Sunday, February 14, 2010

The White Mostrosity Written by - I want

EASTER CHALLENGE ENTRY



The White Mostrosity



Written by - I want


You can find them here! - http://www.fanfiction.net/u/1956226/I_want


>>>>>



The White Monstrosity


Hermione Granger stood at the entrance, a parcel clutched in one hand and the other poised at the knocker of the formidable oaken doors. Why was she doing this again? Oh yeah, apart from it being her job, she really wanted to see him make a fool of himself. So with that thought, she took a deep breath and let the serpent head – how clichéd - of the knocker bang loudly against the door. What she didn’t expect was for him to actually answer it.


Draco Malfoy opened the doors of the manor and his jaw almost dropped – almost - but he was a Malfoy so he restrained himself. You see, he wasn’t expecting her – well, he knew she was coming – to look like that. It was completely disconcerting and he felt like all his resolve was melting as she stood in the morning sunlight with her brown curls wild and untamed, dressed in a ridiculously attractive, yellow sundress. Sundresses, it seemed – on her at least – would be the death of him. He’d been slowly working up the nerve to ask her out ever since they’d both started working as healers at St. Mungo’s and today was going to be the day everything came together. Damn him for falling for her! Damn her and that sundress! But still, she looked so breathtakingly lovely.


She couldn’t figure out why he was looking at her like that. It made her nervous and these odd tingles would erupt down her spine every time she looked at him for too long. They had an event to host and nothing was going to mess it up. Not being at the manor, not Malfoy, and certainly not the way she felt whenever he was around. Trying to rid the atmosphere of the awkwardness, she tried for some of her old frigidity towards him and failed, miserably.


“Are you going to stand there gaping or let me in Malfoy?”


A small smirk played on her lips which he noticed were a very alluring shade of pink and he found himself fantasizing about their softness. He shook his head slightly, marginally clearing the fog in his brain, before making a sweeping motion with his hands and moving aside. “Welcome Granger, the garden awaits you.” He still couldn’t believe he’d agreed to host the St. Mungo’s Easter Benefit at Malfoy Manor – the gardens to be more precise. But then again, it was a children’s benefit and they were having an – what did she call it? – Easter egg hunt. He was confused but agreed to her request because, hey, he sort of felt something for the girl. Tearing his eyes away from the dress that seemed to enhance her very exquisite attributes, he noticed the somewhat guarded expression on her face.


“Malfoy, there’s something I’d like from you.”


The most amazing snog of your life?


She continued on, oblivious to the inner ramblings in his completely testosterone addled brain.


“If you do this one thing, I’ll do anything you ask. Just know that everyone backed out and you were the only remaining option. Don’t be upset but…” then she removed her hands from behind her back, revealing an odd, fluffy and white ensemble that oddly resembled – dare he say it – a giant rabbit, that’d been skinned and cleaned. He grimaced outwardly and she looked crestfallen.


“Why in Merlin’s name have you brought that?” Draco hoped she wasn’t some kind of freak that liked to – well he wasn’t sure what, but it would have to be freaky if it involved that. Just what was it exactly? Furthermore, did he want to know? Yes, yes he did -only if it was because he’d heard her say that she’d do anything he asked. He was beginning to think things would work in his favour. He still couldn’t repress the shudder as he looked at the white monstrosity she was holding in her dainty hands though.


Merlin, what was she doing? Asking Malfoy to wear the suit and pretend to be an Easter bunny? Was she completely barmy or had she inhaled too many smoke fumes from the bars Harry and Ron dragged her to every Friday? Or maybe she just got some twisted pleasure from seeing him – Malfoy, that is – squirm. That seemed more probable.


This,” she said, putting extra emphasis on the offending garment, “is a costume. You’re supposed to be the Easter Bunny. It’s a character that basically gives gifts to children. I’d like for you to wear the costume and distribute the presents and prizes and whatnot. You won’t even have to wear it for the entire day, just about two hours and even then, no one will ever know it’s you. Please?” She was barking mad. Begging? Seriously?


Draco was adamantly telling himself no, he wouldn’t do it, no matter how attractive she looked in the sunlight or how soft her hair seemed to look. No, he wouldn’t do it for anyone. But then she was looking at him with those big, brown doe eyes of hers and a slight pout on her lips. Draco. Just. Couldn’t. Say. No. The word wasn’t even part of his vocabulary just then as he found himself nodding his acquiescence mutely and then she was in his arms. Quite literally too.


He stumbled back slightly at the sudden force and found her arms wrapped around his torso to be quite welcoming. It was a sensory overload, and everything he’d ever wanted. Her hair smelled of the faintest lavender, her milky skin satiny smooth and that dress! Oh, that yellow dress! She smelled like heaven, and oddly enough, home. It took all of his will power just then to not cup her face and snog her senseless, regardless of the guests that would soon be pouring in.


Hermione didn’t know what possessed her to hug Malfoy the way she was – it was far too intimate for the relationship they shared. She found that she rather liked his wide frame and warm body. He didn’t smell atrociously either, and it would be a welcome change to all the men she’d dated that seemed to forego hygiene and bask in eau de musk. Utterly repulsive. She could just feel the scratch of stubble as his chin brushed her forehead and the tingles – more like shivers – erupted, causing her to break out in gooseflesh everywhere his hands seemed to be holding her. What was going on? She couldn’t possibly – okay, she did. She liked him more than she ever cared to admit but right now, she wanted to believe that he liked her too. She pulled away, too quickly for her liking and thrust the suit into his now empty hands. She saw the ghost of a grimace on his face before he accepted the thing and retreated to get ready.


~O~O~O~O~


The egg hunt was actually quite amusing and seeing Draco a few times in the costume had caused her to enjoy the event considerably. He was due to emerge as himself soon so Hermione decided to venture further into the gardens, most of the guests already leaving. She rounded a corner and ran smack into the mass of fur that was Draco Malfoy’s costume. She’d have fallen on her behind were it not for his reflexes and firm grasp. Glancing at him, she realized he’d long since abandoned the head of the rabbit and was parading in the body of the suit. The only thing Malfoy-like was his head.


“Watch out there Granger. Wouldn’t want to fall and hurt yourself.” He chuckled slightly, almost nervously.


“What are you doing in here?” she gestured and came to the realization that she ventured into a maze of sorts. “The guests are almost all gone. You’re not hiding are you?”


“Gods no! I’m just thinking.” This was it, he had to tell her. It was why he’d done this in the first place. Everything was for her and she didn’t even know. He took a step toward her, slowly, testing the waters, and she stepped back, unsure of herself.


“Thinking of what?” Hermione’s senses were heightened as Malfoy inched closer to her. What was he doing? She couldn’t lose her train of thought now. She had to get him to talk. Why? She wasn’t sure either.


“You. What I want. Lots of things really, but those two spring to mind the most.” He smirked then and knew she was getting uncomfortable. He took another step closer, effectively pushing her against the green shrubbery of the would-be maze. He looked into her eyes, a swirl of caramel and chocolate and found himself speaking the words he could never bring himself to admit. It all came at him in an onslaught of emotion really. Like a never-ending spew of sick. Maybe even a train-wreck. You know; something that was almost surely going to end in disaster and you couldn’t help but look anyway? Yeah, like that.


Okay, he was effectively making her nervous, bothered and fidgety. She couldn’t think straight with his scent invading her senses and robbing her of all her brain function. That was feat in itself. She just wanted to kiss him, feel him, something! Then he was speaking in a low voice that had her melting like ice-cream on a hot, summer’s day.


“You’re the one I want. The only one.” he swallowed thickly, the rush of emotions too much for him to handle, but still he spoke. “Quite possibly for sometime now. I’ve been trying to ask you out for the longest while but there was always something getting in the way. Our animosity, your boyfriends. But some of that changed and for a while, I was content with just being your friend, but I realized, I wanted more. I wanted to see you more, to talk to you, and be the one you smiled at, the one to make you laugh. I want to be next to you, to feel you, to kiss you, to be … mine.”


He was still staring at her intently, and she found it hard to tear her eyes away from his piercing gaze. He was open and vulnerable and Merlin help her if she didn’t feel that way too. How odd was it that he was the one to say everything that she was feeling? It was as though they’d already had a connection. They were friends after all and if what he’d said was true, then why’d he wait for so long? They’d become sociable within the first year of working at St. Mungo’s. That was almost three years ago. Surely he didn’t think that excuse was going to work? Who’d have thought that Draco Malfoy would be pining after this bookworm so ardently and for so long? And that she would reciprocate?


“You stupid prat!” was all she’d said before pressing her lips to his and kissing him the way she’d imagined for so long. Draco responded to the kiss with equal fervour, his hands snaking around her waist and tangling in her hair, their warm mouths speaking promises they couldn’t quite say. Yes, everything was turning out just fine and it didn’t bother him in the least that he was wearing this white monstrosity. It was for her, after all.


“Happy Easter, Granger.” He smiled beatifically before giving her the most amazing snog of her life.

Thursday, February 11, 2010

World Enough and Time Written by- FicklePen

World Enough and Time


Written by- FicklePen


You can find them here - http://www.fanfiction.net/u/961154/


One Shot


He thinks she’s like the roots, holding him down, holding him steady. DMHG.

Harry Potter - Rated: M - English - Romance - Chapters: 1 - Words: 1,215 - Reviews: 26 - Draco M. & Hermione G. - Complete


>>>>>



Title: World Enough and Time.

Author: Ficklepen

Rating: M

Author’s Note: Another attempt at a one-shot featuring vignettes of Draco and Hermione!

Summary: He thinks she’s like the roots, holding him down, holding him steady.

