine months later I had Al. Just because you couldn't conceive with my idiot brother … It doesn't mean anything. Even if it did, I don't think it would matter to Malfoy since he's completely fuckstruck over you."
It was the Sunday before Hermione's birthday. She had lunch with Gabriel Truman and wondered whether it would always be this way. On rough nights, she would wake up to find Draco asleep in his study, fingers still wrapped around an empty glass. When he spoke about his thoughts in those moments it was always the same words. He felt empty, like half a man. He felt unlovable. Gabriel said,
"The thoughts never truly go away. Don't get me wrong, they can be few and far between. Romi still has those moments and it never gets easier to watch. She goes blank and questions everything. She believes her life is better than she deserves and I never know what to do. Most times I just hold her until it's over."
"It always happens to Draco at night. I don't think Astoria will ever leave his head."
"You have his heart, though. Men like Draco, their heart always wins out."
It was the Monday before Hermione's birthday. After therapy, she knocked on Lucius Malfoy's study and he nodded for her to come in. She took the seat across from him, feeling out of place as she always did in his presence. He raised a single eyebrow and waited for her question.
"Are you the reason Draco has not asked me to marry him?"
"Absolutely not."
"Then why hasn't he asked me?"
"Ms. Granger, in the twenty-nine years I have known my son I have never been able to understand what happens inside his head. If you wish for an accurate answer, you should speak with his mother."
"I came to you."
"An interesting choice."
"I mean … Is there something wrong with me?"
"You are in love with my son, Ms. Granger. Obviously there is something wrong with you."
It was the Tuesday before Hermione's birthday. Draco was out all day, so Hermione asked Cassis if she knew where Draco had hidden the engagement ring. Cassis shook her head and insisted they were not permitted to say. Out of desperation, Hermione tried,
"Accio Ring!"
Nothing.
Hermione tore their bedroom apart. She looked under the bed, beneath the mattress, in the nightstands, and even under the sink in Draco's bathroom. She checked each pocket of every robe in Draco's closet. Hermione raided his sock drawer and even looked through his jumpers.
Nothing.
It was the Wednesday before Hermione's birthday. She went out for ice cream with Blaise. They sat and talked about nothing for awhile. Then they spoke about Dean and his role at Hermione's school in the spring term.
"Ginny told me you are anxious because Draco has not proposed."
She laughed and replied, "I can hardly trust anyone to keep that secret, can I?"
"As someone who dated Draco, he is a firm believer in crafting memories. When he feels like rubbish, he will pull out a photo album and reminisce because those memories remind him of the times he was loved and cared for. My best guess, Hermione, is that he wants to give you a proposal worth remembering. A moment so when you feel the darkness creeping in, you can cling to it. Dean and I, we are not like that. We finished having sex then I pulled a ring out of the bedside table and asked him to marry me. He said yes and we each fell asleep wearing engagement bands. It was natural and perfect; it was us. Tell me, do you honestly believe Draco would do anything short of spectacular for you?"
Hermione blushed and admitted, "Of course not."
"When it happens, you will understand why he waited."
"Do you know if he's planning anything?"
"No," Blaise admitted, "but he would not tell me if he was."
It was the Thursday before Hermione's birthday. Draco was a mess after he left Penelope's office. When Hermione asked what was wrong, he simply said,
"Nothing. Nothing is wrong, I only needed Penelope to reassure me that I am ready for whatever comes my way in the near future."
"Oh." Hermione frowned. "Are you ready?"
"Yes."
"Good, then."
It was the Friday before Hermione's birthday. Theo greeted her with a hug. Hermione clung to him, hoping that maybe, just maybe he knew something no one else seemed to know.
He didn't.
"Blaise is right. Draco cares about creating the sort of memories you can hold onto. He would want to make a proposal so memorable, so bloody amazing that you would use it to cast a Patronus Charm. Blaise is also correct that he wouldn't tell anyone; not if he wished to surprise you."
"He is so open with me about everything except this."
"You know, there were many months when most of our family wouldn't speak to me. Pansy, Bastien, Blaise, and even Tracey was skeptical at the beginning. They all believed I was taking your side, supporting you over Draco. Supporting you over my brother. But Draco saw what I was doing and he appreciated it. He knew it was the proper thing to do and I would do it again. I care for you because Draco cares for you, which makes you part of our family. You deserve all the love he has to give, and all it requires is your patience. When he takes a knee for you, Hermione, it will fly in the face of everything his parents, grandparents, great-grandparents and ten generations before that stood for. Draco will live up to that moment, I promise."
