Eight Days a Week—larrythestapler
Chapter 4: Love Me—FINISH.
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter! I am so excited to watch the movie, though!
Knock. Knock.
"May I come in?" Hermione asked meekly. Draco rose from his slumber, feeling every aching bone in his body after an attempt to entice Hermione with his sexy literature skills.
"I brought you hydrangeas."
"Hydrangeas? I hate those. They're all wrinkly and weird looking," Draco wrinkled his nose.
"You're—you know what, never mind."
"No, just talk to me. Hermione, I'm tired, every bone in my body is broken, and I'm pretty sure I've just soiled myself because SOMEBODY haven't changed my bedpan yet. Can we just have a real conversation?" Draco cleared his throat loudly, insinuating a volatile nurse to change his bedpan. She glanced, and merely continued shuffling her papers.
"This is our problem. You don't get me. Every time I'm ready for a real conversation you force me into these silly antics. But now, I don't know what to say. Perfect timing." Hermione let out a long sigh as she wrinkled her forehead. She watched the ticking of the perfectly round, bolded clock above her just tick away. Life was difficult, and time lacked kindness. All the minutes and decades in her life were dependent on her reaction to his ultimatum.
"No argument there."
"It's just that I've been waiting for that question like what, a billion years now? But I don't know how to reply. You're a tool. You're absolutely ridiculous. But I don't know how I feel about you right now. I don't know if I love you or hate you or what. It's a great change, and I don't know if I can trust you enough."
"But Hermione, that's what life is about," Draco protested, "If you're going to skate on thin ice, you might as well dance. Life is scary, every day, and you better get used to it or it will eat at you and haunt you. And knowing you, trying to acquire your attention, if I learned one thing, it's that nothing is perfect. Sometimes things don't go the way I plan them to be when I'm with you, but I still end up really liking you. No one is perfect. People make mistakes. Musicians, inspiring, bright ones, all the time. But that doesn't stop their melodies from being beautiful or poignant, not unlike you."
":Fine, you know what, I may not be the perfect guy. And I never will be. Woman, I'm soiling myself right now. And I am marginally attractive, hell I'm a babe magnet. But if I had the choice of having everything in the world to enjoying crappy take-out food and spending some time with you, I'd choose you every time. When I think about it, I'll end up with you, every damn time. And I know sometimes we have problems. But we can work it out somehow like real adults. I'm crazy about you, Hermione Granger. I don't know about you, but when I see you, I see my whole life, with you, the screaming midgets, growing wrinkly like those damn flowers, the whole shebang."
"I need time to think Draco. It's been what, two weeks? Two weeks is not enough to make a decision. Don't get me wrong. I enjoy spending time with you. But I'm not sure if it's right. I can't make a decision quickly off of your impatience. It's not great."
"But no one is perfect. And you have to take this chance. You know you do. I know that I'll never be as smart as you, buff as Potter, whatever. I just want you to know that you're the one I want to spend the rest of my life with, no matter what crap we go through. I love you. And I know that isn't enough to keep a relationship going, but it holds everything together. "
"Wow, that was deep." Hermione's eyes meandered to the open window. Traffic continued as usual, but the sun gave a securing sense of hope as it contrasted the robin sky with a shade of brightness. Hope, perhaps, gave her the consideration, and perhaps curse of Draco Malfoy.
"I was always deep. Don't go Hermione, stay."
"Okay." And just like that, they talked. A boy, a girl, a bedroom with medical supplies. They talked about the future, and not because they were forced to or because there was nothing to do, but rather because they were afraid of it, and needed to talk to it in the face.
"So Hermione Granger, are you ready to become the only Mrs. Draco Malfoy?"
"Too soon. I'll tell you when I'm ready." Hermione gave him a kind smile. Prospect was getting brighter, but being an anal Libra, she needed time to think, perhaps to do some soul searching.
"Mr. Malfoy, here is your bedpan—" A short, wry nurse walked in clicking on a pen as she tapped it on a silver bedpan. As if by an incredibly annoying speech impediment, she clicked her tongue a few times to complete the pulse of the beat.
"Oh perfect timing Clarissa." Draco groaned, as he stood up to change. Hermione picked up her coat and items, and made her way to the door quietly.
"I should go. It was really nice talking to you. We should do this a lot more." Hermione made a small farewell gesture and opened the door.
"No, Hermione, wait—" But it was too late. The door closed shut and a feeling of rejection and cumbersomeness passed through the silence, mocking it continuously.
"Oh, Potter, why are YOU here? You love me more than my girlfriend, quote, do. Aw jeez."
