Can't Help Falling In Love With You- Chapter Fifteen

CHAPTER 15

Draco didn’t know where he was, but he was flying through twisting labyrinths of flashing lights and inky blackness. He had the most peculiar feeling of falling yet running forward at the same time, and he could hear words being gently spoken through the roars of what sounded like thunder booming all around him. He vaguely wondered if he was on his way to heaven or hell.

“It’s been two days, professor, and neither one of them have woken up yet. Why aren’t they waking up?” This voice sounded young and familiar, but it was wracked with tension.

Then, a much more aged and calm voice spoke, “You must give them time, Harry. Mr. Malfoy has experienced a bitter ordeal, and Mr. Armani was unfortunately able to cause some damage with his final spell. As for Miss Granger…well, Professor Snape is doing his best, Harry. But it seems that Mr. Armani performed the curse even more powerfully than you had last year, thus Severus is finding it difficult to rectify everything.”

An anxious, high-pitched female voice arose. “Please, professor, do something! What if they never wake up?!”

The wizened man appeared to have cleared his throat before saying soothingly, “Miss Weasley, you must keep faith. These two are very strong individuals and I, for one, am not worried about their recovery.”

Draco hovered tantalizingly close to recognizing the speakers, but just as he neared the names, he fell backwards into another maze of never-ending bends and turns before drowning in an onyx sky of angels silently singing.

Wake up, wake up, wake up…

************

Draco felt himself struggling to open his eyes, but they felt as if they were sewn tightly across the lids. Taking a quick breath to prepare himself, he tore through the seams and weakly gazed through his eyelashes up at a blanket of swirling white and gold.

Could I really be in heaven, he wondered in awe just as a yell broke through the quiet atmosphere.

“PROFESSOR, PROFESSOR, COME QUICK! DRACO’S FINALLY AWAKE!”

This painful (to Draco’s wretched, unaccustomed ears) outburst was met by a quick reprimand. “Mr. Zabini, as excited as I know you are, I cannot have you sounding like a rabid chimp amidst my patients!”

Draco finally realized that Blaise was sitting next to him and strained to fully open his eyes as the other boy answered contritely, “Sorry, Madame Pomfrey. But he really is awake. Alive, at least. Come and see!”

He heard the sound of someone being pushed aside (a small “oof” from Blaise), and felt a cool fabric being pressed to his forehead. “Come, come, Mr. Malfoy,” Madame Pomfrey urged, dabbing away at his face. “It’s high time you woke up. Look at all the people waiting for you. That’s it,” she chirped as he widened his eyes, blinking rapidly to steady his vision. “That’s more like it. I must say, Mr. Malfoy, you have quite the dedicated group of friends.”

Madame Pomfrey slowly helped Draco sit up and placed multiple plump pillows behind him to give him support. The first face Draco saw was Blaise’s, but then he noticed more people surrounding his bed: Harry, Ron, Ginny, Theodore, Pansy, and even Daphne (though he didn’t bother to acknowledge her). Harry was looking at him gratefully, his green eyes unusually red, but Ron had his face buried in his hands and remained silent. Ginny and Pansy both bore tear-stained faces but awarded him watery smiles that Draco knew took a lot of effort to maintain. Theodore, obviously not comfortable with public displays of affection, simply nodded at him once before staring back down at his shoes, and Daphne wore a ridiculous expression on her face – a contorted combination of adoration and snobbery.

Finally, Draco looked over everyone’s heads to see Dumbledore watching him. As Draco sat there on the bed, his mind still moving at a more sluggish pace than usual, Dumbledore quietly herded everyone out of the infirmary, stating that the patients needed an undisturbed atmosphere now.

Once they all had grumbled and left, Dumbledore returned to where Draco was and conjured up a dark green armchair to sit in. “Good afternoon, Draco.”

Draco coughed a little before clearing his throat and rasping, “Hello, Professor Dumbledore.”

“How do you feel?”

“Been better.”

“I don’t doubt that. You had quite an encounter at the Halloween Ball, and I daresay it has taken you a good length of time to get a handle on your recovery since then.”

Draco groaned almost imperceptibly as his arms began aching, but Dumbledore did not fail to notice it. “I see your injuries haven’t been entirely healed yet. I’m afraid that there’s nothing to do for them really, and you will have to remain here for perhaps three or four more days before you are discharged.”

“What happened to Armani?” Draco mumbled, fully aware that he sounded like someone was grating away his voice box with sandpaper.

