Once, early in the summer, Draco had told Hermione of his own secret place, much like her hidden library. A place that only those with Malfoy blood knew about. He'd shown her, speaking in quiet whispers, and removing the wards for just a short while so she could cross the invisible boundary surrounding the area. It's at the very edge of the Malfoy property, hidden deep in a forest.

"I come out here when I need to be alone," he'd said, keeping her close at hand. His palm had rested against her lower back, a comfort as the wind had rustled the branches high over their heads. "When I need time to think. It's like my very own home away from home."

During summer, it had been a beautiful little area, untouched by the pollutants of the outside world. A small pond nestled in the center of a ring of tall oak trees. Over the crystalline water, rather than a dock, hung an outcrop of stone. Wide enough and stable enough to hold at least three people at once. The entire space had been warm with golden summer sunlight

Now, it's dark enough that Hermione can hardly see in front of herself. She walks by memory alone, not daring to use lumos for fear he will see her coming and run away. When she reaches the clearing with the pond, cool moonlight filters down and gives her enough light to see by.

A small smile breaks through her expression of determination as she catches sight of a familiar figure sitting on the edge of the rock. His back is turned towards her and his head is down as he stares into the water below.

Careful not to disturb him or alert him to her presence, she slowly picks her way forward. When she reaches the rocks, she stops. He's still unaware of her arrival. Taking advantage of the time to gather herself, she sets her jaw and presses her lips together tight. Her head lifts and her shoulders square.

She's here for a reason and she'll be damned if she'd allow herself to forget by getting caught up in staring at him.

Draco picks up a slow, sad tune, humming it quietly. Despite herself, she is captivated and listens for a long while. She's heard the song before, on more than one occasion. Often times, back when they still lived together in her home, she would hear this same tune coming from his room in the evening. Each time, she had paused whatever she was doing and listened. It's a wonderfully depressing song, but beautiful nonetheless.

She hesitates now, afraid to interrupt the gentle melody of the song, then clears her throat anyway.

He stops abruptly, leaving a note hanging in the air with nothing to follow it, and it leaves her feeling like she's balanced on the edge of a tall ledge, stuck on the threshold of satisfaction and disappointment.

Without turning around, he says, "I told you, mother, I want to be alone tonight."

She frowns at the back of his head, wondering why he assumes she's his mother, then remembers that he isn't exactly expecting Hermione to show up.

Drawing in a breath, she whispers, "I knew I'd find you here."

Draco whips around, eyes widening as he takes her in. He scrambles to his feet faces her, eyes her closely with a hint of something dark in his gaze. "What're you doing here? Come to taunt me for what I said? How terribly cruel of you," he hisses, leaning forward in what she thinks is meant to be a threat. She knows him far too well to be afraid, though.

"Draco, I-"

He shoves past her, stalking off the stone overhand, and scoffs loud. Hermione watches him walk away, silently hoping he won't leave completely. Luck is in her favor tonight, because he stops beside one of the oaks and throws a burning glare at her over his shoulder.

"Don't bother making excuses. I don't want to hear a single word of what you have to say," he spits. "Now leave so that I can change the warding on this place. You can't expect me to get over you if you come to the only place I can find peace at now. Get out, now."

She stares at him searchingly, and doesn't miss the way the warm silver of his eyes has dulled considerably. Where, earlier, they had glowed with warmth and care, especially when he had worked to calm her down, now they are cold and empty. Lifeless orbs of gray set into a dead face.

Guilt nips sharply at her, but it isn't enough to stop her from stomping forward and getting up in his personal space. Her palm itches to smack him for his words and cold treatment, but she won't be that sort of person. Instead, she accio's his wand and holds it tightly in her grip.

His cheeks flush in rage. "Where do you get off taking my wand? Isn't it enough telling me you don't reciprocate my feelings and showing me that the very thought of us being together disgusts you? Now you've stripped me of my wand too!" She holds his wand out of reach, behind her back, and sends him a challenging look. "Granger, I swear to Merlin, give me back my wand or I'll-"

Hermione won't lie, the return to her last name stings more than she lets on. "Silencio!" she interrupts, pointing her own wand at him.

His mouth bursts into a flurry, though no sound is made, which only upsets him more. His hands flap through the air, gesturing wildly, and she's never been more thankful that she's lost the skill of reading lips since the war ended.

"Malfoy," she says, using his last name as he had done. He winces and his mouth snaps closed. "I'm sorry for the spell, but you won't let me speak. I'll let you speak again once I've said my piece, just as you got to back at Hogwarts." His eyes narrow but he gives a terse nod of consent.

She catches him glancing at her arms, seeking his wand.

"Don't make me put you in a full body bind, Malfoy."

He blinks, tilting his head, then his mouth drops in silent comprehension. Without any sound, he looks much like a gaping fish, and she fights not to snicker. Realizing that he's forced to listen, Draco closes his mouth and rolls his eyes, leaning back against the tree. He makes a gesture for her to proceed.