Disclaimer: .Poor. Please don’t sue; we all know JK Rowling owns Harry Potter. We all know she created a disaster with the RHr ship. Beware – I have grenades, and I am not afraid to bomb that ship.

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World Enough and Time.

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i). The Quality of Nature or It’s Dangerous Hugging Trees.

There’s a wild tree by her cottage.

It’s a good tree. A strong, steady, sturdy tree.

The first time she had invited him to her home, he looked at that tree and knew – knew that he would love her for the rest of his life. Just like that. There were no fireworks, no blinding white light, no nirvana-like, ‘om-shanti-shanti’ epiphany. It was there, like the sun dawning on a new day, it was constant and beautiful, and nothing less than perfection.

He just knew.

And he got all this from a great, big, bloody tree.

He didn’t tell her at the time, as he stood on her doorstep, and waited for her to lower the wards. They’d only just had their sixth date, and he didn’t want to scare her off by declaring his love for her and her tree.

Could a person fall in love with a tree?

He wasn’t too sure if he wanted to be a tree-hugger, but hey, if a wizard could hump a goat and get away with it, then he could damn well hug a tree without recrimination!

He’d have to thank it later.

Knowing him and his abysmal luck, he’d probably send her running off the nearest cliff if he told her – or worse – she might have hexed his manly bits, and he needed those to wank and procreate with, thank-you-very-much.

So he didn’t say anything.

Instead, he followed her into the dimly lit Tudor cottage, and managed to suavely persuade her to let him shag her silly.

She had no less than four earth-shattering orgasms, and he could safely say that if all else failed, and she didn’t fall in love with him, he would just have to lick her clit until she did. It wouldn’t have been a difficult feat. He could do some very wicked things with his tongue; it wasn’t just used for wittily insulting reckless Gryffindors, and making pathetic Longbottom-esque figures cry, you know.

So there it was.

He loved his bushy-headed, spewing, doe-eyed Granger, just like he loved her stupid tree. Because she was the roots to his tree. She held him up – come rain or shine – she supported him, and fed him life.

Everything was so much more simple, knowing that she was there.

ii). The Collision of Souls or I Dream of Snakes.

He liked the way her lip curled when she saw him naked.

It wasn’t a sneer, it wasn’t disdain; he had nothing to fear when she curled her lip. Because he knew what it meant. It meant that she was on the verge of pouncing.

He’d never have known there was such a dominatrix, behind that bookish exterior.

It was hot. Too hot.

Really, fucking sexy.

A bit scary too, but that’s ok. He could handle it. He was a Slytherin, after all.

He was Slytherin enough to know that the gleam in her eyes kept him anchored to the present. You wouldn’t believe it, looking at him now, but he used to have trouble with his past. The nightmares were the worst. Red eyes and massive snakes. Whimpers of please; Him. And screams; Hers.

But somehow, in this cosmic joke of a world, he’d managed to earn her forgiveness. And he’d earned enough of her love.

She allowed their souls to collide, and he was happy to mesh them together, until they were indistinguishable.

“Marry me.”

he said.

Because he knew she would.

“Yes.”

she said.

Because she knew he loved her. They’d collided, and it was magnificent.

iii). The Steady World or Roots Glorious Roots.

Draco Lucius Abraxas Malfooooy!”

“I think you’ve reached a new pitch, love. That’s got to be one for the record books.”

Grr. How could you?!”

“Er… I didn’t do it.”

“Don’t lie.”

“I have no idea what you’re shrieking about, my luscious harridan.”

“Shrieking? I’m not shrieking, I’m furious! And don’t call me that.”

“Shall I call you the sexy, gorgeous, mother-of-the-fruit-of-my-loins, then?”

“You think I’m..? Ack, no! It won’t work, Draco.”

“Worked last time.”

“Well it won’t happen again, and you can stop waggling your eyebrows at me.”

“Thought I’d give it a shot before you rip me a new one.”

“You gave our child, our child, three bars of Honeyduke’s chocolate!”

“She was hungry, so soot me.”

“It’s shoot, and how can she be hungry right after dinner? It’s bed time, and she’s still bouncing off the walls. Literally! I had to put cushioning charms on everything in her room,”

“She gave me The Look.”

“What look?”

“You know; The Look.”

“You’ve totally lost me.”

“The one where her eyes get all gooey, and round, and doe-like! It’s like she memorised it off that Muggle movie!”

“…?”

“That cat with shoes.”

“Puss-In-Boots?”

“Yes!”

“From the Shrek movie?”

“Yes!!”

“You mean to tell me, that our five-year old daughter copied that look, and that’s how she managed to wrangle chocolate from you?”

“YES!”

“You do realise that she’s manipulated you, don’t you?”

“I do.”

“And you don’t have a problem with that?”

“Not at all, my bushy wife. She’s training to become the consummate Slytherin.”

“Ah…”

“So… Any chance of a quickie?”

“Draco!”

“What? She’s probably still bouncing off the furniture, and I’d say we’ve got a good twenty minutes of snake-lovin’ fun.”

“I don’t think – ”

“ – Come on, root. Don’t make me beg. You know I’m rubbish at it.”

“I’ll never understand why you insist on calling me that wretched name.”

“Root?”

“Yes...”

“It’s because you are. The roots to me.”

-sniff-

“Oh, fucking hell, don’t start crying!

“…”

“Oi, you stop that right now!”

“…”

“Granger, stop giving me The Look! … Oh, just come here, you mushy pea.”

-squish-

iv). The Sunset of Winter or Death to Wrinkles and Grey Hair.

She’s crying.

He hates it when she cries, so he asks her why.

“I’ve got another grey hair!”

He hides his smile, his eyes crinkling with a set of crows-feet that she loves, and kisses, every night before bed.

She’s on the verge of a break-down, and he can’t help thinking that she’s adorable when she panics.

But he won’t let her.

He takes the brush from her hand, and examines it with a serious air. “I don’t see any grey, root.”

“It’s there!” she insists. And she’s snatching it back before he can argue.

He waits.

“But… I could’ve sworn it was there!”

“Probably just the wrong angle of the light.”

“Hmm…” She eyes the brush with distrust, as if it would grow more grey hair if she looks away.

She’s still busy when he opens his hand behind his back, and shakes away the single strand of grey that was clinging to his palm.

It falls to the cream carpet, invisible, so that she can be young again.

Mission accomplished, he leans forward and captures her lips in a melting kiss.

They are both young at heart.

Fin.

The Simplicity of Being Written by- FicklePen

The Simplicity of Being


Written by- FicklePen


You can find them here! - http://www.fanfiction.net/u/961154/


One Shot


She came to him silently, as always, and he let her. DMHG. Complete.

Harry Potter - Rated: M - English - Romance - Chapters: 1 - Words: 2,140 - Reviews: 18 - Draco M. & Hermione G. - Complete



>>>>>


Title: The Simplicity of Being.
Author/Artist: Ficklepen a.k.a. pentrue

Rating: M

Disclaimer: I don’t own anything, apart from my insatiable need for more DHr in canon. Oh, JK, how could you crush so many dreams?

AN: These are a series of vignettes that can be taken as one story, or separately, so it’s up to you. I’m getting back into rhythm of writing once again, so if there any errors, forgive me. Enjoy!!

Summary: The simplest thing in life is to let go. So he lets go

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The Simplicity of Being.

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i). Divine Light

She came to him silently, as always, and he let her.

He let her because he couldn’t seem to say no. From the very first time she had come to him, seeking to feel, to forget, and he’d never been able to turn her away. It was different. Not what he had expected.

The war had changed things, as all wars do. Opinions meant nothing, and old school rivalries were lost somewhere between the blood and the screams, and the stomach-churning fear, vibrating with the realisation that they were all just children, pretending to be adults, and fighting wars they had no business fighting. He wondered if he would ever forgive his parents for the role he had been forced to play.

The person that invented ‘wars’ must have a right old cock-sucker. Probably too busy with world domination, that no woman in their right mind would have willingly shagged the bastard. No wonder he had to find other outlets.

Still, it didn’t explain the situation he was in at the moment.

Or perhaps it was Draco’s own fault for allowing this.

Because, here, in this solitary room with her, there was no sense of up or down, right and wrong, good or bad; just a simple form of mind-numbing pleasure that enveloped his body, from the tips of his manly toes, to the top of his cherub-blond head. If the invisible chemistry between bodies could be seen, they would have glowed and shone as brightly and as hazily as the sun, illuminating all the shadows within their reach so they fizzled out and left nothing but tiny, almost-invisible-but-not-quite, dust particles.

They would have been tethered together by that light, like an endless piece of string, crossing the empty divide between her heart to his; in that moment, with their bodies connecting, there was a sense of calm between them. It was fire feeding fire, water smoothing rocks into round pebbles that reminded him of the Moon, or a jade forest made entirely of bamboo.

Stillness.

He knew that if this ended, one day, someday, she would unravel him, taking all his essential bits with her.

Occasionally, the things she did made him wonder if he had her heart.

He didn’t know why that hurt him.

It just did.

So he ignored it, and he let her ride him brutally - so brutally, that he couldn’t quite seem to catch his breath. It was painful, it was glorious, and it seemed as if it would never end. He never ever wanted it to end. But before he could find purchase to his own completion, she had already sought and gained hers, highlighted by her pleasured cry echoing around him like a deadly siren’s call.

Trapped inside the tranquillity that followed her climax, he watched her with hooded, steel-tinted eyes, willing her to keep moving because he was close. He was so damn close. And yet, as he watched her with her head tossed back, her luscious, peachy lips parted, and her bushy brown curls that grazed the tops of his thighs, he knew that he had touched upon something divine.