"I know you're right." Hermione closed her eyes and admitted, "I want to be his wife. I did marriage so wrong the first time that I know in my soul how right this is."
"Draco knows it, too. Trust him to do it right."
September 19th, 2009. Hermione smiled softly as she woke up to the familiar feeling of Draco's arm wrapped around her waist.
"Happy birthday, Golden Girl," he whispered.
Hermione felt Draco's dick hard against her bum. She said,
"There is one birthday present you could give me right now."
Draco slid beneath the covers with a sleepy smile and positioned himself between Hermione's parted thighs. She pulled up her slip, gently tugged Draco forward, and nestled back into the pillows.
.oOo.
Draco, Theo, and Tracey were all at work on Saturday. It occurred to Hermione that had never happened before. Someone was always available to watch the twins. Not that Hermione would complain; there were few people she would enjoy spending time with more than she liked being with Scarlett and Sebastien.
Scarlett divulged Draco's plans at lunch.
"Uncle Draco says we're going to a surprise party!"
"Scarlett!" Sebastien groaned. "Mum and dad are going to be so mad you told!"
"Why?"
"Because it's Hermione's birthday!"
"Oh." Scarlett frowned and her face turned an embarrassed shade of red. "He didn't tell me that."
Hermione pressed a finger to her lips and insisted, "It will be our secret. I can act surprised, but only if you tell me one thing."
Scarlett's eyes went wide.
"What's that?"
"What flavour of cake are we having?"
.oOo.
Hermione returned to Malfoy Manor at five-thirty and was met at the door by … Dean Thomas? In a suit? She asked,
"What are you doing here?"
"Helping you prepare for your surprise party."
Hermione laughed and said, "It's not much of a surprise, is it?"
"I know the twins well enough to say Scarlett probably already told you."
"She did."
"Fantastic. You can practice your 'surprised' face while I help you pick out an outfit Draco will love."
"I think I know what he likes by now."
"Well …" Dean hummed as he took the stairs two at a time. "There is a bit more to this surprise than you've been told. Besides, if he had it his way you'd show up in lingerie."
Hermione laughed.
"I suppose you're right. Scarlett told me Blaise made that double chocolate cake, so nothing too form-fitting. It is my birthday therefore I feel entitled to at least three pieces."
Dean laughed and said, "You will want to look nice, I promise."
"What are we doing?"
Dean paused for several seconds before settling on, "Dancing."
"Dancing."
"Yes."
"Right, okay." Hermione walked into her closet with Dean close behind. "There is a dress he has yet to see me wear." She wondered, "Are we going to the ballet again? I know Scarlett would love that. We promised to take her and Naevia in the winter."
"Not the ballet."
"Well, here it is."
Hermione pulled an amber yellow dress from a rack toward the back of her closet. It had cap sleeves and fell to her ankles, with a long tie in the back. The waist bowed downward, following her curves for a sleek and flattering silhouette. It was a different sort of sexy; this was a transitional birthday, after all. At thirty, perhaps sexy meant something different.
"You always look powerful, Hermione, but I think you will look like who you want to be in this dress."
"I think you're right. Though, if we are dancing I'll need heels, otherwise my face is about level with his chest."
Dean chuckled.
"If you want to discuss height difference, having dated Seamus I consider myself an expert in that field. Heels are a good idea."
"Speaking of your boyfriends, did Blaise really propose to you after sex?"
"Yes. Blaise always falls asleep quickly afterward, so he pulled back to ask me to marry him. Then he Summoned the ring box from somewhere, offered it to me, I said yes, then he fell asleep on my shoulder. It was ridiculous and the perfect example of who we are."
"I wish Draco was so forthcoming. He keeps promising, 'I will ask when I am ready.' Then, 'I will ask when you least expect it.' There is no reasoning with him on this." Hermione shrugged. "When does my party begin? Are we in a hurry?"
"Take your time. It is your party, after all."
He left and Hermione went to work on her makeup.
It wasn't a proposal. She had hoped Draco was planning something intimate that involved a ring and those three all-too-important words. Not that a party and dancing wouldn't be nice; it was reminiscent of her celebration two years earlier. However, her life was about moving forward and jumping two years into the past seemed counterintuitive.