"Thank you. All I want is to explain." Draco nods in a way that all but screams his disinterest. He's wearing an impassive mask, and though it hurts, him hiding from her like he so often did in the past, she knows she deserves it.

For a moment, she closes her eyes and thinks over her words. She hadn't taken the time to plan what she would say on her way here. Her entire focus had just been finding him. Here and now, all the words she wants to say are jumbled and trapped.

She should have thought more, taken more time to figure out what is needing to shared.

Taking a stuttering breath, she lets it out slow, opens her eyes, and starts speaking anyway. "I need you to know that back at the school, I hadn't fully processed what you were telling me. I'm not sure why; Surprise, maybe? I don't know, but what I am sure of is that it wasn't what you seem to think it is," she says, then pauses, thinking back on what he'd called it. "Disgust? No, I couldn't feel that, not with you. Never with you. If you'd stayed just a while longer, I could have told you, before you were hurt."

A flicker of anger shadows his expression. Thinking back on her words, Hermione realizes what caused the reaction.

"I'm no blaming you," she rushes to reassure. "A close friend helped me realize that we're both very much at fault for this." He settles again, crossing his arms over his chest. "As I was saying, I want to tell you the truth. You see, while I was stunned by your admittance-" she stops, bites her lip, and looks down. "-I was pleased as well. Harry, the meddling prat, helped me realize that. For so long, the only thing I thought I felt was a friendly bond. Merlin, it was so much more, though."

Hermione has to pause again. Her fists curl at her side as a wave of memories washes over her. From their time in France to playing their silly game of knowledge in her library to him showing her this clearing during summer. Every moment they shared together, every private second in their life in the past year. It all flashes through her mind and leaves her quaking.

When she finds the strength to speak again, her voice trembles. She can't meet his eyes, for fear of what she'll find if she does. "When you walked out of the tower, it was like my entire world was crumbling down around me. My chest ached and my lungs burned, my stomach flipped, and just standing felt like the greatest feat every accomplished. It was the first time since the wedding that I've felt that way.

"After Ron, I was hurt. I wouldn't let anyone in, not friends or family." She sniffs and shakes her head, letting out a wry laugh. "Whether you're aware of it or not, you helped me. You helped me pick up my shattered remains and let me piece myself back together again. Despite the curse, you helped me back to the person I was, and somewhere along the way, my feelings for you shifted," she admits.

Hermione has to look at him now. Forcing her gaze up, she meets his eyes and gives a weak smile. An almost fearful hope has sparked in his gray orbs, though he quickly douses it and hides behind his mask of impassiveness. He nods for her to go on.

"I'm not sure when, but at some point, I stopped viewing you as a friend. In every scenario I imagine now, my life in five or ten or fifteen years ahead, you're always by my side. I can't seem to even think of living a life without you with me. Who would want to live a life without the person they love, anyway?"

She watches in rapt fascination as Draco's mask falls away. His lips move rapidly again, seemingly forgetting that he can't be heard. When he does remember, he lunges forward and fights for his wand.

Hermione steps away, backing up and around the pond with him following close. Steadfastly ignoring his desperate face and his mouth moving in silent pleas, Hermione shakes her head.

"Stop, Draco," she commands, switching back to his first name, unwilling to be so cold anymore. "I want my time to speak, let me have this, or I don't think I'll ever be able to do it again."

Draco stumbles to a halt and nods jerkily, his only form of communication. Even still, he's fidgeting and shifting from foot to foot.

"I don't know why, but I love you so much that it made me ache when you were walking out of my life. I know I hurt you terribly by not replying, but I'm answering you now; I love you more than I can describe and I've never been sorrier for anything as much as I am for not realizing this sooner." Lifting her wand, she hesitates before releasing the spell on him. "I sincerely hope you'll forgive me, and if you can't let me have this one last thing, okay?"

Brow furrowed, Draco opens his mouth, and this she can understand. "What do you mean," he mouths.

Hermione waves her wand, releasing Draco from the spell. Before he can speak, she surges forward and cups his face, drawing him down to her with one, fast motion. Just before she closes her eyes, she sees his go wide. Then his lips meet hers and finally, blissfully, they're kissing.

Knowing he might chose to send her away after this, Hermione throws everything into the kiss.

And it's a kiss so full of longing and passion and craving that it sends shivers rolling down her spine. It speaks of hopes and dreams and the future. It screams out the long awaited confessions of love.

Starting slow, she familiarizes herself with him, then picks up in a fervor when she remembers that this may be her only time to experience it.

Hands sliding back around to the nape of his neck, she tugs gently at the hair there in an attempt to pull him closer. It's only then that he reacts, and his arms come up. She thinks, for a moment, that it's to push her away. But then his arms slip down to her waist. His palms settle on her hips, yanking her flush against him, and something shatters in her chest.

She sinks into him, letting herself relax for the first time since she'd walked into the clearing to find him on the stone. He hums his approval, hands rubbing soothing circles and bunching the fabric of her dress.