Touched, yet untouchable.

She was Divinity and she was Grace - beyond anything that he ever could have imagined. That single vision alone had made her beautiful to him. So painfully, heart-in-the-mouth, I-could-kick-myself, beautiful.

But the moment didn’t last.

It never seemed to last.

As he expected, she rose up and away from him to gather her torn and discarded clothes. She seemed indifferent, or perhaps oblivious, to the hurt expression that briefly flickered in his eyes. An expression that he couldn’t help but display, as she left him cold and hard, panting desperately for the slightest bit of oxygen that seemed non-existent, now that she had left him on his own – on his own to seek out a blissful oblivion that now appeared unattainable to him.

His entire body ached for relief – a relief that was only granted to him by his own hand, because she would never deign to offer it herself.

He supposed he was a glutton for punishment, as this was now the fourth time she had left him dissatisfied.

Staring at the ceiling, he gripped his cock and set to work, imagining that she was still riding him. It took him less than thirty seconds to come in his hand, grunting like an untried, virgin school-boy.

Wiping his hand on the stained sheet, he observed her dispassionate movements, and he knew. He knew that that was all he was to her. A body. Somebody who was there to please her, pound her, fuck her, until she forgot her own name – until she forgot who he was, who they were, and whatever the hell they were doing.

He was hers – completely, indefinitely.

But she would never be his.

Oddly enough, he didn’t care.

ii). Judging Books

What is this?”

She stood in front of him, hands on her hips, and her blazing eyes firmly planted on the book she had just put carefully in front of him. Even when she was angry, she would never dream of harming a book.

The stray thought caused an odd tickle at the base of his stomach.

“You’re slipping, Granger,’ he drawled cockily. “It’s a book, if you must know.”

Draco crossed his arms, resisting the urge to swivel in his chair. Who would have thought that Draco Malfoy would end up in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement? Surely his ancestors would be thoroughly disgusted, and more than ready to rise from their graves to teach him a sound lesson. Lesson 121; A Malfoy never works for their daily bread.

He was rudely brought back to the present at the sound of her fist connecting with his desk.

Huffing with impatience, she glared at him balefully and spoke through gritted teeth, making Draco want to grin with triumph, like a kneazle who got the cream.

“I know it’s a book, you ferrety bastard, but how did an ancient Hindu, Sanskrit text, end up in my cabin? The Kama Sutra, no less!”

“I thought you could use it to brush up on your skills,” he retorted quietly.

“There will be no brushing up, Malfoy,” she glowered. “Have you any idea how mortifying it was to explain this away? Poor Neville nearly had an aneurism when he saw the cover!”

Anything that made Longbottom drop dead with embarrassment, was a bonus in Draco’s opinion. The little toad had been ogling his shagging partner for far too long. It was about time that he made this little fling between them public.

Ignoring her rants, Draco wiggled his eyebrows. “Does that mean you like it?”

He held back an amused snort as she blushed, her face glowing brightly.

“W-well, that’s… hardly… It’s neither here nor there! It’s just not acceptable.” She stared at him defiantly.

Merlin, that little head-tilt was wreaking havoc on his nether regions.

“Why not, Granger?” Draco frowned as she lowered her eyes.

“Because it’s inexcusable to send something like that so publicly. You know very well that our arrangement was never to be acknowledged outside of that room.”

He felt a flash of irritation, and a tiny part of him deflated. “Those were conditional terms.”

“What do you mean?” She seemed alarmed.

Good.

“It means that at any time, we can choose to revise them.” Draco felt no triumph as he watched her face blanche. “And I choose to want more. If that means a public declaration, then so be it.”

“You wouldn’t,” she whispered fearfully.

“Wouldn’t I?”

“But, my friends –”

“ – Your friends couldn’t give a flying fuck who you shagged.”

“Keep your voice down,” she hissed.

Draco stood swiftly, eyes flashing dangerously. “Make me.”

He could clearly see that she was seething. “Why, you arrogant, selfish, conceited–”

“– Oh sing me a new one –”

“–little bastard! I ought to string your twitchy arse up, and use you as a human piñata,” her chest heaved, but the fight seemed to have left her, for the moment. “Why are you doing this? To humiliate me; is that it?”

Draco was stunned. And not a little hurt.

He shook his head and slumped back into his chair. “Just, take the book and get out, Granger.” He sounded tired, even to himself. She hesitated, surprised by his sudden capitulation. Unsure of this new side to him, she picked up the book with shaking hands, and left.

iii). Tick, Tock

He was pounding into her from behind.

His entire body felt like a lit fuse, edging closer and closer to the bomb that wanted to explode inside of him. He was almost there. Almost there, almost there, almostherealmosthere

Before he could, she shattered around him with a keening wail, breathless and twitching, but still accepting his erratic thrusts into her trembling quim. And with each pulse around him, he was drawing ever closer to completion.

She tried to stop him before he could, as she moved to leave the bed. But he desperately clutched at her hips like a drowning man, not allowing her the choice of moving away before he could release the tension that had built up inside of him. It had been so long.

Although she struggled to pull away, it seemed half-hearted. And the moment she stopped fighting him, mentally, emotionally, physically, he came deep inside of her, grinding his pelvis against the cheeks of her pert bottom; it was like stars bursting beneath his eyelids, his warmth flowing from him to her. A secret gift that no one could see, but one they would both know he had given, and she accepted.

Bending over, he groaned into her ear as he covered her damp back with his torso, his fingers stretching out to clasp hers, like sentient vines. She squeezed them in return, and he knew joy.

It was the first time he had spent himself inside her, so he refused to allow her to make another hasty exit. Instead, he slipped out with a silent plop, and turned her over to settle himself within the cradle of her thighs, just barely catching a glimpse of his creamy seed seeping out from her swollen nether lips.

It was enough.

With his forearms stretched out by her head, he silently looked down at her apprehensive face.

And she spoke for the first time, quietly, reproaching. “You shouldn’t have done that.”

She was so solemn, her tawny eyes rounder than any wheel created for man-kind.

“Why?”

“Because now, I’ll never be able to let you go.”

And it was like the heavens had opened, drenching him, with her words, and her supple, sweaty skin that stuck to his. She soaked him with her wide eyes, and moist pouting lips, and there was peace. There was triumph.

He didn’t need to reply. Didn’t want to reply.

Instead, he leaned down and kissed her. For the first time.

iv). Sneak-o-snake

“You did that on purpose, didn’t you?”

“Did what?”

“Don’t be obtuse, Malfoy.”

“What does that mean, anyway? How the fuck can a person be obtuse? I’m not a bloody triangle.”

“Stop ignoring me!”

“… Fine.”

“So?

“What ‘so’?”

“Argh! You’re really starting to annoy me now.”

“You always annoy me.”

“Why did you hex poor Neville? Tell me!”

“I don’t need a reason to inflate Longbottom’s arse.”

“He was stuck to the ceiling for over an hour!”

“Oh, boohoo, Granger, I’m so remorseful.”

“…”

“It’s not my fault the idiot can’t even manage an anti-inflation charm!”

“…”

“And so what if his arse is a bit saggy now. He needed to lose some weight. I did him a favour, really.”

“You are incorrigible… and – and sneaky, and just plain mean!”

“Slytherin.”

“It was bad form, and you know it.”

“Well, he shouldn’t have looked down your top.”

“… So, does that mean you were defending my honour?”

“If it helps you sleep at night.”

“Aw, Malfoy.”

“You forgive me?”

“…”

“What are you – hmpf!… Oh. OhFuck, Granger!”

giggle

v). Edge

He was there, on the edge, and waiting to jump.

It was such a long way to fall, and if she didn’t catch him, he knew he’d never let go again. There wouldn’t be anything of him left to let go.

All he needed to do was take that first step off the edge.

So he did.

“I love you.”

And she was there. With him.

Fin.

Glad Day Written by - FicklePen

Glad Day


Written by - FicklePen


You can find them here! - http://www.fanfiction.net/u/961154/


One Shot


“If I survive,” he drawled suddenly, pulling her back from her musing, “I want you here in this room naked and waiting for me in that bed.” She looked at the large double bed he was pointing to behind him.[HGDM.]

Harry Potter - Rated: T - English - Romance/Angst - Chapters: 1 - Words: 2,031 - Reviews: 19 - Draco M. & Hermione G. - Complete


>>>>>



Author's Note: Became an infinitely huge Harry Potter fan only recently and found myself wishing that Draco and Hermione would fall for one another; luckily for fanfiction, I can make that happen! - evil grin - :) Reviews are welcome, as is concrit. So please, sit back and enjoy this tale of forbidden love.

-

Title: Glad Day.

Rating: T

Warning: Brooding story with a hint of hope.

Summary: He was a Death Eater and she was an Auror. . . But their love transcended all boundaries. A deeper look into an unfathomable relationship. Hermione x Draco.

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, that honour belongs to JK Rowling. BUT if I did, I would make it a priority for Hermione and Draco to madly in love... Le sigh. Lyrics at the end also don't belong to me - obviously :)



o 0 o

o

o 0 o Glad Day o 0 o

By FicklePen.

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o 0 o



“It's tomorrow.”

Twin gems of hazel scoured the darkening horizon, giving no indication of hearing the deep tenor that spoke at her elbow. “A glad day.” She smiled softly at her words; sadly. “This is it, isn't it?”

“It is,” he murmured.

“The final battle.” A heavy sigh fell from her lips as she turned to face the man standing beside her at the open window of their place. Their private, secluded, secret place.