Draco had to be the one to ask. Padma proposed to Bastien, and Hermione wouldn't have been ashamed to do it herself had their circumstances been different. Hermione hurt Draco physically and emotionally. Only Draco would know when he was ready and it was Hermione's responsibility to wait, no matter how agonizing it seemed as every bloody day dragged on.
She left her hair down. There was little use in trying to tame her curls, so she left them a bit wild. Draco seemed to like it, saying it was her "most Hermione look." That was just like him, though. Every time he said Hermione was what he wanted, she believed him. Once she was in the dress, Hermione stepped into a pair of sparkling gold heels. She surveyed herself in the mirror and thought,
This looks like me.
If it wasn't the ballet, what sort of excursion would require both the twins and a nice dress? Then again, Draco would take any excuse to dress up. Hell, he'd dress up to go from the loo to the kitchen then back to bed. Hermione walked out and Dean said,
"Draco's closet has a chandelier! His closet is the size of your bedroom."
"Mine is not so spacious. Draco cares far more about his clothes than I do."
"I'd guess Draco cares far more about his clothes than most people." Dean looked at Hermione and smiled. "You look fantastic."
She spun in a small circle and held up her hands.
"What do you think?"
"Nearly two years ago, now, when you did what you did to Draco—"
"I hit him," interjected Hermione. "You can say it. In fact, you should say it because I don't want to push it aside, I have to own up to it."
"That shit might work for you in therapy, Hermione, but I am not your therapist. I am your friend. As your friend, I will not continuously remind you of the worst mistake you've ever made. When Draco was at his lowest point there was next to nothing that kept him going. He asked whether I believed the two of you would ever be able to get past it, and I was the only one who said yes. I told him that you'd seen the worst in each other and if you took the time apart to work on yourselves as separate people, that one day you would see the best. The woman standing in front of me right now? You are the best."
Hermione smiled and said, "You really believe that?"
"You know me; I don't lie."
"Tell me why I need to be all dressed up, then."
Dean grinned and said, "I don't think I will."
Hermione stuffed her wand, a Bezoar, a few hair bands, and breath mints into her clutch.
"Why isn't Draco here to escort me himself?"
Dean stood up and held out his hand.
"Because I am not taking you to the party."
"No?"
"No. There is a stop we need to make first."
"A fun stop?"
"I think that depends on you."
Hermione frowned and took Dean's proffered hand. Before she could respond, Hermione was squeezed Sidealong through a space about the size of a toothpaste tube. She was spat out next to Dean in a dimly-lit place. She squinted, trying to figure out where they were.
"Oh!" she shouted. "This is the club where we had my party two years ago."
"Yes, it is."
Draco seemed to appear out of the darkness. He was so beautiful that all the air seemed to disappear from Hermione's lungs. He wore a black velvet evening jacket and had done his hair so it was half-up in rosette braids across the back of his head. The nightclub was deserted save for the three of them. Draco hugged Dean and said,
"Thank you for doing this."
"We have been through so much together, and you have done more for Blaise than you could ever know. You deserve this."
"Is everything ready?"
"Everything is exactly as you asked."
"Fantastic, now get the hell out so I can spend some time with my girlfriend."
Dean winked then Disapparated. Draco turned to Hermione and pulled her into a deep kiss. Her eyes fluttered closed as Draco rested his hands on her hips. When he finally pulled back, Hermione leaned forward and tried to follow. She opened her eyes then laughed when she saw her lipstick had transferred onto his lips. Hermione licked the pad of her thumb and wiped it away.
"Happy birthday."
"It is good to see you, too."
"Scarlett spoiled the surprise, didn't she?"
"Only a bit. Dean said we were going dancing, but I did not realize we were meant to be dancing here."
"Well." Draco took Hermione's clutch and placed it on the bar. "This club has a very special place in my heart. If you recall, we had our first real dance right here."
"I remember."
Draco held Hermione's hand and led her down to the dancefloor.
"Last time we had quite the audience. If you would do me the honour, I'd like to make a new memory here, for no one but the two of us."
"I'd like that very much."
Isn't that exactly what Blaise and Theo said? This would be another memory for Draco to hold onto. One Hermione would love to share with him. She asked,
"Are we meant to dance without music?"
"Well." Draco smiled a cheeky grin and said, "It turns out I know a pianist in need of a gig."