Dumbledore sighed. “He has been properly taken care of. I think Azkaban has found a suitable cell for his stay of two years in the company of the ever-so-friendly dementors. I only wish I’d noticed the problem at the ball earlier. Just before Professor Flitwick was able to destroy the enchanted wall, Mr. Armani managed to hit you with a strong knock-out spell that caused you to pass out before we could reach you. Mr. Zabini and Miss Weasley are perfectly fine, as you saw, but I’m afraid even with Professor Snape’s expertise, Miss Granger’s condition is an entirely different and delicate situation.”

With a terrible jolt of remembrance, Draco violently started forward and gasped. “HERMIONE! How – how is she?” He whipped his head around frantically, searching for the girl who now meant more to him than anything ever had. “Please, Professor,” he begged, dismissing all pride and haughtiness. “I need to see her. Please, tell me, where is she?”

Dumbledore wordlessly pointed to a bed confined by three large screens at the other side of spacious room. Without a moment’s hesitation, Draco threw off his covers and hobbled his way over to the designated bed, ignoring the throbbing stings pricking at his legs and chest. Just before he reached the screens, he glanced back once to see Dumbledore noiselessly bolting the door before leaving. Now uninhibited and losing sensation in his calves, Draco tugged away the screen on the left, stumbled through the opening, and nearly lost his breath all over again when he saw the heart-breaking sight in front of him.

There she was…peaceful, oblivious, and impossibly beautiful…the diamond in the rough.

Her head was wrapped in a thin bandage to help a wound on her forehead heal, but what made Draco panic the most was that her entire torso was bound by thick, opaque bandages stained in numerous spots by scarlet blood. He watched with relief as her chest slowly rose and fell while she breathed, and he laid his hand on top of hers, her fingers icy compared to his warmer ones.

“She isn’t out of danger yet,” someone intoned next to Draco.

Startled, Draco snatched his hand back and looked up to see his godfather staring down at Hermione’s tranquil face. “Haven’t you – haven’t you done something?” Draco asked in a trembling voice.

Snape’s face maintained its impassive expression. “Of course I have. But I am unsure as to what extent my remedies are working. Such curses do not always come with perfect cures, and she has very little time left.”

“But it’s your damn spell!” Draco nearly shouted out of frustration. Why was Snape treating this like a simple classroom assignment? Why was he acting like he didn’t care? “You created it, so you must have made some sort of counter-curse or something!”

Snape shook his head, his hair lightly swishing from one side to the other, and answered in his typical monotone, “I never intended for anyone to use this spell other than me, Draco. And believe me when I say that I reserved this curse for those who truly deserved the pain. There is nothing more I can do now than improvise on my old ideas and watch as things pan out.”

Draco felt like shaking the older man until his teeth rattled. He stood up and glared daggers into his godfather’s face as he pointed at Hermione who was still in a deep slumber. “Look at her,” he spat with an unforgiving undertone. “There she lies, continually bleeding, so exhausted she can hardly keep herself breathing, not yet broken, but on the verge of being so…and all you can say is there’s nothing more you can do!? Do you feel nothing? Do you not see the pain that is written across her face? Do you not understand the pain that I feel, that I’m enduring...?”

Something flickered behind the fathomless black beads through Snape’s mask of apathy. Snape avoided meeting Draco’s scrutiny, but said almost inaudibly as he continued to gaze down at Hermione’s dozing form, “I know exactly how it feels. I know this pain very well.”

Draco, still breathing heavily from the mixture of pain and anger that was overflowing within him, watched as Snape turned his head and saw what was written all over the man’s countenance: sorrow.

“I remember her,” Snape whispered, his lips barely moving. “The way her red hair would ripple in the sunlight, the way her green eyes would glow whenever she was excited, the way…” He bowed his head and choked, unable to speak any longer.

Extremely confused, Draco gingerly sat down on the edge of Hermione’s bed. “I don’t understand,” he mumbled. “Who are you talking about?”

Snape raised his head and Draco fleetingly saw a single tear slide down his godfather’s cheek. “Lily Potter,” Snape uttered. In those two words, Draco heard a thousand emotions cascade through the air: anguish, nostalgia, passion, longing, and most importantly, a very deep love. But as he registered Snape’s reply, he felt shocked. Severus Snape was in love with Lily Potter? What alternate universe was this!

“What ever happened to you both?” Draco asked tentatively. He had never seen this side of the professor before.

