AN1: So, there's a new poll on my profile. Go vote please! And don't forget to review!

Disclaimer: Yes. I own Harry Potter. That's why I write fan fic. (oozing sarcasm)

NOTA: Es muy posible que esta novela sea mas—acento en la 'a'—corto que el otros cuarenta-y-dos novelas. (If I ruined the Spanish language, I'm sorry!!!)

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"Okay," Draco said as he guided Hermione along, with a blindfold over her eyes. "You can look now. Go on, take off the blindfold."

Hermione did and she saw that they were at Hogwarts, more specifically, in the middle of the Quidditch pitch.

"Oh dear Merlin, Draco, you aren't seriously going to make me ride a broom, are you? I haven't been on one in years, not since the last time you forced me on one in our last year."

"We are flying—"

Hermione didn't let him finish. "You know how much I brooms, so why would we go on one? Why would you have us fly when you full well know that I loathe it!? What kind of a date is this, anyway?"

Draco squeezed her hand, "Don't you trust me?"

"No."

"That's depressing. I think that I'll apparate home now because clearly, I'm not loved."

"Stop it, you know I'm joking! Now what is this grand date that you have planned anyway?"

"You'll see."

"When?" Hermione said impatiently.

"When you look behind you." She turned around and gasped. One hundred feet behind the two was a blue hot-air balloon.

"This is unbelievable! I've always wanted to ride in one of those. How did you get it?"

"I've got connections. Do you want to stand around all day or do you want to go up in the air."

Hermione pretended to think for a moment and replied jokingly. "I think that I'd prefer to stay on the ground."

Unfortunately for her, Draco had other ideas. He picked her up and threw her over his shoulders and carried her to the balloon. It was tethered to a goalpost and already filled with hot air. The only thing left to do—once they were in the basket—was to untie the rope.

"Diffindo!" Draco yelled, and the rope snapped.

From the moment that they started their ascent, Hermione had her head buried into Draco's shoulder.

"You should look down now," Draco said impatiently after they were about 300 kilometers in the air.

"No," she replied stubbornly. "This is scarier than I thought. I don't want to look down. It's just the Quidditch pitch, I've seen it before."

"Au contraire, Mademoiselle" Draco muttered just loud enough for her to hear.

"Excuse me?"

"If you'd look down, you'd see what I'm talking about."

Grumbling, Hermione pried herself off of Draco and went to the corner of the basket and looked down at the pitch.

"..." For once in her life, Hermione Granger was speechless. Tears began to brim in her eyes and she didn't stop them from flowing down her cheeks; she was too happy to care. Written on the pitch, were the words: 'I love you, Hermione. Please be my wife.'

Smiling through her tears, she nodded at Draco and threw herself into his arms. He held her close and stroked her hair.

"I love you, Mrs. Malfoy."

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AN2: Aw! Now isn't that just so adorable?

Tell me in a review your opinion: should I stop this story at 50 chapters, as was my original plan, or should I go to 75 or should I go all the way to 100? I really, really want your opinion! And then once you do that, you should go vote on the poll in my profile. It's about my next Dramione project.

Lovelove, Amanda