A/N: I had meant for this to be a one-shot type deal, at the start at least. As soon as I reached the end, I left it open, so that I could go on if I felt like it. And I do. Sorry for confusion on the first chapter... the part where all the scenes are cutting in and out. I was watching Memoirs of a Geisha and I was thinking about how cool it would be if in a movie someone was performing a piece and at the same time the story was moving way forward. So forgive me if you were completely lost.

"I hope all my days are lit by your face,

I hope all the years hold tight our promises."

Draco woke up, he'd been dreaming of her again. Even now her face floated before his eyes. He knew every facet of her brown hair and every detail of her slightly freckled face. Hermione Granger was the girl of his dreams, literally.

He had been dreaming about their first kiss, he recalled. But in his dream she'd been wearing a white dress and she'd said she loved him. A very good dream then.

"I don't want to be old and sleep alone.

An empty house is not a home,

I don't want to be alone and feel afraid."

Draco sat up and put his legs over the side of the bed. Had he always been so deathly pale? Maybe. He stood up, creakily and looked around with slightly blurry eyes. His room was a mess, but he just didn't have the mobility required to keep it clean. He stumbled past the stacks of books. Books he'd read trying to occupy his time, trying to be more like her.

He grabbed his dressing gown and moved down the stairs, very slowly. This house was amazingly small, he'd sold his mansion. Too much room, and no one to share it with had been the reason. Now he shuffled across the narrow landing and moved into the kitchen. He was craving something, but didn't kow what. He ended up rumaging through every cupboard and decided that tea was his best bet.

Something sweet, to balance out the bitter. He put some water on and waited for it to boil. The hallway clock struck midnight. He jumped. The stairs creaked and Draco's eyes widened. The house was old, and he suspected haunted, although he hadn't seen any appirations yet. He felt something he hadn't in a long time... frightened.

"And if I need anything at all.

I need a place that's hidden in the deep,

Where lonely angels sing you to your sleep."

Another day where he had nothing to do but putter around his garden. He sat in the thick of it, his arms covered up to the elbows in soil. The wind picked up, whistling through the neatly clipped hedges and ruffling Draco's white hair. He sat back on his heels and surveyed his work. Three tomato plants and six rows of string beans. He smiled absently and stood up.

It took him a moment to straighten, his back being what it was. Sunset was fast approching, the sky already taking on crimson and amber hues. He wiped his hands off on his old blue overalls and picked up his tools. He shuffled to the small shack that served as his garage and shoved the tools onto a shelf. He locked the door and made for the house.

Once inside, he sighed into the cooler air. Enchanments to make things more comfortable were his specialty. The old wireless radio was on, blasting out some old tunes from when he was young. He turned it up and headed into the kitchen to wash up. He was picking at the dirt underneath his nails when a soft sad tune began to play. He closed his eyes and shuddered.

Her voice came sailing out, heartbroken and young sounding. The song was thirty years old, playing on even though she had been dead three years now.

"Though all the world is broken,

I need a place where I can make my bed,

A lover's lap where I can lay my head.

Because now the world is spinning,

The day's beginning."

Draco sprang up with wild eyes and looked around. Hermione was sitting across from him, her eyes round and interested. He looked at his hands, smooth and perfect.

"Bad dream?" Hermione questioned and Draco nodded his heart finally slowing down.