If anyone was to find out that they were here, together. . . It would be both their heads in the hangman's noose. But such was the plight of the forbidden. How could something so pure as the love between two people, be denied? The concept was utterly ridiculous and yet. . . They would meet tomorrow at the battlefield, on opposing sides. They would meet as enemies but whilst she fought for the Light, he - he would turn against his own kind and fight for her. For them.

It was wrong that he despised everything that her blood stood for, but she knew that he would fight for her tomorrow because that was the danger of love. Once it began, it grew to encompass all things; once he began to care for her, he would ultimately begin to care for everything around him. Love was funny like that. It was a pity he didn't seem to realise that. As it was a pity that her love for him equalled her hate of what he had been.

Countless wizards and witches were dead because of him, before he had come to her, before he had begun that long dark journey down redemption's road. She loved him for who he was and not what he had done in the past, but that love wasn't enough to absolve his sins. So perhaps. . . Perhaps tomorrow would be the day that he could reclaim and redeem himself. Perhaps.

She stood back and studied him, taking in his weary countenance and the limp but exuberant shock of silvery blond hair that framed his face. Gods, she loved his hair. It was an entity unto itself.

His calm and regal expression gave no indication of the flustering sensation caused by Apparating. There was never a time she had seen him look unruffled in the recent years gone by. It seemed as if every emotion that could linger upon his face had slipped to the ground and shattered like fragile glass. It rendered him numb towards outside gestures, but she knew better. Though there was nothing on the surface, it hardly bothered her, for she knew that a wealth of emotion lay hidden beneath the fortress of his stoic, pale features. And when those grey eyes encompassed hers, they spoke more than a thousand words could ever convey.

“If I survive,” he drawled suddenly, pulling her back from her musing, “I want you here in this room; naked and waiting for me in that bed.” She looked at the large double bed he was pointing to behind him.

Though she was indignant at his cave-man mentality, she almost grinned at the sight of his lip curving upward in amusement. Not much amused him these days but she was glad to see it. It gave her hope. “How romantic,” she snarled huffily, folding her arms.

He snorted and before she could protest, he had pulled her close and trapped her within his long, lean arms to brush a delicate kiss against her temple. “I am anything but romantic, Granger. You know that.”

The amusement from his words fled as he observed her own haggard appearance. Without another word, he swept her up and carried her to the unmade bed, laying her down without preamble, without a word.

She frowned and sat up as she caught him watching her strangely. “What is it?” Her voice quivered, a deep sense of foreboding creeping down her spine.

He held back a sigh.

How could he tell her? Nothing could have prepared him for the words he was about to utter, because he knew that to say them to her would be undeniably stupid and irrevocably damaging. But still, he had to. It was in his very bones to tell her truth; to speak of his wishes.

He sat beside her and found that she was staring at him for the longest time, her hazel eyes like bottomless wells of still sadness. Had her eyes always held that deep, almost immeasurable sink of mourning? She looked so remarkably different from the young vivacious woman that had left Hogwarts three years prior.

He drew his gaze away forcibly and observed their surroundings. The amber rays of the sun that currently painted the room, diminished to a ruby red glow as it slowly sunk behind the snowy mountain tops. The French villa they were residing in, cocooned them from the outside world and secreted them away from where they truly were; unplottable, untraceable.

But on this night, they couldn't hide what they were to one another. They couldn't hide the truth that she was an Auror and he, a cursed Death Eater. Regardless that he was now a spy for the Order, he had once willingly joined the Dark Wizard's ranks and that would always remain as a barrier between them. Whether she acknowledged it or not.

Silver moonbeam eyes sought her face once more and he regarded her silently. At this moment, even she could not hide her true feelings.

Within her eyes, there was no denying the black, boiling hatred for what he had been, entwined with selfless, soul-deep love. Pain, degradation and horror swayed hand in hand with a sighing girl-child's heart that leapt for joy at the mere sight of his face and the thought of his touch. It was all inextricably woven, heart-breaking love and thunderous hatred - and he had earned every ounce of both.

Yes, it was clear that she hated him as much as she loved him. Through her steely gaze he caught a flicker of that hatred, of that infinite love. And he saw the world repainted through her eyes. He saw the monster he had been and he saw the man he was now.

A life-time of sorrow and regret could not erase the deeds he had done, the people he had murdered. But it was a testimony to her goodness that the depth and breadth of her heart - her beautiful, pure heart - could reach across the chasm he had dug between them. . . Reach across the hatred, and embrace the man he was desperately trying become.

He knew his next words would not be received well.

“I don't want you to fight tomorrow.” It was a command, because he still hadn't learnt how to make a request. As he predicted, storm-clouds brewed within the depths of her eyes.

“I beg your pardon?” Her voice was cold, frozen like a sheet of ice upon a bleak lake.

“I don't want you to fight tomorrow,” he repeated patiently, blandly.

And then, she did something unexpected.

He watched in awe as a pale tear rolled down the curved expanse of her bloodless cheek. A twinge echoed in his heart. It was another ladle into the endless ocean of tears she had shed because of him. He reached out and wiped the offending tear away almost reverently. “Promise me, Hermione. Promise me that you won't fight?” He was deadly serious. He never said her name unless he was upset.

Hermione saw that it took every ounce of conviction for him say those words. And it only hardened her heart further. She swallowed, unable to dislodge the tight ball in her throat. “I can't — ”

“—No!” Draco interrupted savagely, gripping her chin. “It won't be like the other battles. The Dark Lord himself will be there and your acquaintance with Potter,” he spat the name with distaste, “will make you a target.”

“I'm not letting Harry fight without me!” She pushed his hand away. Her expression grew soft as he glared fearfully at her. “I'm not letting you fight without me.”

He blinked with resignation, reigning in the wayward emotions caused by his outburst. “If you fight tomorrow, I'm a dead man. I can't concentrate on the battle and protect you as well. You know I'm right.”

Hermione felt herself shutting down at his words and she knew what she had to do. “I can protect myself. But. . . I promise,” she mumbled roughly. “I promise, Draco.”

He looked at her shrewdly before blinking in disbelief at how easy it had been to persuade her.

It was a lie, of course, but he didn't know that. She simply didn't want to fight this night; their last night before fate and destiny would claim ownership of the battle tomorrow. What he did not know would not hurt him, and through his sagging shoulders, she could tell he was relieved by her acceptance. She almost snorted. He should know her better by now, but he was naive and frightened enough to take her words at face value simply because he wished to believe that she would keep her word.

“You promise?” He asked again, fumbling for confirmation.

She nodded slowly. “Yes, I promise.”

Draco closed his silver eyes and reached out for her.

Words were abandoned between them for the remainder of that night.

He drew her close and kissed her deeply, drinking the goodness from her lips like fine wine as he pinned her to the bed - beneath him, beneath his love. Eventually their clothes fell away, pooling onto the floor beside the bed. Heat suffused with skin and the temperature rose between their bodies like molten lava bubbling upwards in a volcano of passion and desire, of lust and unbreakable, unwavering love mingled with regret and palpable hatred.

They moved as one, frantically, desperately. . . And she smiled secretly as she gazed up at the dark ceiling beyond her lover's toned, flawlessly white shoulder. He would be angry when he found out. Terribly, frightfully angry. But she hoped that they would be able to laugh about this in the future. Laugh at her recklessness, at her head-strong ways, at her unwillingness to obey orders - his orders. She hoped, fervently, that tomorrow would bring the end of the darkness that consumed their lives.

Tomorrow would be a day of reckoning, and she would be there to witness their triumph - or their failure.

But none of that mattered right here, right at this very moment.

The pleasurable sensations within her grew as it always did when he touched her. The world fell away and nothing remained save for them; their bodies wound together like the tangled roots of a twin sapling, growing stronger by the minute. Their hearts twined like the gossamer strands of two silken spider webs meshed into one another, inseparable.

Yes. Tomorrow would be a glad day, a fine day.

She sighed, smiling like the sun dawning on a new day, as she trapped their one last perfect moment, suspending it in time like a summer flower caught in a crystal paperweight.

-

If all of the strength

And all of the courage


Come and lift me from this place,


I know I can love you much better than this.


Full of grace,
My love…

-Sarah Maclachlan.

-

-

-

Fin.

Prove It Written by - ren-san

Prove It


Written by - ren-san


You can find ren-san here! - http://www.fanfiction.net/u/765306/ren-san


COMPLETE! Hermione and Draco continue their secret sex affair. But what neither expect is that they fall for each other. Very graphic and lemony. Extreme bits of OOCness of characters. Don't like, then why are you reading it? Read and review!

Harry Potter - Rated: M - English - Romance - Chapters: 17 - Words: 17,057 - Reviews: 148 - Draco M. & Hermione G. - Complete



http://dramionefanfics.blogspot.com/2010/02/prove-it-chapter-one.html

http://dramionefanfics.blogspot.com/2010/02/prove-it-chapter-two.html


http://dramionefanfics.blogspot.com/2010/02/prove-it-chapter-three.html

http://dramionefanfics.blogspot.com/2010/02/prove-it-chapter-four.html


http://dramionefanfics.blogspot.com/2010/02/prove-it-chapter-five.html


http://dramionefanfics.blogspot.com/2010/02/prove-it-chapter-six.html

http://dramionefanfics.blogspot.com/2010/02/prove-it-chapter-seven.html


http://dramionefanfics.blogspot.com/2010/02/prove-it-chapter-eight.html


http://dramionefanfics.blogspot.com/2010/02/prove-it-chapter-ten.html


http://dramionefanfics.blogspot.com/2010/02/prove-it-chapter-eleven.html


http://dramionefanfics.blogspot.com/2010/02/prove-it-chapter-twelve.html


http://dramionefanfics.blogspot.com/2010/02/prove-it-chapter-thirteen.html


http://dramionefanfics.blogspot.com/2010/02/prove-it-chapter-fourteen.html


http://dramionefanfics.blogspot.com/2010/02/prove-it-chapter-fifteen.html

Prove It Chapter Fifteen

AN-So here it is. I must say, it’s been hell moving, I’m still without internet, I managed to sneak over to the library and upload this.

