All characters belong to JKR

Chapter 26: Honesty:

Draco looked at his watch for the hundredth time. She was late. Not by a lot, but still, she was late. He told her to be back up in his room in an hour, and it had been over an hour. The hotel staff had already brought up dinner, (all her favourites), her gift was sitting safely under the coffee table, and the last note, her real present, was safely on top of the same coffee table.

He turned to survey the room and realized something. The note was gone. He walked over to the table, looked around, got down on his knees, looked on the floor, under the sofa, back on the top, and came to a conclusion. She took the blasted note earlier! She must have read it by now. What would she think of it? Would she see it as a solution to their problem, or as a last ditch effort on his part to salvage things on the off chance that the whole 'quickie wedding' thing didn't work out.

Because that's what it was. It was his back-up plan. He knew he really only had a small, slim, sliver of a chance to trick her into marriage, so he came up with another way for them to continue to see each other, and he was going to present it to her tonight, by having her read the last note, but now it was gone.

She ruined her own surprise, damn her. She really did make things difficult, didn't she? It was a good thing that he loved her now, because otherwise he would find her incredibly annoying.

He sat down on the sofa to think about things. Maybe that's why she was late. She read the note and she didn't know what to make of it. She certainly went berserk in the car earlier, when she thought (found out?) his plans to trick her into marriage, so really, this should have pleased her. Seriously, he wasn't offering something insane like marriage this time. This was different. This really should make her happy! She shouldn't get her knickers into a twist over the contents of this last note.

He looked at his watch once more. She was eighteen minutes late. He was going to go down to her room, pull her up here by her hair, and demand that she be honest with him. Damn her! If she didn't want to marry him, fine, he would accept that for now, but what right did she to steal the note? Okay, he did 'halfway' tell her take the stupid thing if she wanted to; still, she shouldn't have taken it.

Furthermore, what right did she have to stand him up on her birthday? It was her birthday, sure, but it was just as important to him. Couldn't she see that?

The more he honestly mulled over these things in his head, the angrier he became. He stormed over to the door, about to implement his whole, 'pulling her up here by her hair' scheme when he heard a knock. He knew it was she. He squared back his shoulders, and opened the door.

As soon as he saw her, his anger abated. Perhaps it was because she seemed sad. Perhaps it was because she looked so very beautiful. Or perhaps it was because he suddenly didn't care if she had read the note or not. He leaned forward and said, "Happy Birthday, my darling Granger," and with that said, he kissed her cheek, held the door open, and she walked into the suite.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Hermione painted on a grin, and smiled at Draco as he reached for her hand and pulled her into his room. She wouldn't let the contents of the note ruin this evening. He walked over toward the opened doors that led to the balcony, pointed to a table that he had set up right outside, and he said, "Go on out to the balcony, and I'll be right out." He walked over to the bedroom and shut the door. She hurried to retrieve the note from her purse and started to place it back where she found it earlier, on the coffee table, when he stepped back into the room. She palmed the note and smiled again.

He eyed her suspiciously, but said nothing. He said, "Shall we?" He offered his arm and she walked with him outside.

She placed her napkin on her lap, and before she started to eat, she noticed that he had all of her favourite foods on the table. "Malfoy, how did you know that all of these were my favourite foods?"

"I know a thing or two about you," he answered honestly. "I did go to school with you for a long time. I sat at the table across from your table. One couldn't help but notice Weasley devouring his food, and since you usually sat next to him, I watched you, too."

She went to reach for her fork, but she still had the note in her hand. She slipped the note under her hip on the chair, took a bite of her roasted chicken, and then pointed with her fork and gasped, before saying, "You even have my favourite wine! I didn't drink wine at Hogwarts."

He grinned and said, "Are you sure? I think you had to be half sloshed out of your mind most of the time. Why else would a perfectly intelligent girl have a crush on Weasel?"

She smirked and said, "I found him quite handsome."

He sputtered, spitting out a mouth full of potatoes, which in turn made her snort. "Handsome? What does that say for your opinion of me? You must view me as a Greek God or something."

"You're something, alright," she laughed. "Did you really notice me in school?" She looked at him beguiling.

"A bit." He didn't elaborate, and when she put her fork down and stared at him, he finally said, "Fine, I hated you on the outside, but on the inside, you always turned my heart to gelatin."

She giggled again and said, "I doubt that. You were always so mean to me in school, and you were such a brat. Spoiled, pampered, egotistical, and a bully through and through."