Harry danced to the small seat next to Draco's bedside and laughed. Draco roared.
"So you guys have relationship problems. Chill out, you're only humans. Take a breath, a chance. Try to feel and understand rather than consume robotically. Try taking a step in her shoes. See how she feels right now with you pressuring her."
"Well, she ain't letting me do that."
"Like, oh, my God," Harry mocked in a girlish tone. "Don't think that you're the first people to have relationship troubles. Things that are really worth having? They don't come that easily. Sometimes, when the time is right, you have to be the person to speak up, go after her, and do something about it. It's life, and it's scary, but you have to get used to it, or it'll haunt you forever." Harry clicked his tongue as he gazed into Draco's murky eyes. Draco did not expect this from Harry Potter. Harry Potter was egoistic, proud, and lacked sentimentality. And yet during crunch time, he passed, every time.
"Ahhhh."
"HA, your stumped. Good luck buddy. With the girl and the broken bones. I'm gonna get me some hospital slushies. B-R-B."
So days passed from that. And instead of his girlfriend, a brilliant green-eyed wizard greeted him every morning. Draco's heart grew numb, dejected, until a miraculous vibration came from his table side.
"Answer it woman," Harry said, as he drank down his slushy. "BRAIN FREEZEEEEEEE. OH GOD. OH HELL NO."
"Wait for it. Let it build."
"Pick it up."
"Let her want it."
"Pick it up."
"No."
"Pick it up."
"Yes m'am." Draco's slender fingers wrapped the vibrating phone. And as if Nina Simone was singing to him on the phone, a sweet beautiful voice that had not spoken to him in days answered lowly.
"Hello?"
"Yes?"
"I'm at the park. Ask me again," Hermione croaked through the line. A long beep followed. Draco leaped from his bed, an ignoring the excruciating stab of pain rushing through his body, he leaped into his wheelchair and rolled out of his room. Harry walked behind him, chuckling. Clarissa, however, was not pleased.
"Mr. Malfoy, you cannot leave! Get back this instant!"
"SO LONG SUCKER. YOU GAVE ME A WHEELCHAIR, AND I AIN'T AFRAID TO USE IT." With a rude finger gesture, Draco rolled himself out of the hospital at a ridiculously slow pace. But it was worth it, because Hermione was going to give him the right answer this time. Unfortunately, a broad gray wall stopped him in his tracks.
"Crap, a little help here Potter?" Draco winced at the pain of a sudden stop, and turned to see Harry's bright face.
"All right. I got yo back."
"Then, let her rip."
"The wheel's broken."
"CARRY ME THEN DAMMIT. DON'T JUST STAND THERE."
And with Harry's ridiculously strong back and legs, Draco made it to the park. Evening was setting, and after a ridiculous forty-five minute power walk, Harry made it to the park with Draco's body in his manly hands.
"Women, huh?"
"Yeah, tell me about it, you need to go on a diet tubby."
Draco ignored the comment and perused the park to find the brunette, nerd, love of his life. Evening set in and the fall sky was becoming a hazy orange. He pulled the ring out of his purse, for he was still dressed in a hospital gown and lacked pockets. The ring he had acquired for true love. It felt right at the moment to be looking at the ring, as he saw children and love and an older Hermione. He found the young woman sitting on a red bench, mumbling to herself as she cleaned her fingernails. At his presence, she looked up.
"Draco," she said flatly.
"Hermione."
"So, let's do this."
"Yep. We have lots of time."
"Hermione Granger, will you marry me?" Draco kneeled, wincing, and opened the box.
"Not right yet." Hermione's mouth curled as she sat smugly on the red bench. She waved the box away.
"Hermione…Jane…Granger, um, will you, um marry me?"
"What do you have, a speech impediment?" Hermione snapped.
"I can't help it."
"Get it right." Thus, they continued. Little birds in the air mocked Draco's pleas by singing sweetly to Hermione, and Harry's smug audience smile did not help. But he persisted, but to no avail.
And after numerous tries and a billion variations, Draco grew tired. But his heart told him, one last time, one last time. In his heart, he felt tired and bored asking her. But he remembered, things worth having, never came that easily. Deep inside his heart, he knew it was right. Draco looked at Harry one last time with a jittering glance of anxiety, and faced Hermione with all his confidence. For her, he would do anything. And now was the time to suck it up, ignore all his low self esteem, and ask the question of their lifetime.
"Hermione, will you marry me?"
"Sure."
So there they were. A boy, a girl, and Harry all under the fading sunset and a bizarre will to love.
FIN.
A/N: Eh, I kind of ended it on a sloppy note, but at least it's not on hiatus anymore. Review please!