Two Years Later
It was the same every month.
Draco preferred to walk the grounds, surrounding himself with the flowers his mother had once loved and tended with care.
It had been a small effort, at first. A way to readjust himself to the manor―to remind himself of the good amongst the years of bad. None of it easy; but all gradual.
More often than not, Hermione accompanied him. She had a keen eye for beauty to which he'd never aspired, and she always gathered an arrangement worthy of his mother's memory.
Every month, Draco found himself before his mother's headstone. He'd had a bench installed, wrought iron in vines and florals―somewhere he could reminisce and remember. Narcissa had loved him in her own way, and though they didn't always get along, Draco never doubted that.
This month felt a little different.
It had been two years since her passing. Two years since the hardest months of Draco's life, wherein everything that comprised him at his very core had been knocked down and rebuilt, painstakingly, from the broken shrapnel of who he had once been.
With careful hands, Hermione laid the bouquet she'd gathered on the base of his mother's gravestone. For several long, sombre moments, Draco simply stared.
He sat on the bench, pulling Hermione's hand into his.
Although he hadn't seen it at the time, his mother had given him so much. He wondered, sometimes, whether she could see him now—whether she would have approved of the life he'd nurtured. Draco liked to think the answer would be yes.
He had never had an eye for design, but Hermione had taken to it with a passion, and she worked with Theo and Andromeda to renovate and revamp Malfoy Manor completely from the ground up. Even with magical means, it had taken the better part of the last two years, and the final touches had just been completed.
No part of the manor reminded Draco of the way it had once been, and it was exactly as he had hoped.
Except for the library.
It had been Hermione's space to do with as she pleased, and he was surprised to find she'd kept it almost exactly as it was, aside from some minor details to brighten up the space and infuse it with new life.
Draco hadn't questioned her motives. After all, it would be her space soon, too. They'd discussed the idea at length and ultimately decided upon moving into the manor―eventually.
He wasn't in any rush.
As he gazed upon his mother's elegant grave, the stunning selection of flowers perched at its base, Draco swallowed. Speaking a few words to his mother inside his mind, he rose to his feet.
"Walk with me?"
Hermione followed, looping an arm around his back as she shifted closer. "Of course."
Draco didn't rush over many things anymore. He'd spent too long being driven forward by forces beyond his control, chasing after some semblance of meaning beyond his reach without any guarantee of finding it.
Now, he preferred to enjoy the small elements of his life that meant the most.
Like his relationship with Hermione, while rocky at times, he wouldn't have it any other way. She had rapidly become the most important person in his life. She was the one to push him, to challenge him, to reach his heart in ways he had never thought anyone would. And given she was nearly through her Unspeakable training, she often teased him with nuggets of obscure information the likes of which he couldn't even comprehend.
But still, she wouldn't tell him what she did all day in the dark.
The deep and implicit bond he'd forged with Andromeda sown from a seed of mutual loss and blossomed into a true familial bond. He'd formed one with Teddy as well, and the boy was trouble enough to keep Draco on his toes at the best of times. But it meant a lot to Draco to hold influence over his young cousin's life―and served as a reminder of the role he played in the lives of others.
His friendship with Theo and Harry, newly married and a mutual pain in Draco's arse. But they were the closest people in his life outside of Hermione.
And his career—which served as the root of redemption and absolution he'd once sought with unrelenting vigour—had opened more doors and led down more paths than he even imagined possible when it had been a fresh and terrifying endeavour.
Their walk of the grounds led past the carriage house. As always, Draco recalled the first and only time Hermione had properly met his mother―and had ultimately created enough of an impression for Narcissa to approve of their relationship.
Even now, it was his favourite place on the grounds.
"I've been thinking," he said into the comfortable silence between them, coming to a halt. "Now that the renovations are complete."
"Mostly," Hermione added.
"Mostly. Well, we might like to reconsider where we're living."
It was a late summer day, and the sun caught in Hermione's brilliant gaze, bringing to life the facets of gold within her chocolate eyes. "What's wrong with the flat?'
Draco smirked, catching her arms and drawing her close. Ducking in, he brushed a kiss to her lips and mused, "Nothing is wrong with the flat. But you've spent two years renovating the manor―it would be an awful shame if you never had a chance to live in it."
And it would―the manor was more gorgeous than ever, simple and understated yet elegant.
Just like the woman he loved.
He caught her slight hitch of breath, and it echoed the way his heart leapt as he waited.
"You want me to move into the manor?" she asked, quiet and careful.
"Only if you want to."
In the silence that followed, Draco felt certain his heart might simply beat free of his chest, laid bare before her as it had been since that first day he'd come across her in the cafe.