At that moment, the stage curtain parted to reveal Peter sitting at a white piano. He waved and shouted,
"I know! I do actually have a job!"
Hermione laughed.
"Where is Naevia?"
"She's with the twins at the party you're not meant to know about."
"I am still working on my surprised face."
Peter grinned and said, "You've got some time. Pretend I am not even here."
"Now that," Draco added, "I can do."
He pulled Hermione close, holding her right hand with his left and his free hand rested on her waist. Hermione let Draco lead as they made their way around the dancefloor, to the gentle sounds of the piano. Peter wasn't playing anything Hermione knew, but it was soft. A light, airy melody that would have been at home in a fairytale. The perfect soundtrack for being with Draco like this. It wasn't a proposal, but as far as birthday moments went, it was pretty great. Hermione spent the whole while staring up at Draco, wondering how the hell she could ever deserve this.
"I love this dress on you."
"I thought you would."
"Is it new?"
"No …" Hermione was quiet as Draco spun them through a corner. "It never felt sexy enough for me, is all."
"No?" asked Draco. "It is incredible."
"Perhaps I am beginning to realize sexy means something different to me now. Or, it means something new to you."
"I remember the first time I saw you naked. I will never forget it." Draco chuckled and shook his head. "I have slept with enough people to understand the benefits of dim lighting and a quick start. You are exactly the opposite, starkers and still incredibly powerful. No wand required. You know how fond I am of your tits, but seeing you in front of me, without any qualm, you looked like Hermione to me. Sexy has never been about your clothes, no matter how low-cut your tops or how short your dresses. It is about how you feel in front of me, and the power you choose to give me in those moments."
She felt her cheeks go warm.
"It has never been like that with anyone else."
"Good."
"I missed you today. Do you remember when we were first dating, how I couldn't give you my Saturdays?"
Draco confirmed, "I remember."
"Now you have every morning, every evening, and as much time as I can give you between them."
"I like when you use the word 'between.'"
"Why is that?"
"It is my favourite place to be. Between you and the mattress. Between your thighs. Be—"
"Understood, understood." Hermione swayed side-to-side, lost in the moment. "How many guests will be at my party?"
"Quite a few. All of my family, all of your family—"
"You convinced Ron to come?"
"I did."
"How did you manage that?"
"I didn't. Ginny Potter threatened to bludgeon him with a Beater's bat if he declined the invitation. She is quite persuasive."
"Yes." Hermione smiled. "That sounds like Ginny."
"Besides, Blaise's cake is legendary. James Mountcastle will be there, Gabrielle will be there making heart eyes at Peter."
"Oi!" Peter shouted. "Did I hear my name?!"
"No!" Draco lied. "And I am not paying you to eavesdrop!"
Peter jokingly rolled his eyes then continued to play.
"Even my parents decided to make an appearance. Though, I think my mother sees it as an excuse to spend more time with your dad."
"Probably. I don't know what they discuss when they are together. I imagine their conversations go something like, 'Why are our children such disappointments?' Then, 'It is no wonder they found each other, is it?'"
Draco laughed and replied, "More like, 'When do you believe we will finally have a grandchild?'"
Hermione kept the emotions off her face, though her heart sank at the truth of those words. A child would come after a marriage, and a marriage was the product of a proposal. Which, of course, would have to wait for another day. Draco's voice pulled her back to reality.
"You are thinking too much."
"Sorry, I was thinking about thirty."
"It is a nice, round number."
Hermione admitted, "I never believed it would feel different, but it does."
Draco stopped moving and placed both hands on Hermione's waist.
"Tell me what you are thinking."
"All of my twenties felt like the point after the war. Surviving. Rebuilding. Figuring out what life is meant to look like. Thirty feels like … like it's over. Thirty feels like freedom, in a way, but I know what I want now and it comes with its own expectations."
"You are thinking about the future."
"Yes."
"Well, I brought you here because there are things about our past that linger in my thoughts."
Hermione's heart dropped into her stomach. What the hell did he mean by "things about our past?" All Hermione could verbalize was,
"Oh."
"May I show you what I mean?"
Hermione nodded. Draco stepped back to get a good look at her, eyeing her slowly from tip to toe.
"You are unbelievable, Hermione Granger. Even as I am standing here, I still don't quite believe this is real."
"This time last year, I never would have believed I could have this again. That I could have you again."
Draco twined his fingers with Hermione's and led her upstairs to a room on the right. He paused outside the far door and Hermione turned to look at the dancefloor.