Disclaimer-Not mine.

Chapter 15 Goodbyes

Statics show that the man’s always the first to go. So if that’s true, why is Draco sitting here next to the bed that his wife of almost sixty-five years lay dying? He watched as their grandchildren and great-grandchildren came to say goodbye before their children came in.

“Tristan, take care of your father for me.” Hermione said, grasping her youngest son’s hand. He nodded, tears filling his eyes. She turned heard to Anita and Adair. “I’m so proud of all of you. You were the best things to ever happen to me.”

For the past year, Hermione had gotten sicker and weaker. The healer said that there were options, but Hermione just accepted that her time was coming and that her next adventure was waiting for her. Everyone filed out of the room, leaving Draco alone, holding her hand, unwilling to say goodbye.

“Don’t go yet,” He pleaded as her breathing grew irregular. No, she can’t go yet! Draco couldn’t be without her. He wasn’t ready for her to leave. Hermione forced her eyes open.

“I’ll wait for you. As long as it takes.” She whispered. Draco nodded and kissed her one last time, saying he loved her as Hermione’s eyes fluttered shut one last time and her breathing stopped. Draco stroked her silver hair that surrounded her like a halo and let a lone tear slide down his cheek.


It had been five years since Hermione had passed. It was hard on everyone, especially Draco who was surprised he made it a year without her let alone the five. Tristan would come over to visit him and walked him to her grave every Saturday.

Today, he turned eighty-nine. His children had thrown him a dinner party and he had met his great-great-granddaughter for the first time tonight, named after Hermione. She was a precious little baby, only four months old. His family had grown so big in a few short years, he noted as he looked around the crowded reception room that the party was held at.

A few of his and Hermione’s friends were present. Harry and his daughter Rosaline, who was the spitting image of Luna, were there. Ron and his wife, along with their five children. Neville had passed away just last year and his presence was greatly missed.

Draco tiredly dressed for bed, replaying the night over in his head, but grew frustrated with the buttons of his night shirt and called the house elf.

“Will master be requiring anything further?” The house elf asked in a squeaky voice as she helped Draco lay down.

“No, thank you. You can go off duty now.” The elf’s already wide eyes widened further as Draco dismissed it. He closed his eyes and quickly drifted to sleep fast.


When he opened his eyes, Draco wanted to slap himself to make sure he wasn’t dreaming. Before him was Hogwarts in all her glory in the setting sun, he hadn’t stepped foot on its grounds in fifty years, when Tristan graduated. He looked around and noticed he was in the carriages. As he stepped down off of it, he noticed something peculiar. He was dressed in royal purple robes; he was definitely not wearing those when he fell asleep. And then Draco noticed something even stranger. He lifted his hands for closer inspection and noted that his once wrinkled skin was now as smooth as it was when he was seventeen.

“I must be dreaming,” Draco mused aloud, strolling down the slopping bank to the birch tree by the lake, their tree. As he drew closer, he noticed a small crown gathered around the tree. He could see several of his old professors, his mother and Aunt Andromeda. Standing off to one side was a man who looked exactly like Harry with his arm around a red headed woman; he could only assume it was Harry’s parents. And that’s when he saw his angel, the thing that assured him he wasn’t dreaming.

Hermione was standing under the shade of the tree, wearing a white sundress. She beamed up at him as he reached her and wrapped her securely in his arms. “What took you so long?”

“I’m sorry I keep you waiting,” He murmured, picking her up with ease and kissing her deeply. Faintly, he could hear applause, but he didn’t pay it any mind. He was with Hermione again…forever.

Prove It Chapter Fourteen

Disclaimer-I don’t own Harry Potter.

Anita stared at the long, scarlet train before her nervously. Her heart was pounding with excitement as she looked around at the other students saying goodbye to their families.

“What if I don’t make any friends?” she asked, looking up at her parents. Hermione smiled reassuringly.

“You’ll make lots of friends. Just be yourself.” She said, readjusting Tristan, who was only two on her hip. Anita’s other brother, seven year old Adair, was at school and couldn’t be there to see her off.

“What if I’m in Gryffindor?” she asked, looking up at Draco, her blue eyes gazing into his imploringly.

“Then your mother and I will be proud of you.” He said simply.

“What if I’m in Slytherin?”

“Then I will be extremely proud of you and I will get you a new broom. Ow! Hermione, was that really necessary?” Draco asked, rubbing his shoulder where Hermione slapped him. The whistle blew and students around them began boarding the train, chattering with excitement. “Honey, you better get a move on; don’t want to miss the train.”

“But dad, what if I’m in Hufflepuff?” Anita asked fearfully, clutching at his arm. Draco sighed.

“It doesn’t matter what house you’re in, you mother and I couldn’t be more proud of you. If you’re in Slytherin, I hope you make friends with people in not just your house, but other houses as well. If you’re in Ravenclaw, I hope you get the best marks. And if you’re in Gryffindor, find friends just like your mum found in Uncle Harry and Ron.” Draco said, stroking his daughters long brown hair out of the side. Hermione beamed down at her husband and in pride. Anita opened her mouth again, but Draco cut her off. “It doesn’t matter if your in Hufflepuff either, now get on that train.”

Anita nodded and hugged both of her parents tightly and gave Tristan a kiss on the cheek, before hurrying off to the train. Draco wrapped his arm around Hermione.

“She’ll be alright, won’t she?” Hermione asked as the train pulled out of the platform.

“Of course she will.” Draco said. Tristan started crying as he realized that his sister left.

“Shh, it’s okay Tristan,” Hermione said soothingly, rubbing the toddlers back. “Sissy will be back at Christmas.”


Dear Mum and Dad,

Hogwarts is exactly like you described it, it’s unbelievable. Classes are going great and I’m beginning to make some really amazing friends. Professor Longbottom tells me stories about when you were in school. Did you really get turned into a ferret dad?

I really wanted to make this a long letter, but I already have a lot of homework to do so I should wrap this up. I miss you all very much. Give Tristan a kiss for me and tell Adair I miss him. I’ll write you next week.

Love,

Anita

P.S. I forgot to mention, I was sorted into Gryffindor.


Hermione watched in amusement from Anita’s bed as the sixteen year old unpacked her trunk, chatting animatedly about her sixth year. Of course, she talked about her friends, her two best friends reminded Hermione a lot of herself, Ron and Harry. She talked about keeping an eye on Adair as much as she could during his first year, he was sorted into Ravenclaw. And then she mentioned him, as she called the boy from Slytherin. He was Blaise Zambini’s son, Gianni.

“He’s a nightmare, honestly. He says the meanest things to me and constantly fights with Geoffrey and Adam. I don’t know how I’m going to stand another year with him.” Anita said, trying to stuff her clothes into her overstuffed closet. “I hate him!”

“You know, your father used to be the same way. We couldn’t stand each other and yet we ended up together. And from the way you’re talking about Gianni, you might just follow in our footsteps.” Hermione said knowingly. Anita gagged.

“Merlin I hope you’re wrong, I can’t even think of falling for that-that, arse.” Anita said, sitting down next to her mother. She crossed her legs and looked at Hermione curiously. “How did you and dad get together anyway? Every time I ask, you say you’ll tell me when I’m older.”

Hermione still to this day blushes every time she thinks of how she and Draco got together. She had always put telling Anita the story, but she figured that Anita was old enough to hear the story. She would be seventeen in a few months. ‘Wow, my baby’s going be seventeen,’ Hermione thought in shock. It seemed like just yesterday, Hermione was holding her for the first time, amazed that she and Draco had created something so perfect.

“Mum?” Hermione was brought out of her stupor by Anita looking at her impatiently. “Please tell me the story?”

“Okay, it was in my seventh year of school…”


Two years later…

“Ready dad?” Anita asked, offering her right arm arm. She was wearing her mom’s wedding dress, looking excitedly at the doors that were separating her from her soon to be husband.

“No, I’m not ready,” Draco said, honestly. He wasn’t ready, but he walked her down the aisle anyway and placed her hand in Gianni’s awaiting one before taking his place beside Hermione. She grabbed his hand and squeezed it as the couple said their “I do’s.” And history repeats itself…

Prove It Chapter Thirteen

Disclaimer-I do not own Harry Potter, I simply borrow the characters as my playthings and return them to J.K. Rowling in less than mint condition, albeit a satisfied condition, ha-ha.

Chapter 13 Grace from Rome

Draco sighed as he shrugged out of his door when he got home. He had only been working at the Ministry for a month, yet he felt he had been there for ages. Sometimes he considered just quitting and helping Hermione run the bookstore she was going to open in Hogsmeade. At first, Draco was surprised that she wanted to start the business, especially since he thought she’d want to get a job at the ministry too, but he supported her in her decision.

Hermione and he had only been married for nearly two months, and every day had been a new adventure. He however wasn’t excepting the new adventure that was waiting for him when he got home that Thursday evening. As he walked into their bedroom to change out of his work clothes and into some jeans and a jumper he found something strange waiting for him on the bed. Laying there were small pair of socks that looked like they could fit a doll.

“What the hell,” he wondered aloud, picking up the socks for closer inspection. Under the socks was a small square envelope that had his name written in Hermione’s neat handwriting. Tearing it open, he found a card that was bright yellow and green with little blocks on the front. He opened up the card and read the note. “Dear Draco, what would you like? A boy or a girl? Love from Hermione.”