The silence grew prolonged, and he could sense something within her hesitation. It was only then that he realised her eyes were glassy.
"I'm sorry," she breathed, swiping a finger beneath one of her eyes. "It's just―I almost can't believe it." Then a slow smile pulled across her face, devastating in its beauty, and beneath the radiance of the late afternoon sun, Draco didn't think he'd ever seen her so perfect.
"I know. I don't mean to drop this on you. It doesn't need to be right away―"
"I'd love to." The quiet words stifled his own in his chest, caught in his throat where his heart beat an anxious cadence.
Before he could allow himself a moment of quiet relief, he blurted out, the words falling unprepared from his lips, "There's something more."
Hermione's brows lifted in surprise. "Something more than asking me to move into your ancient ancestral manor?"
"Yes." He felt like a teenager, palms sweating and jittery, his heart trapped in the teasing warmth of her stare. He cleared his throat. "Yes, something more."
A curious smile curled her lips, and Merlin, he wanted to spend the rest of his life kissing her.
Draco could see the familiar sparkle in her gaze, and he knew. She knew.
Before he could dredge forth the careful, meticulous words he'd prepared, they fell from his lips in a messy, "Marry me?"
Maybe she didn't know. She blinked at him, eyes wide in shock, lips parted for a moment so long it might have been comical if Draco weren't convinced he would be swallowed up by the grass beneath his feet.
"You want me to marry you?" she asked, at last, one hand drifting up to cover her mouth. "Seriously?"
"Yeah." Draco grimaced with a bit of a shrug. "If you want to. I mean―" He scrounged in his pocket, fumbling with the small velvet box, and managed to snap it open. "This isn't exactly how I meant to ask you."
Her eyes shone with moisture and something that might have been adoration―and when she looked at him like that, he still couldn't quite believe it. Through a sniffle, she asked, "How were you going to ask?"
She hadn't even looked down at the ring, eyes locked on his.
His lips twitched. "I was going to ask when we were in Madrid."
"Draco!" Her mouth fell open in disbelief. "That was more than a month ago."
"Tell me about it." Despite himself, Draco took her hand into his, brushing his thumb along her bare ring finger. "I made the mistake of telling Potter at work that I was going to ask you―"
"You told Harry!"
He sighed. "Right, and then Theo sent me a bloody Howler because he wasn't the first to know and―"
A brief, surprised laugh fell from her lips. "And did you plan on telling all of our friends but not me?"
Chastened, he smiled. "You're the third one to know. Promise."
Finally, her gaze dropped towards the contents of the small box he still held out towards her. The cut of the diamond was immaculate, set into white gold with a pair of rubies on either side. Almost imperceptibly, her eyes widened. She released an unsteady breath, and despite the mess he'd made of the situation, she hadn't withdrawn her hand from his.
"You really ought to know by now," she said, at last, turning bright eyes back on him, "that, of course, I want to marry you."
"That's a yes," he muttered.
"It's a yes." A tear slid down her cheek, and he brushed it away, his heart leaping with elation as a grin spread across his face. "Yes to the manor, yes to marriage, Draco―these years together have meant everything to me." As her voice dropped, the smile fell from his face, but she pressed on in a whisper. "You mean everything to me."
"I love you." The words were raw and vulnerable and everything he had learned to be with her. "And that isn't ever going to change."
"I love you," she replied, honest and simple. "I love our life together now, and I know it's only going to get better."
Merlin willing, it would. And though he didn't always know how, he always tried his best to keep her happy.
Somehow, she seemed to like him just as he was.
Managing to subdue the nervous energy in his hands, he slid the ring into her finger. If he hadn't already given his heart to her years ago, he might have thought it would burst.
Hermione caught his face in her hands, kissing him, and when she drew back, her eyes were glossy with the sheen of tears as she breathed, "I can't wait."
Every part of him longed for a lifetime spent with her, and it all narrowed down to the warmth in her gaze.
The way she had given him a chance when he hadn't even seen fit to allow himself the indulgence. And how, time and again, she had stood by his side and chosen him.
When Draco found her, he'd been a shell of the man he once hoped to be. Now, he could spend the rest of his life aspiring to be the man she'd seen in him from the start.
Together, they would navigate this new course ahead, wide open as far as he could see.
fin
Author's Note: Thank you, to every one of you who's joined me on this journey―I almost can't believe we've reached the end. I appreciate all of your kind words and support more than I can say. I sincerely hope you enjoyed reading this story as much as I liked writing and sharing it.
To my amazing team, my ride or die Kyonomiko, and my comma llama FaeOrabel, I love you both. Thank you for your time, love, and patience.
I look forward to sharing many more stories very soon. xo