Snape hurriedly wiped away the traitorous teardrop clinging to his jaw and rearranged his features back into the bourgeois indifference. When he spoke, his tone was cold and hard. “We grew up.”

Wow. I’ve never seen him so vulnerable before.

Yeah, it’s like he’s a whole new man. Who knew Severus Snape actually has a heart?

I’m worried, Draco. Do you think he’ll find something for Hermione? What if…

Shut up. Don’t even go there. You know damn well nothing is going to happen to her. Snape will figure out something; he isn’t an accredited Potions master for nothing, you know. Besides, Hermione wouldn’t let You-Know-Who stop her, much less that Italian dickhead!

You’re right. I just need to stop being so nervous and buck up. But what the hell are we doing here, sitting around like we’re discussing the flipping weather? Get your head out of the clouds and make that relative of yours get to work! We CANNOT let Hermione give up!

Draco shook his head to clear all other thoughts as he said firmly, “Professor, it’s time you returned to concocting a remedy for Hermione. Don’t worry, I’ll stay here with her, but please, let’s not waste any more time.”

Snape nodded quickly before turning on his heel and exiting in a swoosh of his long, black cloak. Once Draco was sure that there was no one else around, he dragged his chair closer to the bed and laid his head down on the large pillow next to Hermione’s. He could feel his own tears threatening to plummet to the sheets while he softly stroked Hermione’s pale cheek, and he’d nearly fallen asleep when he felt an infinitesimal movement next to him. Rapidly pushing himself off the bed, he examined Hermione’s face intently and searched for some small sign that would tell him that he hadn’t imagined the twitch. However, after a minute or so, Draco sighed dejectedly and covered his face in his hands, angry with his mind for playing tricks on him.

He stayed like that, unmoving, when the most incredible thing happened. He heard a small moan.

Now on his feet, Draco gripped Hermione’s hand in his and willed all of the powers of the universe to wake the girl who was currently breathing a bit faster than before. “Hermione, Hermione, please,” he called, those damned tears making their way out onto the planes of his cheekbones. “Hermione, please wake up. We’re all waiting for you. I’m waiting for you. Damn it, wake up!”

To his amazement, it seemed as if she’d actually heard him, for after he finished talking, she began to open her eyes painstakingly and slowly. After what felt like all of eternity repeating itself, Draco finally found himself lost in the most entrancing pair of mahogany orbs he’d ever seen.

“Hermione,” he breathed. “Hermione, it’s me.”

She smiled warmly before exhaling and saying faintly, “I was waiting for you. I knew you’d come.”

Draco fell into the chair and tightened his grasp on her hand. He was alarmed at how brittle she felt. He fought to keep his emotions under control as he said, “How do you feel, Hermione? What do you want me to do for you? Tell me what to get you!”

She shook her head twice. “Just stay,” she said. “Don’t leave me, Draco.”

He pressed his lips to her hand and promised fiercely, “I will never leave you!”

Hermione smiled again, but suddenly arched her back and let out a strangled cry. “Hermione!” Draco shouted just as she dropped back to the bed, panting.

“No, don’t worry, Draco,” she wheezed with her forehead crumpled in pain. “I’m fine. Just please, don’t leave me alone here.”

“I won’t,” he whispered. He felt so distraught. The torment of watching Hermione writhe in spasmodic bouts of burning agony was gradually eating away his heart. Why did it have to be her? He would have gladly offered himself as a substitute for her, if it just meant having her rid of this anguish, this incessant pulsing of hurt.

Hermione reached up and touched her forefinger to his face where a tear was steadily descending. “Oh, now, what’s this? Why are there tears in your eyes, Draco?”

Draco swallowed the immense lump stuck in his throat and choked down his sobs. “I – I can’t help it, Hermione. It just hurts so much to see you like this. You don’t deserve any of this, Hermione, not a single fucking ounce of it!” He voiced his earlier thought. “Why did it have to be you?”

She said nothing, but merely mustered up the strength to lift her arms. Draco instantly knew what she wanted and draped his body across the left side of the bed, holding her as gently as a mother held her newborn.

He had his face buried into the smooth expanse of her shoulder when she abruptly opened her mouth and began to sing weakly into his ear:

Wise men say

Only fools rush in

But I can’t help

Falling in love with you…

She paused in an effort to regulate her breathing and then continued, her words flowing pure and sweet, but the sounds so broken and feeble.