Draco stood in shock before running through the house calling Hermione’s name, finding her in the study, curled up on the loveseat with a book on her lap. She looked up in surprise as he bounded in the room.

“Oh, you’re home. How was work?” She asked, trying to act nonchalant.

“We’re having a baby?” Draco asked breathlessly. His heart was beating faster than a hummingbird’s with a combination between excitement and fear. He wasn’t sure he was ready to be a father. Of course, he’d be a better father than his dad was, but what if he screwed up?

“Yes. I just found out today.” Hermione said, face lit up in joy. Draco picked her up and spun her around, chanting that they were going to have baby.

The next eight months were a roller coaster, with mood swings and cravings. Draco was amazed he was still alive; sometimes Hermione looked five seconds away from casting the killing curse on him. As her due date drew closer, they argued over names, they didn’t find out the sex as they wanted to be surprised. He wasn’t sure whether he wanted a boy or a girl. He would love a little girl that he could spoil senseless, but at the same time he would love to have a boy who he could play Quidditch with, although he could do that with a girl as well.

But then, finally, the big day arrived and their baby graced the world with its presence. At that moment, Draco didn’t have a care in the world. When he held his baby girl in his arms the first time, it was the most wonderful feeling in the world.

She had wisps of light brown hair at the top of her small head and eyes just like his. Her finger barely wrapped around his as she clasp onto with amazing strength and stared at him in small wonder.

“We still haven’t picked a name,” Hermione commented as she stroked the baby’s head lightly. She looked up at Draco in question. “What do you think?”

“Anita Roma Malfoy. Grace from Rome.” Draco said thoughtfully, mentally going over a list of names he had seen in the name book the other day.

“Anita Roma? It’s perfect, just like her.” Hermione said with a smile. She kissed the infant on the forehead. “Welcome to the world, Anita.”

There was a knock at the door before Ron, and the recently engaged Harry and Luna walked in. Luna cooed over the baby after she asked to hold it, exclaiming that she couldn’t wait to have one of her own.

“Can I hold her,” Ron asked, awkwardly holding his arms out to Harry, who was currently holding her. Harry passed Anita over carefully and he maneuvered his arms so he could properly support the head, a smile forming as she gazed up at him. “She’s beautiful, isn’t she?”

“Yes, she is.” Draco agreed, although he felt biased. “Ron, I’ve been thinking. Would you like to be her godfather?”

“Me? I, uh, really?” Ron stammered, face red with embarrassment. He quickly recovered. “I would be honored to.”

Prove It Chapter Twelve

Disclaimer-I don't own harry Potter.

Chapter 12

Draco grinned and picked Hermione up bridal style to carry her out of the reception hall. She let out a small shriek and clung to his neck. He walked out behind the hall to where they could apparate without being seen. But when they got there they found Ron standing waiting for them, which confused Hermione. He was shuffling his feet nervously.

“I wanted to tell you something before you left.” Ron began, shoving his hands in his pocket, fumbling for wods. “I know I haven’t always been supportive of you two and I’m really sorry. You better treat her right Draco; she’s one in a million. Hermione, Mum always said you’re family, so I guess I just wanted-I just wanted to say welcome to the family Draco,”

Hermione’s eyes filled with tears again as she got up and walked over to Ron, enveloping him in a tight hug. Draco came up behind her and shook Ron’s hand. “Thanks, Ron.”


Hermione blinked as the morning sunlight poured in through the window, bathing her in warm light. She stretched lazily, the sheets covering her slipped down to her waist, leaving her chest bare. She looked to the side to find the bed empty.

Was it all a dream? No, the room and the view of the Italian countryside outside her window definitely proved it was not a dream. Hermione got off the bed, putting on the silk robe that was lying on the floor. “Draco?”

“In the kitchen. I’ll be right there. Don’t move.” Draco called. Hermione raised an eyebrow and climbed back on the bed, perching herself up comfortably on the pillows. Draco came walking into the room with two bowls in his hands. “Good morning.”

“What’s that?” Hermione asked, looking in the bowls, expecting to find cereal but instead finding strawberries and what looked to be chocolate. She looked at him curiously.

“Don’t worry you’re pretty little head about it. Just lie down and enjoy it.” He lightly shoved her down onto the pillows, kissing her on the lips lightly. Draco took a strawberry dipped it in chocolate and traced her neck with it, leaving a trail of chocolate which he then proceeded to lick up slowly.

He continued to move the strawberry down her body, drawing intricate patterns with the chocolate, licking it away as he went. Hermione gazed down at him as moved down to her legs, watching him with longing and interest. He made it to the inner thigh of her right leg, stopping just before her entrance, repeating the process on her left leg stopping just where her leg met her pelvis. Hermione let out a sigh of frustration, squirming a bit.

Draco chuckled as he watched her writhe before deciding to take mercy on her. He took the strawberry and ever so lightly ran it up and down her folds, watching as she squirmed even more, bucking her hips in attempt to ease the tension building inside her. Parting her lips, he lapped up the chocolate, savoring the flavor of that mixed with her own juices like it was Elixir of Life itself, pressing the tip of his tongue to her clit, the moan that emitted from her was music to his ears.

Hermione pulled him up, his face level with hers and crashed her lips to his, having had enough of the teasing. She wound her legs around his waist, after ridding him of his boxers, pulling him closer.


“I love you,” Draco whispered, wrapping his arms around her as she drifted off to sleep. He nuzzled his head into her shoulder, joining her in the realm of unconsciousness.

Prove It Chapter Eleven

*Please see Author’s Note at the bottom of chapter for an explanation involving chapter.

Chapter 11

Draco checked his reflection in the mirror, face screwed up in concentration as he attempted to get the blasted bowtie straight. Today was the day. Hermione and Draco were going to be married today. They were having a muggle wedding, something her parents had been adamant about. He didn’t care about what kind of wedding; he just wanted to be married. They could have gone to Fiji and jumped over a broomstick for all he cared. So, here he was in a stuffy room in the back of a church not far from Hermione’s parents’ house. A knock sounded at the door.

“Come in,” Draco called. Harry entered the room. In a shocking turn of events, Draco had named Harry his best man and Ron, and Neville would be his groomsman. The two had formed a sort of close bond in the few short months since Draco and Hermione started seeing each other. Draco knew that if it weren’t for Harry talking sense into people, including Hermione herself, Hermione would’ve probably left him. Draco fidgeted with his bowtie before throwing his hands up in surrender. “Hey, mate, think you could help me out with this thing?”

“Sure, no problem,” Harry said, stepping in front of him and straightening the tie. “It’s getting crowded out there. How you feeling? Are you ready for this?”

“I think I’m more ready for it than Hermione,” Draco said with a laugh. She was so apprehensive about the wedding, she let her mom, and Ginny and Mrs. Weasley take over all the planning. But she agreed to give Draco the wedding he wanted because she figured he had done so much for her. “Have you seen her yet?”

“Yeah. She looks so beautiful. Do you remember how she looked at the Yule Ball? Take that and multiply it by about a hundred.” Harry said. He clapped Draco on the back. “Come on, it’s about time.”


“Oh, Hermione, you look stunning.” Ginny said as she helped Hermione adjust her veil. Hermione looked at her reflection and almost didn’t recognize the woman staring back at her. Her dress was pure white and had a beaded strapless bodice. The skirt was cinched to the side and a few thin layers of silk rippled gently down to the ground. Ginny had put three hours of work into Hermione’s hair and makeup. She couldn’t have picked a better maid of honor.

“Hey, can I have a moment alone with the bride,” asked a voice from the door. After everyone left the room, Hermione turned to find her father standing the in the door looking at her in awe. “Wow. Honey you look amazing.”

Hermione resisted the urge to roll her eyes. That’s all everyone could say. Her dad pulled her into a hug, careful not to mess up her veil or dress.

“How did you grow up so fast?” Her dad asked, holding her at arms length. His eyes looked a little glassy, as if he were about to cry. He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a little box to hand to her. Hermione looked at it incredulously before opening to reveal a strand of pearls. He helped her put it around her neck. “This belonged to my mother. It’s been in the family for a couple generations.”

“Thanks dad.” Hermione said, her eyes filling with tears. He wrapped his arm around hers.

“Come on, kiddo. It’s time to give you away.” Mr. Granger said, handing her a bouquet of while roses. He led her to the closed doors that led to the crowded room. As Ginny, Luna, and Lavender followed the flower girl and ring bearer, Hermione drew an unsteady breath. ‘Draco is behind these doors waiting for you. Forget about everyone else, just focus on him.’ Hermione thought. The thought of Draco waiting by the preacher fill Hermione with an unexpected excitement. She could do this. The wedding march played and Hermione and her father stepped into view.

"I love you, daddy." Hermione whispered before they started to walk down the aisle.


The room all stood up and faced the back, gasping and smiling as they watched Hermione walk down the aisle. Draco’s jaw dropped. Harry was wrong. She was so beautiful, words couldn’t describe it. She blushed and smiled as she walked toward him, eyes locked on his face alone.

“Doesn’t she look beautiful,” he whispered to no one in particular, but he didn’t wait to hear the answer. He didn’t feel Harry grip his shoulder for a brief moment either.


There he was waiting for her. Just a few more feet,' she told herself. Hermione locked her eyes with is, and the rest of the room melted away. Draco smiled at her as she stepped closer. She was almost there.


When they finally got to the front of the room, Hermione’s dad adjusted her veil and placed her hand in Draco’s awaiting one. Giving Draco a pat on the back, Mr. Granger took his place next to his wife. The preacher’s eyes swept across the room before beginning.