Draco eases back just a little, reigning them both in before they get too heated. He makes it a sweeter, more innocent kiss, and Hermione can't find reason to mind. Her heart flutters, lips curving in a smile. He chuckles and she can feel him smirking.

Pulling back, only enough to part their lips, he rests his forehead against hers. Hermione mutters her disapproval, but notices that both of them are really in need of a breath. She inhales deep and he does the same before pressing a soft kiss to her red lips. It's feather-light and hardly last more than a moment, but it leaves her feeling warm.

Neither willing to let the other go, but both feeling too tired to keep standing, they sink to the ground, uncaring of their clothes. Hermione is sprawled in his lap, resting with her back against his chest.

"You thought I'd do anything but kiss you back?" He snorts, "Merlin, you must have really misinterpreted how much I care for you."

She reaches behind herself and flicks his cheek.

He doesn't speak again immediately, and when she does, it hurts to hear the way his voice breaks. "So you mean it then? You love me?"

Hermione turns and looks at him, imploring him to understand and believe her. "More than I ever thought possible to love someone," she answers without hesitation.

Draco dips down to press another kiss to her lips and his smile is beaming, though it fades when he pulls back and voices his next question. "How do you know, though? What if you take up tomorrow and realize that you don't really love me?

She clutches at his shoulders, squeezing tight, and leans in close. "I've never been more sure of anything. Yes it took me a long time, too long, but I know now. I do love you and will continue to love you," she says. Hermione grins, nuzzle against his cheek. "You better not fall out of love with me because I swear, you won't get out of this easily."

He chuckles. "Don't worry, I don't plan on letting you slip away either." They share a look, showing all the words they can't say aloud. "What about your friends? Potter, I know, doesn't mind, but what about the others?"

Hermione snickers and shakes her head. "They won't be a problem. From what I've heard, they fully support us," she answers, resting her head against his shoulder with a small sigh. Tracing shapeless figures on his chest, she lets silence fall around them.

Draco shivers under her gentle caresses, then speaks once more. "What about Weasley?"He feels the way she tenses and her hands stop their soothing ministrations. Ready to retract the question, he opens his mouth, but Hermione starts to move around.

Pulling back so her face is level with his, she lets all her fury fill her up. It burns brighter than any he's ever seen her hold in the past.

"He won't dare come back around. Never mind the aurors looking for him. If I see him, I'll blast him apart, and he knows that. Besides," she sniffs, lifting her head high on her shoulders, pride glimmering in her cinnamon orbs. "He won't define my life any more. I'm done living in fear of what he'll do. I'm not his, haven't been for a long time. He isn't going to keep me from the happiness I'll have with you," she spits. Her words a fierce, strong, and cold, but spoken with an underlying promise to him.

She would not leave Draco.

He smiles, pleased, and darts in for a chaste kiss to her cheek. "I'm happy for you, Hermione," Draco whispers. "I never want you to be unhappy. You've had enough of that to last a lifetime."

"I think so too," she agrees. "Is that your last question? I'd really rather get off the grass and inside the house," Hermione says, plucking a blade of said grass and flicking it at him.

Draco stands and lifts her along with him before setting her on her feet. They stare at each other before devolving into giddy laughter. When a cold wind sweeps through the trees, though, they both press closer together.

"Inside," the say in unison, and start off. Hermione grabs their fallen wands and hands Draco his as they go. As they walk, Draco's knuckles brush hers three times before he works up the courage to take her hand in his. She doesn't protest.

They've just reached the back of the manor when Draco comes to a sudden stop. Hermione turns to him, frowning and fighting back a shiver. "What's wrong? Did you forget something back at the pond?"

He stares at her a moment, ignoring her question, then he sinks to one knee and looks up at her.

Hermione gasps, face contorting into horror. "Draco Malfoy!" She screeches, "you get up off your knee or I'll hex you so terribly that-"

Draco shushes her, cupping her hands between his own. "You asked me if I had any more questions and I do. Just one, but it's fairly important," he says sweetly.

Shaking her head, Hermione tries to pull out of his grasp. "Draco, we've only just kissed! Get up off your knee or I'll hex you into the next century," she hisses when he won't let her go.

He places a kiss on her knuckles, calming her enough so that he can speak. "I'm not that rash, Hermione," he chuckles. "But it is important."

Letting out a breath, she says, "you're a right prat for tricking me like that, but go on." There is no heat in her words, and she's smiling, so he doesn't feel too awful.

"Hermione Jean Granger, now that I know you love me the way I love you, will you do me the greatest pleasure of being mine?" There is a moment where they both stand still, Hermione stunned, and Draco waiting. And then a peal of laughter is bursting out of Hermione and Draco has to act quick to catch her as she throws herself at him.

Their lips meet in a short, hard kiss, and Hermione breaks away before it can evolve into anything more. "As long as you'll be mine," she murmurs, pressing her words into his skin with a peppering of pecks.

He feels them like they're scorched down to his bones, but it doesn't hurt. It fills him up in all the places he didn't know were empty. He feels so warm he could burst, and holds her tight in his arms.

"I wouldn't dream of being anyone else's."