Hermione hurried down the long corridor. She was running late for class, for the first time in six and a half years. She stumbled over the long hem of her regulatory robes, muttered "Blast!", hiked the robes up and broke into a run. Her heavy book bag swung at her side, slamming into her leg on every alternate step. She flung herself at a door, trying to get to the staircase that led up to Flitwick's classroom and her Advanced Charms class—and hit the wood with a loud thud.

Tears sprang to her eyes and she backed away, winded. Why wouldn't it open? She was really going to be late now. Rubbing her bruised elbow she sprinted to the next doorway along the hall—that one was locked, too. Frightened and panicky, she ran on and on. The hallway was unending. She was surrounded by locked doors and she couldn't get out.

She sank to her knees in the middle of the cold stone floor and began sobbing in earnest. The corridor was going fuzzy and she didn't think it was just from tears. What was happening to her? Was there some kind of curse placed on Hogwarts?

Just as everything around her turned black, she suddenly felt a hand underneath her chin, gently tipping her head up. She looked up into a pair of icy gray eyes, and despite the frigidity she saw there, her fear left her as the hallway disappeared.

"Mya! Mya, wake up."

Hermione's eyes flew open as she gave a great shudder, and tears continued to pour from her eyes. She wasn't at Hogwarts—she hadn't been there for years. It took her a minute to place herself, as she looked frantically around the room.

"Draco," she choked, recognizing the face of the man who was cradling her in his arms. "Draco, I can't—"

"Shh," he soothed, placing a gentle kiss on her forehead, "you were just dreaming. Everything's going to be all right."

He held her until her sobs quieted and she clung tighter to him.

"I'm sorry," Hermione managed, giving him a watery smile. The dream was already dissipating. "It was just a dream. I can't believe I got so worked up about it."

"It's fine," he shrugged, or attempted to shrug, as best as he could while lying down. "Dreams are funny things. Hey—" he craned his neck to see the clock "—what time do you have to be there?"

"Eleven thirty." Hermione stretched her arms above her head and yawned widely.

"Well, it's ten now, so—"

"Blast!" Hermione jumped out of bed as if she'd been catapulted. "I have to take a shower and—"

"Blast?" Draco repeated, looking amused. "I haven't heard you say that in years. Thought I'd corrupted you enough."

Hermione paused, deep in thought. "Huh. Funny." And she was off to the bathroom, her dream completely gone.

- - -

At precisely eleven twenty-nine, Hermione was making her self-assured way down the hallway of St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. She wasn't at all nervous for this interview. She was basically assured a job. While it may not be as prestigious as Curatio Validus, she would make a lot of money and hopefully be much happier. She knocked calmly on the door.

"Come in."

The voice sounded gruff and unfriendly, and some of her confidence crumbled away. She pasted a happy smile on her face, and walked smoothly into the room.

"Good morning," she said cheerfully to the Healer behind the desk.

"Miss Granger?"

"Yes, that's me." Hermione held out her hand, expecting him to take it, but he ignored her.

"Well, Miss Granger," he said gruffly, flipping through a stack of paperwork, "I don't know which of our inept office aides got you in here, but there aren't any openings at this moment. So you can just turn around and go home."

Hermione's jaw dropped. "I—what?" she stammered. "But I really need a job. I'm very highly qualified, you see, I studied at—"

"I don't give a damn where you studied," he growled. "The fact is we don't need you right now. If there's an opening feel free to contact us later."

Feeling as though she'd been slapped in the face and silently cursing the office aides, Hermione turned and left slowly. I didn't really want to work here anyways, she told herself, but it just wasn't true. She took a deep breath and Apparated.

"Draco?" she called as she appeared in their living room.

"Back so fast?" He emerged from the kitchen, stuffing something into his back pocket.

"They're not hiring," she said, willing her face not to crumple. She had done entirely too much crying in the past few hours, and was determined not to do any more. "Some stupid office aide scheduled the interview, and the man wasn't at all happy about it."

"Oh, Mya," he said awkwardly. "Don't worry, you'll get a job somewhere."

Hermione shrugged stubbornly. "I don't care."

"Yes, you do."

He was right, of course. He was always right. She did care, she was devastated, and all the doors of opportunity were slamming shut around her. She sank onto the sofa, holding her head in her hands, fighting the emotions that were threatening to tear her apart.

"I wanted to give you something," Draco said, sounding nervous. She looked up at him dully. "It was supposed to be a celebratory sort of thing," he explained, "so I hope you'll accept it, in the state you're in. And if not, I guess, just think about it for awhile before saying anything."

She had never seen him so unsure of himself. "What on earth—" she started to say, but he silenced her with a finger to her lips.

"Just let me do this," he said. To her great surprise, he dropped to his knees before her, digging in his back pocket. He produced a small black box.

Hermione's jaw fell open and tears sprang unrestrained to her eyes.

"Mya," he said quietly, taking her hand, "I love you. I've loved you for years—since university—and I don't think now that I could live without loving you. I want to know if you would do me the incredible honor of—" he flipped the box open to reveal a huge diamond "—becoming my wife?"

Hermione was smiling through her tears, and she extended a shaking hand for him to slip the ring onto her finger. "Of course," she said shakily, "yes, yes, yes. Oh, Draco. I don't know what to say."

"'I love you' would do fine," he suggested, standing and pulling her to her feet.

"I love you," she agreed, kissing him wildly.

- - -

It wasn't until years later, watching their first daughter, Madilyn, as she slept in her bassinette, that Hermione Malfoy remembered her dream. She smoothed her baby's white-blonde hair, smiling. She was now the president of a small new hospital, she was happily married, and her life was perfect. And it was all because Draco had pulled her from her nightmare.

- - -

Complete.

Finally.

Whew.

I am not planning a sequel to this, because I don't feel that it would add to their story in any way, shape, or form. If anyone has any questions about any of the characters or about anything that happened, either email me about it or leave your email address along with your question in your review, and I will try to answer your questions.

This story was loosely based on the song "So Beautiful" by Dashboard Confessional. Actually, technically this story was loosely based on an earlier one-shot I wrote that was based on the song. I'll probably post that sometime. I wrote it a long time ago, and it's not very good, but I think it's interesting to look at the differences between the two stories. So if anyone's interested in that, let me know.

I have been playing around with ideas for new stories; I actually started the first few chapters of one that's meant to be humorous, but I don't know if it's actually going to end up anywhere. But I also have another idea that I've been thinking about for close to a year, and I am going to write that one eventually. It may not be for a long time, and the updates may not be regular (be forewarned—I have a really busy schedule this year), but if you want to read it, it will get up here sometime.

Hope you liked it—I liked writing it, and I liked reading your reviews. See you all again for the next story!

-fallenpetal