He nodded along with her assessment and said, "I agree. Was that statement meant to humble me, because frankly, the thought that you understood the real me back then sort of turns me on."

Hermione finally laughed outright, forgetting the note, and its contents, and realizing that THIS was what she wanted. Someone who could hold up his end of the conversation, could make her laugh, could challenge her, and make her feel special. Marriage wasn't as important as being with him. The fourth note was beginning to making good sense. She thought it might be something she could live with.

He reached over, speared one of her carrots with his fork, and said, "Did you ever remotely think of me in school as anything other than spoiled, pampered, and so on and so forth?"

"I thought your self-assuredness was an act," she said plainly. "I thought you were one of the most insecure people I knew."

He frowned, not just with his mouth, but his whole face. He said sarcastically, "Well, tell me the truth, Granger. Don't hold back. Be honest."

She sighed and said, "I'm sorry, but you asked."

"I meant, did you think I was dashing or any such tripe. I didn't want a psychological profile of my youth examined," he waned. "Do you want to know what I thought about you? I thought you overcompensated when you were in school. You know… must be the best, the smartest, a teacher's pet, and all because you knew you had inferior blood."

She banged on the table, and he looked up from cutting his steak and shrugged. She mocked, "Tell me the truth, Malfoy. Don't hold back."

"Oh hell, we were both flawed," he concluded. "I was everything you said, because I was basically insecure, and you were a bit of what I said, but not because you really were inferior, but because you thought other people thought that."

"I mainly thought that you thought that, but I suppose that statement is fair enough," she agreed with a slight nod of her head.

They ate, reminisced, and laughed some more. Finally, he placed his napkin on the table and said, "Stay here." He came back out with a chocolate soufflé, a sparkler sticking out of the top, the sparks - red, green, white, jetting off the end. She smiled and clapped.

"I love chocolate!"

"I know," he answered. "Sorry there's only one sparkler, but if I put one for each year, the hotel might catch on fire."

He smiled and she shook her head. "You're so droll," she said with a sigh.

"I'm a troll?" he asked. He laughed, because he had heard her. He hooked the leg of the chair next to her with his foot, and pulled it out slightly. He sat beside her, pushed her shoulder into his and said, "Make a wish."

She glared at him and said, "Why, it won't come true."

"It might," he said, holding the dessert under her nose, passing it back and forth.

"Not possible," she answered cryptically, "because it already has."

He understood what she meant, and he thought it was an exceedingly sweet thing for her to think. He placed the flaming soufflé on the table quickly, put both hands on her face, pulled her toward him and kissed her lips soundly.

He placed his mouth near her ear and said, "It's not my birthday, and my wish came true, too."

She pushed slightly away from him and asked, "What was your wish?"

"A night of hot passionate sex with you," he answered with a lewd grin.

She bit her bottom lip and said, "That's not a wish, but a pipe dream, and it won't come true. My wish however, did come true."

He skimmed his knuckles down her face and said, "Do tell."

"You," she said candidly.

He let out the breath he was holding and shut his eyes for the briefest of moments. He cupped her face again, and said, "Blow out the candle then, and make your wish official."

She turned toward the sparkler, and blew. He watched as her mouth formed the most perfect 'O' he had ever seen, so he moved his face in front of hers, and kissed that perfect mouth, placing his lips gently on hers.

He pulled her to stand, her hands in his, and then he placed his arms protectively around her body. Music started, she never questioned from where, and they began to move back and forth, still in more of an embrace, than a dance.

Despite a faint, lingering doubt, in the back of her mind of just how they would continue with this relationship, she felt safe and loved, two things she hadn't felt in such a long time. She put her arms around his waist, clasping her hands together, and resting her cheek on his chest. She said, "Thank you for a lovely birthday."

He answered, "It's not over yet."

She found the man in her arms impossible to resist, despite their past, despite his reputation, despite their hurdles. There was more to him than good looks and a biting wit, and she was determined to discover everything there was about him. Still, on the off chance that this might not go beyond this weekend, she wouldn't give him all of her. She would hold back a bit of her heart, in case it got broken. That way, if he broke it, she would still have a bit intact for future use.

That meant no matter how much they both wanted it, she wouldn't slip with him. She couldn't give him that last piece of her heart, the piece that went with being intimate. The piece saved for making love. She honestly wouldn't survive if she gave him it all, and it didn't go past tonight. Therefore, she wouldn't sleep with him this weekend, no matter what.