"The music stopped."
"Peter's job is finished here. The um," he huffed, "God, my hands are sweating."
He wiped his palms on his trousers before continuing. He was nervous about something, but what? Draco was rarely anxious, so unless there was a Witch Weekly reporter behind that door, Hermione had no idea what to expect.
"Your real gift is behind this door. This stupid nightclub has a special place in my heart because two years ago today, in this room, I kissed you for the first time."
Hermione blushed even harder and replied, "I remember."
"My father has not done many things right in his life, but he has loved my mother every day for more than thirty years. Even in Azkaban, my father had hope because of his love for her. I spoke with him a few weeks ago and asked how he managed it, how his love has been true for so long. He told me the secret is to always ensure equal footing. Stability. I give just as much to this relationship as you do, no more or less. That being said, there is an imbalance between us because you have done something for me that I have not had the courage to do for you."
Draco opened the door and Hermione stepped inside. She heard the door shut but was frozen where she stood. The room was mostly as she remembered it. One table in the centre, surrounded by eight chairs, except one had been turned to face outward. A towel was draped over the back and a large basin filled with water was on the ground off to one side. Draco grabbed the towel and unbuttoned his jacket. He said,
"One year ago today, you let me back into your life and asked for my forgiveness in the only way that mattered. Today, on your birthday, I want to do what you did for me in the place where we began this journey together. I want to do this as a promise that everything we do, we will do together."
A dozen emotions hit Hermione at once. She had so much love for this ridiculous, gorgeous man in front of her. How could she possibly be worthy of this? Hermione shook her head and insisted,
"I did this for you because I hurt you. I did it to earn your forgiveness."
Draco insisted, "I want to earn my place in your future. Please, Hermione, will you let me do this for you?"
Hermione nodded. It wasn't a proposal, but somehow it was better. Draco let out a deep breath he'd been holding to say,
"Thank God. I half-thought you would say no."
"I …" Hermione pressed her lips together to keep from crying. "There were moments in my life where I was so scared, truly terrified, those few moments I believed Harry was dead …" She choked up. "God, we were just fighting to end things. We were fighting a war when we didn't know what the aftermath would look like. My twenties have been spent rebuilding this world that never truly wanted me, and I could not figure out what I wanted within it. This, right here, is what I wanted. I didn't know it at nineteen, but eleven years on I understand. If you believe you need to do this, then I will let you."
"Then take a seat, Golden Girl."
Hermione hiked up her dress and bunched it at her knees before taking her place in the chair. Draco shrugged off his evening jacket, placed it on the ground, and Hermione winced.
"That jacket is too expensive for you to put it on the floor!"
Draco laughed.
"That is the point, Hermione. Traditionally, when this is done at a wedding the participants are wearing their nicest clothes. This is entirely about deference and I would pile my entire closet at your feet if you wished."
"If you did that, I may never see you again," teased Hermione.
Draco smiled at her then knelt on his folded jacket. He gently held Hermione's left ankle with one hand and slid her heel off with the other. He placed it off to the left side and said,
"Years ago, I tried not to think about my wedding because it seemed impossible for someone to love me. Even then, there were moments when I thought about how this would feel. Pureblood tradition is all about never kneeling, never lowering yourself, we do not submit. That is a dirty word," he slid Hermione's right shoe off her foot and placed it beside the other, "and this ceremony signifies our choice to forego that teaching in favour of the person we love."
Draco took his time folding each of his shirtsleeves up to the crooks of his elbows. Hermione wanted so desperately to say something, but how could she respond? "I love you," wasn't enough. He had found a way to cover the Dark Mark because it made them both uncomfortable. Hermione stared at the oak tree on his forearm and wondered whether he knew how much that meant to her. She watched as Draco placed her right foot into the basin. The water was perfectly warm, soothing, and Draco pressed his thumbs into the arch of her foot.
"In the rare moments when I pictured myself doing this for someone, I always had an audience. I wanted to use this moment to prove to everyone that somebody loves me. Then, a brilliant woman told me the most important moments in a relationship only require an audience of one."
Hermione nodded. Draco began to work the water between her toes and it felt heavenly. She knew she hadn't done nearly as good a job for him. Draco's love was like that sometimes, hidden in the smallest things.
"Now, I will say it a thousand times throughout the course of my life, there is nothing better than waking up with you in my arms. However, it does come at a cost."