“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to witness the joining of this young couple. Who gives this woman?” He asked. Mr. and Mrs. Granger stepped forward and stated that they were giving Hermione to Draco. She shot them a watery smile before turning back to Draco. “Such a love I see between these two souls. I’d like to start with a prayer and have the couple repeat after me.”

“Lord help us to remember when
we first met and the strong
love that grew between us.
To work that love into
practical things so that nothing
can divide us.
We ask for words both kind
and loving and hearts always
ready to ask forgiveness
as well as to forgive.
Dear Lord, we put our
marriage into your hands”

“Amen,” Draco and Hermione said as they finished reciting the prayer after the preacher, still not breaking eye contact with each other.

“Before the traditional vows are exchanged, the bride and groom have each written their own vows for one another.” The preacher said. He looked over at Draco to begin. He took a deep breath.

“I, Draco, affirm my love to you, Hermione, as I invite you to share my life. You are the most beautiful, smart, and generous person I have ever known, and I promise always to respect you. With kindness, unselfishness and trust, I will work by your side to create a wonderful life together.” Draco said, repeating the words it took him two weeks to write. Hermione let out the tears she had been holding in.

“Draco, you are my partner in life and my one true love. I will cherish our union and love you more each day than I did the day before. I will trust you and respect you, laugh with you and cry with you, loving you faithfully through good times and bad, regardless of the obstacles we may face together. From this day on, you will have my hand, my heart, and my love.” Hermione said, giving his hands a squeeze. They looked at the preacher to continue.

“May I have the rings please?” Harry stepped forward and handed the rings to both Draco and Hermione. “Do you, Hermione, take Draco to be you lawfully wedded husband?”

“I do.”

“Do you, Draco, take Hermione to be you lawfully wedded wife?”

“I do.”

“Do you together promise in the presence of your friends and family that you will at all times and in all circumstances, conduct yourselves toward one another as becomes Husband and Wife? Do you together promise you will love, cherish and respect one another throughout the years?”

“We do.” They said in unison. As the preacher asked if there was anyone who objected to their marriage, Hermione looked out across the cramped chapel. She could see her mother weeping along with several others. Several of their friends from Hogwarts were smiling up at her.

“You many kiss the bride.” Draco dipped her and gave her a long, passionate kissed that received several wolf whistles from the crowd. “Ladies and gentlemen, it gives me great pleasure to be the first to present Mr. and Mrs. Draco Malfoy.”

AN-Sappy? Yes. Did I cry a little while writing it? Unfortunately, yes. I’m sorry if weddings don’t usually go like that. I must confess, the only wedding that I attended was when I was eight. I didn’t really pay attention and it was a catholic one, so all I paid attention to was when to stand, kneel, and sit. Also, I’m not religious, I’m not to sure if there is religion in the wizarding world or what faith Hermione is and I don’t know if I offend anyone by making it all “Dear lord, blah blah.” I had to do a lot of research for the vows. I did not write them, I found them on . If that’s forgery I’m sorry, but I couldn’t come up with a single vow. I did change them a little bit though. Ok enough from me. You know what to do, right? You click on the little button down at the bottom of the page and leave me a nice comment about how much you loved the chapter and I’ll reply back and then post the next chapter on Monday. It’s not that hard.

Prove It Chapter Ten

Disclaimer-I do not own Harry Potter. Call off the lawyers before they hurt someone and have a reason to defend an assault lawsuit.

Chapter 10

Hermione looked down at the hand Draco was holding, seeing something glinting up at her in the torchlight. She gasped. No way. There was no possible way that he was suggesting what she thought he was suggesting.

“Draco? What-“Hermione stuttered out. She looked at him quickly before looking back down at her left hand. “You can’t be serious.”

“But I am quite serious.” The expression on his face illustrated that he was not joking around.

“But it’s only been a few months.” Hermione disputed. ‘Why are you arguing about him proposing?’ her mind asked her. Had she not dreamed about the day that Draco proposed? Had she not dreamed about them having little blond, curly haired children scampering about and the two of them growing old together?

“In the wizarding world, you get married fairly quickly.” Draco explained. He really didn’t understand why she was reacting like this. ‘Don’t women usually look forward to getting married?’ he thought. Maybe she was expecting him to be all romantic about it. Something like a candle lit dinner and getting down on one knee in front of a crowd in a fancy restaurant. That the thing women liked right? But Draco figured Hermione wasn’t one of them. That’s when it hit him. “You don’t want to marry me, do you?”

“No. No, it’s not that. It’s just, it’s so soon.” Hermione said, fumbling over her words. ‘Just say yes, you idiot!’ her mind screamed at her.

“So what difference would it make if we wait a few months or not? You love me and I love you. Is that going to change within a few months time? Is there something you trying to tell me about our relationship?” Draco asked, standing up and pulling her along with him. Hermione stared at him for a second before shaking her head and looking down at the floor. He sighed and dropped down to the floor. He didn’t want to do it this way, but here goes. “Hermione, I never expected any of this to happen when we went into that class room that night. But you got in under my skin and now I just can’t see my future without you. I’ve done everything I can to stay with you. For Merlin’s sake, I’ve actually become somewhat friends with Ron and Harry and the rest of the Gryffindor house because of you.”

“Draco,” Hermione whispered, looking away. ‘Why is he doing this,’ she thought, praying she didn’t start to cry. Draco grabbed her hands and continued.

“I don’t know how you did it, but you changed me. And sure sometimes you still irritate me to no end, but I would love to spend the rest of my life being irritated by you.” Draco said. He fought the urge to roll his eyes at the thought of how corny he sounded. “I know you think it’s too soon but I don’t. Hermione, will you please marry me?”

“Draco Malfoy,” she breathed again, shaking her head slightly. Draco’s breath caught in his throat, preparing for her to say no. ‘Just say yes, you moron. You’ll regret it if you don’t.’ her mind screamed again. She was quiet for a minute, staring into Draco’s pleading eyes. Before Hermione could stop it, her answer escaped her mouth. “Yes.”

Draco let out a relieved sigh and stood up. He kissed her with hunger as he pressed her against the wall, ready for a repeat performance of earlier.


Hermione rolled over onto her back and looked at the ceiling of her four poster bed the next morning. ‘Was it a dream?’ she wondered. She lifted her left hand and inspected it. No, the evidence was right there on her finger. It was definitely not a dream. She and Draco were, most assuredly, engaged.

She needed to talk to somebody. She had to tell someone, anyone. Hermione got out of bed and dressed slowly, mentally going over her options. She couldn’t tell Ginny, she would shriek in surprise and then everyone would know. And Hermione wasn’t sure she was ready to deal with that yet. She couldn’t tell Ron, which that was a no brainer. Lavender or Parvati could make sure everyone knew; they were the biggest gossips in the school. She’d tell Harry. Why hadn’t she thought of him immediately? They told each other everything.

Hermione ran down to the common room and scanned it for Harry, finding him sitting in one of the cozy armchairs with Ron and Ginny. “Hey. Good morning. Er, Harry can I talk to you?”

“Sure.” Harry said, looking at the other two and giving a shrug. Together, they walked down to the Great Hall and grabbing a stack of toast before heading out to the lake. They had lapped the lake once before Harry broke the silence. “So what do you want to talk about?”

Hermione stopped and glanced across the water, thinking over how to tell Harry. Harry looked at her questionably. She turned around to face him and thrust out her left hand. Harry gaped at it.

“Seriously?” Was all he could manage to say. Hermione nodded. Harry whistled as he took her hand and inspected the ring. It was a gorgeous ring, now that she took the time to really look at it. It had a round diamond set atop a small band of smaller diamonds on a platinum band. Harry pulled her into a tight hug. “Wow. Hermione, this is wonderful! I’m so happy for you.”

“Thanks.” She said. “But don’t you think it’s a little soon? That’s all can I think about. We’ve only been together a couple of months.”

“Hermione, my parents got married the summer right after they finished and they didn’t get together until around Christmas time in their seventh year. You two have been together for far longer than they were.” Harry said as he wrapped his arm around her shoulder and led her around the lake again. She looked back at other couples they had known. Tonks and Lupin got married after being together for less than a year. So had Bill and Fleur. Maybe it was the way things were done in the wizarding world after all. “You two will be very happy together, even more so than you are already.”

“You think so,” Hermione asked. Harry nodded. Could she and Draco really have a life together?

Prove It Chapter Eight

AN-I wrote this while the server was down. So I thought I’d post two chapters. I hope you liked Chapter 7. I don’t know why, but every time I post, I think people are going to hate it. I’m being very paranoid lately.

Disclaimer-I do not own Harry Potter. I keep forgetting to put the disclaimer. If I’ve forgotten up until this point, I’m sorry.

Chapter 8

Harry sat in one of the good armchairs by the fire. It was well past ten and neither of his best friends had returned. Hermione probably was staying the night with Draco, but Ron hadn’t come back yet and that had him worried. Harry hoped that Hermione and Ron did not get into a fight, but that was what most likely what happened, judging by their track record. Sometimes, he wondered how Hermione and Ron managed to be friends at all, due to all their fights. Well, even if Ron and Hermione had a fight, Harry would do some damage control. He didn’t want his best friends fighting over such a silly thing.

Harry really didn’t care that Hermione and Malfoy were together. He saw the way she and Malfoy looked at each other. Hermione seemed so happy the whole day that the three of them were together. He just hoped Ron would come around. Malfoy isn’t as horrible as they thought.

Around midnight, Harry heard the portrait hole open up behind him. Turning around, he saw Ron walking toward the stairs to the dormitory with a very angry expression on his face. Harry cleared his throat and stood up.