Shall I stay?

Would it be a sin,

If I can’t help

Falling in love with you…

For I can’t help

Falling in love with you…

It was the final straw for Draco; he just couldn’t hold back any longer. Without warning, his sobs exploded onto her neck and he lay there creating waterfalls on her skin. He felt her shake a tiny bit beside him and knew that she was crying too. Hating his weakness, he drew back from her tired arms and wiped his eyes on the thin fabric of the infirmary outfit. “I’m sorry, Hermione, I’m no good at this declaring my feelings stuff. I’m not like Blaise or Theo who send their girlfriends chocolates and complimentary sonnets. I’m not like Harry who regularly hugs and snogs his girlfriend no matter how crowded of a place they’re in, I’m not – ”

“Draco Malfoy,” Hermione chuckled quietly, the brown of her eyes glistening with pearls of unshed droplets. “Will you just shut up and say it!”

Draco froze. His mind raced as his heart urged him to say what he’d been keeping bottled up for so long. Do it, Draco, do it! Say it! SAY IT!

And at long last, the timeless words that sculpt the destinies of gods and men fell from Draco Malfoy’s lips.

“I love you.”

******

As Draco said the historic words, he leaned in to kiss her but immediately noticed something was amiss. Seeing that she had closed her eyes again and wasn’t opening them confirmed his suspicions, but it wasn’t until he lowered his gaze and saw that her chest had stopped rising and falling that he really flew into action.

Letting his adrenaline take the place of all the aches in his body, Draco swerved out from behind the screens and yelled wildly, “PROFESSOR SNAPE! PROFESSOR SNAPE!”

A dark shadow emerged from behind the doors of Madame Pomfrey’s office and spoke, “What? What is it!?”

Draco dashed to where the professor was standing with his wand in his hand and panted with horror, “It’s her! She’s not breathing!”

Snape cursed under his breath and raced back to Hermione with Draco struggling to keep his feet moving at his side. Not wasting any time, Snape first felt for Hermione’s pulse, which was thankfully there, and then grazed his wand back and forth over Hermione’s body muttering what sounded like complex spells under his breath. Draco watched, petrified, as parts of Hermione’s body began flashing in glaring reds and greens.

Now keeping his hands suspended above Hermione, Snape closed his eyes and silently mouthed nonverbal incantations, a few of which Draco recognized through his haze of dread: “neurona preservus”, “corpus sanus preservus”, and “viscus fortis”.

Suddenly, Snape barked, “Draco! Run and get the small cauldron sitting on the floor in the office. Run!”

In a flash, Draco gritted his teeth and sprinted towards the office. Once inside the small room, he grabbed hold of a tiny, black cauldron filled halfway with an unpleasant smelling purple liquid and half-ran and half-walked back to Snape.

The moment Draco sat the cauldron down on the floor, Snape used his wand to slash through the bandages on Hermione’s trunk. Draco could feel himself turning a light shade of green. This was wrong, it was indecent to expose Hermione’s bare chest in such a vulgar way. He tried to look away, but Snape made that impossible by handing Draco his wand and commanding him to keep it trained on Hermione in order to sustain the flashing lights for as long as possible.

Then, Draco watched as Snape used a ladle to scoop up some of the purple goo-like substance and poured it on the lit wounds covering Hermione’s otherwise flawless complexion. Draco heard Snape sigh in relief as one by one, the flashes abated and the deep gashes on her stomach and chest began shrinking. But although the curse’s effects were beginning to subside, Snape commenced reciting the former spells over and over again as if building wall after wall of resistance around Hermione.

After endless minutes ticked away, Snape finally concluded his incantations by replacing Hermione’s worn, stained bandages with fresh, white ones. Exhausted and emotionally drained, Draco thrust the wand in his hand at the older man and fell to his knees next to the bed. He stared at Hermione who was breathing normally again while Snape aimed his wand at her one final time and wearily said, “Enervate.”

In a few seconds, Hermione stirred marginally before rising and smiling at Draco and Professor Snape. Draco almost forgot how to breathe when Hermione haltingly rotated herself on the bed so that her feet were finally over the floor and stepped down to kneel next to him. Snape took the cue and stepped out of the little enclosure.

“Draco,” she whispered as she cupped his face in her now warm palm, “Before we talk about anything else, will you do something very important for me right now?”

Feeling his heart sink as he thought that she would want to see Harry and the others now, Draco nodded in resignation. “Of course I’ll go get them. Hold on.”