He was exasperating sometimes, but he was also funny and exciting. He was a cad, but just a bit, and he was cynical to a degree, but so was she. She let herself relax completely in the framework of his arms, and she knew even if this weekend was a mistake, it was a mistake that she would never regret. This day was almost perfect. Almost. Suddenly, she remembered the note. She moved her head toward the other side, and looked at her empty chair. The note had dropped to the floor.

He was looking at it, too. She looked up at his face, and his gaze went from the note to her eyes. Just a second ago, she felt heaven in his embrace and she was without a care, but that moment was gone. He let go of her, and bent down, scooped up the note and said, "I wonder how this got out here?"

He raised one eyebrow and looked directly in her eyes again. She almost told him the truth, but instead, she lied. "I took it with me earlier, to read it, but I was resolute not to do so. I didn't want to ruin anything, so I brought it back up here, and I decided I would only read it if and when you wanted me to," she said.

At that moment, he wanted to believe her, because she had only ever been honest with him. He said, "I have another present for you and then I thought we would take a walk. Go to our bench, and then perhaps, you'll want to read the note."

She didn't want to read the note, because she already had and it didn't say what she wanted it to say, but he had given her such a perfect birthday, that she couldn't begrudge him, so she smiled and said, "Alright."

He towed her inside and pointed toward the couch. She sat down and he reached under the coffee table and handed her a long box, similar to the box she had received before her date, the one containing the red roses. She thought that was the contents of this box, but when she opened it she saw it was so very different. She lifted the lid and inside were two intertwined white roses, but they were so much more. They were almost animated, and they shimmered and glowed in the hushed lighting of his suite. She picked them up in unison, the stems wrapped elegantly around each other.

She looked up him, questioning, and he said, "They represent you and me and this magical place, and this wondrous weekend. Do you like them? They'll last forever." In his mind, he added, 'just like us'.

She smiled her response and he took them from her hand and said, "Close your eyes." She did and he brushed the petals of the joined roses over her lips and then he placed them back in the box on the table, before he leaned forward and kissed her once more.

And they continued to kiss. Nothing mattered but their kiss. The kiss started tenderly, then gravitated toward something more. Hermione was only aware of his body pressing hers to her back, his chest leaning on her chest, his hand bringing her legs off the floor to lie out in front of her, his lean frame pressing onto hers. His hand caressed up and down her face, neck and arm. He moved so he was beside her, rather than on her, with her back pressed up against the couch.

She trembled and he felt out of control. He knew what he wanted to do, but he didn't know how to proceed and not spoil the last surprise, her real present, the thing he offered her on the note. If he didn't stop soon, he would HAVE to make love to her. There would be no turning back.

The note was a solution they needed to continue to see each other, and so they could openly express their love.

In addition, he wanted to save his passion for later, because no matter what she believed in her perfectly little, uptight brain, they were definitely going to make love tonight, no ifs, ands, or buts.

Removing his mouth from hers, he openly sighed before pressing his forehead to hers, and resting his hand on her hip. "Oh, my little Granger, whatever shall I do with you?"

"Not what you're intending, I'm sure," she said, though her ragged breath told the truth behind her words. He knew that he could have her easily, but then, where was the fun in that?

He rolled off her and stood up. He offered his hand again and said, "Let's go for that midnight stroll."

The walked silently out of his room, down the corridor, toward the lifts, and then out of the resort toward the boardwalk.

Later that evening:

Standing on the beach, she seemed sullen and sad suddenly. He turned to her and said, "Really, my Granger, if I did something wrong, or if I forgot something, tell me. If you're worried about something, or upset, I want to know. Your birthday isn't over yet. We can still make it perfect. We have," he looked at his watch, "fourteen more minutes."

She turned to him and then to his surprise she cupped his cheek and said, "Why don't you want to marry me?"

A/N: Okay, so it's been a week since I updated. My Beta told me she almost sent out a search party for me. The truth was that I had a very busy week at work last week, nine days in a row, two twelve hour days thrown in the mix. This coming week should be better. I have another chapter completely ready to be posted, too.

Personal A/N: Great news from the oncologist! I'm going to be perfectly fine! No other treatment is required! The surgery was all I needed, and I only have to follow up with the doctor in three months, and the surgeon in a year. YEAH! Thanks to everyone for their positive thoughts and prayers, and I hope to put all of this behind me now. It's been four stressful months. Thanks everyone!