“Ron, what happened? Did you two fight again?” Harry asked, already having a general idea of what went down.

“I don’t want talk about it, Harry. Stay out of it.” Ron said, as he walked over and plopped down in a chair instead of going up to bed. He stared at the fire.

“I don’t think I can stay out of it. You and Hermione are my best friends. I hate it when you two fight.” Harry said. Ron pretended he didn’t hear Harry. “Look, I know you don’t like Malfoy, but you need to get over it.”

“What? I need to get over the fact that Hermione’s dating that-that bastard.” Ron shouted. Harry grimaced, hoping Ron didn’t wake up anyone.

“Yes, you do. He makes Hermione very happy. I think you need to get over yourself and try to make nice with him. He’s actually trying to be civil to us.”

“Look, I’ve heard enough of that from Hermione, I don’t need you preaching to me, too.” Ron said. Harry sighed. He clearly wasn’t going to get anywhere with Ron.

“You know what, whatever. I give up. But I’m not going to go back and forth between you and Hermione this time. I’m going to take her side for once.” Harry said. Giving Ron one last glance, he turned and headed to the stairs.

The next morning came all to quick. Sun protruded Harry’s closed eyes and he wished he had drawn the curtains last night before he fell asleep. He buried his head under the pillow before giving up on trying to get back to sleep. Harry took a quick shower before getting dressed and heading down to the common room. He was surprised to see Ron already up and sitting in the chair where Harry left him last night.

“Are you coming to breakfast?” Harry asked him. Ron ignored him. Harry sighed and walked out the portrait hole. When he arrived at the Great Hall, he was slightly surprised to see Malfoy and Hermione already at the Slytherin table already, sitting on the way end away from the rest of the people at the table. Crabbe sat next to Malfoy with Goyle across from Crabbe. Malfoy had his left arm around her waist. Hermione looked up and saw him and she sent him a smile, waving him over to join them. He returned it as he sat down across from her and poured some corn flakes. “Hey.”

“Hey,” Hermione said, still smiling. Harry never saw he smile so much. She glanced at the doors from time to time, looking for Ron, Harry and Draco both guessed.

“I don’t think he’s coming, Hermione.” Harry said, shaking his head slightly.

“Oh,” was all she relied. Harry went on to tell them about the talk he had with Ron. Hermione sighed. “Thanks for trying, Harry. You didn’t have to.”

“Yeah, Potter, er, thank you.” Draco said uncomfortably. Harry nodded in his direction and continued to eat his breakfast. Draco’s gaze drifted toward the door and a small smile graced his lips. Harry and Hermione followed his gaze and both let out small gasp. Ron came walking toward them, a small look of defeat on his face.

“Do you mind if I sit there,” He said, pointing to the seat across from Draco in between Goyle and Harry.

“No, go right ahead.” Draco replied. Goyle threw a look of disgust toward Draco and started to inch away from Ron. Crabbe and Goyle still weren’t completely sold on the whole be-nice-to-Hermione’s-friends idea. Hermione beamed as Ron slid in the seat.

“Good to see you decided to join us,” Harry said, clapping his friend on the back.

“Yeah, well, we can’t be stuck up jerks all the time,” Ron said. He looked to Hermione. “I’m sorry, Hermione. I wish I could take back everything I said last night.”

“No worries, Ron. I’m just glad you came to sit with us.” Hermione said. She smiled again looking back and forth between everyone, as Ron and Harry made awkward conversation with Draco and the other Slytherins. ‘Maybe everything will all work out,’ she thought.

Prove It Chapter Seven

AN-Here’s a new update. Took me awhile, I know, but I started a new school a few weeks ago, so I’ve been trying to adjust to that. If I may do a little story pimping here, I am revising Harry Potter and the Found Family, please check it out. I did a major overhaul of sorts on it. I’m also going to start working on revising Prove It as well, because some suggested it. I won’t make major changes, but I’ve been reading it and I can see where some revisions would make it better. Enjoy the chapter.

Chapter 7

“Mischief managed.” Hermione said, folding the Marauder’s Map that she borrowed from Harry. She really needed to talk to Ron, but he hadn’t been seen by a soul all day. The little dot with his name on it was sitting up on the Astronomy tower. She began the track up to the tower and found Ron sitting on the wall with his feet dangling over the edge. “Hey.”

“Hey,” Ron replied, not turning to meet her gaze. Hermione sat down against the wall, not brave enough to sit on it like Ron, and waited for him to talk first. “Hermione, he’s Draco Malfoy.”

“Yes. And you’re Ron Weasley; I’m Hermione Granger, and Harry’s Harry Potter. Who else are we missing here?” Hermione asked sarcastically, already starting to get aggravated. She drew a deep breath, reminding herself to stay calm and not yell at him. Or, worse case scenario, push him off the tower.

“How?” Ron questioned. Hermione looked down at her knees, wringing her fingers together and didn’t say anything. Ron turned his head to look down at her. “Well, I’m waiting. How did you two get together?”

“One night I was patrolling and I ran into Draco and one thing led to another.” Hermione said slowly. She supposed Ron could figure out the rest. This was somewhat harder telling to Ron. Maybe because she knew Harry and she were each others confidants and could tell each other anything. “After that, I just couldn’t stop seeing him. And now, I really care for him. And he clearly does me because he was the one who suggested sitting with me at breakfast and going public.”

“He’ll hurt you just like he has for the past seven years.” Ron said, his voice barely audible. “He’s not right for you.”

“And who is right for me, Ronald?” Hermione spat, her patience disappeared and replaced with rage. She stood up and turned to face him. “Well, tell me. You clearly know who the perfect guy is for me better than I do.”

Ron cringed at her tone but didn’t say anything. Hermione felt tears stinging at her eyes. She turned around and walked to the door. She gave one last look over her shoulder. “You know, Draco was at least willing to bury the hatchet and attempt civility with you for my sake. He is with Harry. And Harry accepts this. Why can’t you?”

And with that she ran down the staircase. As she reached the seventh floor, she didn’t realize her feet weren’t carrying her in the direction of Gryffindor, but instead the Slytherin dungeons until she reached the wall that hid the Slytherin common room. Was he even in the common room? Even if he wasn’t, she could go in and wait in his room. But then another thought hit her. Was it safe to go in there with out Draco to protect her from the other Slytherins who hated her? Sure, she could fend for herself if there were one or two, but not a dormitory full.

Drawing her wand and hiding inside her sleeve, she said the password and stepped inside, trying to ignore the glares of the students inside as she glanced around the room for Draco. A wave of relief crashed through her when she found him sitting in an armchair by the fire with Crabbe and Goyle and she nearly ran over to where they were. Draco looked at her in confusion and shock.

“Hermione, what are you doing here?” Draco asked. Other people in the room fixed their gazes on Hermione, wanting to know the same thing. He got up and put a hand on her elbow. “Come on, let’s go somewhere more private.”

“He doesn’t understand,” Hermione said finally after she and Draco reached his room. Draco looked at her in confusion. “Ron. I tried to talk some sense into him. I tried to make him understand you and me being together. But he didn’t understand. All he could think was you’re Draco Malfoy, the guy who’s tormented the three of us.”

“I realize I’ve been a huge jerk, but I’m trying to make up for it.” Draco said, as he sat down next to her on the bed.

“I know you have. And I love that you’ve been trying to change and get along with Harry. But Ron’s my friend too, and I want him accept you.” Hermione said, trying to fight the tears that were threatening to fall again. Merlin, Ron makes her so mad. “I need him to accept this. But he won’t. He said you aren’t good for me.”

“Hermione, if he can’t accept this, then maybe he’s not really your friend.” Draco said. Saying that, he realized, was a really big mistake. For soon, Hermione stopped fighting the tears and started sobbing. He wrapped his arm around her. “I’m sorry.”

“What were we thinking? This will never work. We’re just too different. No one will accept it. Maybe we should just end this now before we get hurt.” Hermione rambled, not making much sense. Draco got down on the floor and forced her to look him in the eyes.

“What are you babbling about? I don’t understand. What happened to the Hermione Granger who didn’t give a rats arse what people thought of her, including a certain Weasley who used to think of you as completely mental? Huh, where’s that Hermione hiding?” Draco questioned, ever breaking eye contact. “I don’t care what others think.”

“You don’t?” Hermione gasped in surprise. Draco shook his head. ‘Maybe Draco really has changed,’ she mused.

“Nope. Hell, I’m pretty sure the entire Slytherin house won’t speak to me, save for Crabbe and Goyle. But what other people think doesn’t really matter, does it? Now can you stop being so melodramatic and trying to break up with me?”

“You’re right.” Hermione said after a while, dabbing her eyes with the tissues Draco conjured for her. “I don’t know what happened to my senses just now. Every doubt I ever had was just amplified when I was talking to Ron.”

“Are you ok now?” He asked, rejoining her on the bed. She gave a weak smile and nodded. Draco pulled her down on the bed to lie down next to him, putting his arm under her neck and wrapping it around he shoulder. They lay in silence for about a half hour, Draco tracing circles on her upper arm. “Will you stay again tonight?”

“No, I should go back to Gryffindor Tower. I shouldn’t get so used to sleeping with you. Because then what would happen when you’re not around and I have to sleep by myself?” Hermione questioned. ‘Since when do you need someone with you to sleep,’ her mind asked. In truth the night before, after they fell asleep after making love; that was the most restful sleep Hermione had in a long time.

“And just where will I be at when I’m not around? Look, don’t worry about whatever the future holds, let’s just focus on tonight,” Draco said softly. Hermione rolled over and rested her head on his chest, listening to the faint thud of his heart. The rhythmic beats soon lulled her into sleep.