She grabbed hold of his arm and kept him kneeling. “No!” she exclaimed. “I mean, yes, I’ll see them, but not now…right now, I have something else in mind.”

Suddenly, Draco’s sinking heart found a foothold somewhere in the figurative quicksand and lugged itself back up to the space behind his ribcage.

“What exactly could that be?” he said, very aware that she was a hair’s breadth away from him.

She grinned at him, her gaze locked onto his lips. “Something I’ve wanted you to do for a very, very long time.”

That was all the encouragement Draco needed. Without further ado, he practically pounced on her and kissed her as if his life depended on it. Being careful as to not press down in any way on the tender areas of her still recovering body, he rested his hands on her forearms and pulled her as close as possible to his body without actually touching her, all the while snogging her with so much abandon that apparently someone felt the need to ruin the moment by saying, “They get any closer and they won’t need to haul off to a corner somewhere to have sex.”

Hermione released herself from Draco’s steamy embrace and sat back, her eyes unnaturally bright and her cheeks flushed a brilliant red.

Draco turned around with a snarl and yanked the screens away to reveal a group of what he considered miserable miscreants huddling around the bed. At the foot of the bed stood a smirking Blaise Zabini with his arm around Ginny who was hosting obvious google-eyes. However, as soon as Hermione came into everyone’s line of vision, the redhead screamed and flung herself on top of Hermione who didn’t say anything, but simply rocked back a bit with her own arms wrapped tightly around Ginny.

After Ginny let go of Hermione, she cried, “Hermione! Oh my god, you’re all right! We were so damn worried about you, ‘Mione, I can’t even begin to explain it.”

Hermione didn’t reply, but still sat there, her eyes now gaining a frenzied touch and her bottom lip quivering.

Draco crouched to the floor, swiveled Hermione around, and shook her lightly. “Hermione? Hermione! What’s wrong? What is it?”

“Don’t worry, Draco,” Professor Snape said with what sounded almost like cheerfulness in his tone. “I think Miss Granger is finally retrieving her memories.”

Everyone gasped at once, but no one felt a greater shock than Draco.

But…but…you realize what that means, Draco? Your kiss actually jumpstarted her memory! You! Your kiss! You brought back her memory, mate! YOU DID IT!

You know what this means, don’t you, the other voice said quietly with suppressed disappointment. You’ll be nothing to her again, just like before. She’ll return to her old group of friends, you’ll retire to your old Slytherin clan, and it will all go back to the way it was before all of this.

Think about that later! Hermione is finally waking up for real!

Exactly. Hermione was finally emerging from the clouds that had muddled her memories for so long. No longer would her friends have to randomly bring up topics from over the years to somehow get her brain to start working again. No longer would the teachers have to thrown on facades of happiness whenever she walked by. No more would she have to suffer from the curse of a forgotten past…

But this means… she’ll no longer be in love with you. Once those memories fully return, she’ll still somewhat despise you like she did before, you know that. What Armani told her was true enough. You have ties to the Dark Lord, to Death Eaters galore, and to everything Dumbledore and all the good people in this world have worked against. You’re not worthy of her anymore, Draco. You’re not worthy.

But – but that kiss on the Quidditch pitch…she told me herself once that she’d never experienced such passion before!

You think a few golden moments of passion equals her considering you her soul mate? Fuck it all, Draco, one kiss is not going to throw the cosmos into your favor! Take my advice and leave in a dignified manner before you manage to humiliate yourself in front of everyone…especially her.

Draco backed away, nearly stumbling over a chair in his haste. He could feel the bile rising in his throat as he watched Hermione squeal ecstatically and hug everyone around her with unbridled joy. Why hadn’t he ever noticed how perfect she was during the last seven years? All he’d ever seen was the frizzy, unkempt hair, her slightly larger than normal teeth, her blood status… So much time lost just because he’d blindly followed and upheld his father’s bullshit beliefs. Why did he have to fall in love with her now? Now, when she was probably flipping through the pages of their history and remembering all the foul things he’d ever said and done to her?

Leave her, Draco. You’ve done enough.

With the words “leave her” ringing loudly in his ears, Draco turned away to break off from the crowd when he felt a hand on his shoulder. Keeping his stare locked on the floor as he pivoted to meet the owner of the hand, he mumbled haltingly, “Yeah? What is it?”

“You don’t really think I’m going to let you walk away, do you?”