"Does it?"
Draco applied gentle pressure around Hermione's ankle and replied, "It does, because there are several days I wake up with strands of your hair in my mouth."
Hermione tried and failed to choke back a giggle.
"You laugh, but it's true." Draco continued to massage Hermione's foot and insisted, "I love it, though, because it is part of living with you. When we have mornings like this morning …" He trailed off as a sappy grin ghosted across his face. "It is better than anything I have ever experienced."
Draco lifted Hermione's foot out of the water and toweled it off, careful to get between her toes. He gently placed her foot back in its shoe before repeating everything with her left foot. Hermione watched him, completely lovestruck. Speechless. Was this how Draco felt when she performed this ceremony for him a year earlier?
"When you asked for my forgiveness last year," Draco placed her foot in the basin and massaged the arch, "you said you were sorry that you could not be better for me. But you are, Hermione. You made yourself so much better by learning to control yourself not just around me, but around everyone."
He repeated the process of pouring water down Hermione's ankle, over the top of her foot, then working it between her toes.
"When I look at my future, you are exactly the sort of person I want at my side. You know how to handle conflict and are a fierce protector of the people you love." Draco's hands shook a little bit as he tried to work more quickly. "I love holding you when you doubt yourself and I love that you always seem to know when I need your comfort. I hope that when you look at your future, you see me there, too."
Hermione demanded, "Look at me."
Draco obliged, looking ridiculous with a towel in one hand and Hermione's foot in the other. She pressed the pads of her fingers against his cheek and said,
"The reason I love you is that while I gave up on the idea of us, you never did. Even after I convinced myself I could never earn a place in your life, you never lost faith in me. I know throughout the rest of our lives you will never lose faith in me."
"Never," insisted Draco. "In fact, our time apart allowed me to figure out who I am as a person. I am a bit of a bisexual mess and my strength comes from embracing it. I learned to trust what you see in me. I accept myself as I am because what is mine is yours. My home is our home, my goals are our goals, and my future is our future."
Draco dried Hermione's foot and placed it back into her shoe. He placed the towel on the edge of the basin then pushed it aside. He looked up at Hermione and said,
"In life, you work to earn moments. Memories and feelings that I can hold onto are the only things that have kept me going when I was at my lowest points. When I need to remember something worthwhile I think of our first moment together in this room. I think of Sebastien falling asleep on you at the ballet or when you revealed that your Patronus changed its form to reflect me."
His eyes were wide and vulnerable. Hermione wished she could say something that made him feel as cared for, as loved as she felt in that moment. She insisted,
"I promise, everything I have been through was worth it to be with you like this."
"We fought for this relationship, both of us, together and apart; I want to continue to be a team. The truth is that you are my family, and while I am down here," Draco pulled a ring from the pocket of his trousers, "I figure I may as well make you my fiancée."
Hermione's jaw dropped.
"What?"
Draco grinned and admitted, "A wise person once told me that the best way to keep a secret is to make someone believe they know what you are doing when, in truth, they only know by half."
"Oh my God." Hermione shook her head and stared down at Draco repeating, "Oh my God, oh my GOD!"
"Hermione Jean Granger, this is one of the moments in life we have worked for. It took thirty years for you to get here, and I will be at your side for the next thirty, the thirty after that, and even the thirty after that. Will you marry me?"
Hermione nodded and knelt on the ground to be at his level. She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him as hard as she could, trying to express everything she felt. Draco pulled back, laughing, to ask,
"Is this a yes?"
"Yes!" Hermione insisted, breathless. "I didn't even look at the ring!"
Draco held it up and Hermione offered her hand so he could slide it onto her finger. The moment it settled, Hermione knew it was right. One diamond surrounded by a halo of tiny rubies, which was encircled by a larger halo of small diamonds. It was perfect in every way. It sparkled but was not so large it would get in the way of her work. Draco anchored his family and this ring symbolized as much. He would centre her, too.
"I have never told another partner I love them, Hermione, and I never will. You are my everything, and I cannot wait until the day you become my wife."
Hermione kissed him gently on the cheek and said, "I don't know how you could ever top this birthday present."
"I can't stop smiling." Draco glanced down at the floor, embarrassed. "I knew you would say yes, but seeing this ring on your finger, it's real, isn't it?"
"If this is a dream," replied Hermione, "then never wake me up."