A/N: Eh, I guess I should get the POV of my favorite character in this as well. Thanks for the idea, w&m_law. : ) Oh, I also added a surprise setting, guess where everyone is at….
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I love him. So deeply, so greatly. I woke up this morning, a soft caress on my cheek. He was holding a deep red rose bud, gently tracing it over my face. He said he wanted to give the rose a taste of what true beauty felt like. Then he leaned over and kissed me, so passionately. He's always kissing me, touching me, even if its nothing more than simply taking my hand in his. He said it's because he has to constantly remind himself that I'm real, not just a figment of his imagination. The man has a way with words, I can tell you that.
I, myself, sometimes don't believe this is real. I've never loved someone and had their love in return, not until him. It was a total shock, waking up one morning with the realization that I loved him. Him, of all people. I'm not too sure when I became conscious that those heated stares across the Great Hall at Hogwarts weren't filled with hatred; not the ones he gave me. I couldn't help but notice how those pale silver eyes would fill up with such emotion, such longing, that I'd catch myself turning around, wondering just who or what could inspire such intense passion. And every time I would turn, there would be nothing behind me.
It's not easy, loving someone like him. We had our fair share of fights, rough waters that we had to cross. He had a hard time believing that I was over Harry. Harry, the boy who I had placed on a pedestal, judging every man by him. Harry was a child's fantasy, a dream, like a pot of gold at the end of a rainbow, he wasn't ever real to me. Harry was the night in shining armor that would charge up on his great steed and rescue me from the clutches of the evil dark prince. Now I don't want to be rescued. I'm quite happy in those clutches. The world may never see what I see in Draco, I can deal with that. It's their loss. I may be the only one that sees how his eyes twinkle as he tries not to laugh at Fred and George's jokes, how much he idolizes my father. Only I know that he's addicted to chocolate frogs and potato crisps, that he talks softly in his sleep, that he loves to read Shakespeare during long winter nights by the fire.
Oh, I'm not so naïve as to believe that he's not done his fair share of bad things. He's told me, confessed all his sins to me. He said I had that effect on him, making him regret everything he's ever done. He wept as he poured his heart and soul out, telling me that he wanted to make sure I knew exactly what I was getting into, what it meant to love someone like him. It was my first and last chance to leave him; he wouldn't give me another.
I don't think he's ever been loved before, his parents certainly give that impression. His father is the epitome of pure evil; I found that out in my first year at Hogwarts. He doesn't love his son, only the power that such a son would give him. His mother, that sad, pitiful, creature might have some affection for her own flesh and blood, but she's too scared of her husband to show it. It's ok. I knew the rules of the game when I entered it, knew that challenges I'd have to face. I'm ready to face them. I can give him what he needs; I can be anything, savoring the role of his mother, his lover, and now…
I look out among the faces of my friends and family. I see my parents, my mother crying, my father's arm around her, murmuring words of comfort in her hair. I see my flock of brothers: Bill and Charlie messing around with Percy, distracting him from the twins, who are trying to slip a Canary Cream in his plate. I see Ron and Hermione, sitting together, Ron trying to look happy as he watches us. I know it was hard for Ron, especially, having to deal with him. I love him for the effort he's making. I'm not asking that they become the best of friends, only that they at least try to be civil to one another. Draco's trying hard as well, I know he is. Maybe one day they'll let bygones be bygones, bury the past. I'll wait patiently for that day, forever if I have to.
I see a dark haired figure in the back, emerald eyes glaring. I don't understand the emotion behind that look, can't fathom what could cause such a fierce gaze. I know they were deadly enemies, I'm sorry for that. I can't change the past, I can only look towards the future. Our future, mine and Draco's.
"Are you ready to leave yet?" he whispers huskily in my ear. I look up to see him smiling, his eyes brimming with love, his light blond hair cascading over his forehead.
"Yes," I whisper back, just as softly. "I'm ready." And I am.