Draco’s heart stopped. He slowly lifted his head and found himself facing a red-eyed Hermione.

“Why are you trying to leave, Draco?” she asked softly.

Draco nervously licked his lips, aware of how everyone was watching him and Hermione both silently and intently. “You remember everything now, Hermione.” It nearly killed him to say her name for perhaps one of the final times. “You now know everything about me. Nothing’s going to change from before.”

She took a deep breath and clutched at the front of his shirt. “You idiot. You promise to never leave me, and this is how you fulfill your promise? By deserting me?”

Draco wanted so badly to believe what he hoped she was saying, but he decided to take up masochism and ruin his own dreams. “Hermione, I’m Draco Malfoy. The boy who called you a ‘mudblood’ over a thousand times, who once said that he wished the basilisk would kill you, who left your best friend petrified and with a broken nose on the train…”

“So what do you want me to do,” Hermione asked fiercely, sounding close to tears. “Slap you here in front of everyone, tell you I hate you, and walk all over your heart to leave you here, trampled and destroyed?”

“It’s what I deserve,” he answered miserably, unable to look into her eyes any longer. This was it, this was where she would drop her hands and step away, forever renouncing whatever kind of infatuation she had for him. It was all going to be over in a matter of seconds. For the first time, Draco thought that maybe loving someone was worse than never having loved at all.

Instead, Hermione jerked down on his shirt, causing him to fall on top of her, yet somehow land with his lips on hers. She kissed him hard, doing things with her mouth that Draco had never known someone to do before. Her fingers buried themselves in his messy, uncombed hair, and he unthinkingly pushed her head up with his hands to give her neck support. Suddenly, he recalled her wounds and reluctantly extracted himself from her hold.

As if she’d read his mind, she growled, “To hell with the curse.” Then she leaned over to kiss him, this time very gently and sweetly. When she finished, she gazed into his silver eyes and said firmly, “You deserve me, Draco. And don’t even bother arguing. You and I are meant for each other, and you damn well know it!”

Somewhere far off in the corner of the universe, Blaise, Harry, Ron, and a few others began laughing from shock and incredulity, but Draco had no time to deal with them. Now he only had eyes for the girl – no - woman standing in front of him who had, beyond a shadow of a doubt, brought all the meaning and purpose back into what he was prepared to deem the most pathetic existence in the history of mankind.

“Draco?” Hermione said, smiling and prodding him with her finger. “I don’t know if I mentioned this or not, but I love you.”

Draco’s grin stretched from ear to ear as he leaped forward, wrapped his arms around Hermione’s waist, lifted her up, and jubilantly swung her around. After he set her down, he brushed his lips against hers and said, “You know something, Hermione Granger? I think I love you, too.”

They locked lips again, engaging in a stormy battle of passion play.

“They really enjoy doing that, don’t they?” Blaise chuckled as he watched his best friend completely drop all defenses and overpower Hermione.

Ginny grabbed Blaise and hummed suggestively, “How about it, Zabini? Care to try what they’re doing?”

“With pleasure,” Blaise growled as he grabbed the redhead and made out with her next to a very uncomfortable-looking Professor Snape.

And then, for the third time that afternoon, Draco and Hermione separated, both breathing heavily and lost in one another’s eyes. Hermione was still wrapped in her body bandages, her hair mussed, and part of her head still covered in the thin bandage for her forehead. She had a few scrapes on one cheek, and her brown eyes were abnormally shiny. She was wearing the incredibly unfashionable hospital wing bottoms (a grotesque, sickly green), and there was absolutely no makeup anywhere on her face.

Draco was convinced he had never seen anything so perfect.

They stayed there, unspeaking and simply grinning sappily at each other, when Hermione giggled and came close to him yet again. “I don’t think I could ever get tired of this.”

Draco smirked at her and stepped forward. “Well, then,” he murmured seductively. “I don’t see why we can’t continue.”

She closed her eyes and inclined her head towards him, but just before his lips met her irresistibly swollen ones, she opened her eyes and said, “Draco?”

“Hmm, yes?”

“Could you do me a favor?”

He quirked an eyebrow at her, waiting to hear what she’d demand.

“Do you mind if I borrow that Linda’s Lip Lover thing?”

Draco’s laugh rumbled all the way through her body as they stood entwined, dragon and lioness, the Slytherin Prince and the Gryffindor Princess - together, as one flawless entity.

…because some things are just meant to be.