Lost | By : FelicityGemfiar Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 3561 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
Lost
Author:
Felicity Gemfiar
Rating: G
Genre:
Romance
Pairing:
Draco/Hermione
Disclaimer:
All characters, names, associations, and the world of Hogwarts belong to J.K.
Rowling and her corporate people. This is purely for entertainment purposes
without any generated revenue.
Summary:
Draco asks Hermione a question.
* * * * *
She stood
at the terrace railing, watching the sunset. Purples and oranges tossed about
among blues and reds supported by clouds of green trees splayed themselves
before her. The breeze ruffled her caramel locks and teased at the hem of her sea
foam summer dress. Standing just behind her left shoulder, he could see
everything: her perfectly formed physique, the strength in her shoulders, the
love in her eyes, the determination of her jaw, the brilliance in her mind.
She thought
he looked at the expanse of the Gardens below, dotted here and there with
splashes of colour. But he’d seen them, been in them, a million times. He lived
here, for Merlin’s sake.
The breeze
picked up again and sent a warm shiver down her spine. That spine was tailored
of steel, of that he could vouch for. They’d gone through so much together.
From hatred to friendship, from friendship to relationship, from relationship
to lovers; now he was to take the next step.
He’d always
remember that day she hit him, in their third year. Things started to change
then. Taunting her became the only way he could find to magnify her faults:
bossiness, too clever, emotional, plain, impure… But her faults made her more
magnetic, more desirable. Her faults exemplified her beauty; he couldn’t get
enough of her.
Then they
were thrown together during the war, making charms and potions, elixirs and
ointments for those who were injured. They both shared a passion for medicine.
It was there, in those cabbage-stench rooms, that she insulted him to the core,
forced him to question his values, examine his life, and find himself wanting.
She changed him for the better. Friendship bloomed once he stopped his bigoted
outlook on society, once he began to open his heart to her.
From that
moment, he was lost. Nothing could have prevented him from caring for her, from
taking her in his arms and kissing the breath right out of her lungs when the
news of Lord Voldemort’s demise reached them. No one could
have convinced him not to escort her to the formal Ministry Ceremony and have
his breath stolen at the sight of her dazzling beauty in the green silk gown.
Not one
person could have stopped him from loving her utterly, and so completely that
it brought tears to his eyes.
He trailed
his fingertips down her arm to entwine his hand with hers. She smiled in
contentment and turned to him. He caught her honey gaze and poured all his love
into his silver eyes.
“Draco,
what is it?”
His other
hand cupped her cheek and he smiled lovingly.
“I love
you. With every fibre of my being,” he kissed her fingers, holding her gaze.
“Without you, I would still be adrift in a sea of emptiness,” wrapping his arms
around her waist, he held her close. “You tell me I’m strong and clever; you
say I’m true, and loving; you believe I’m one of a kind,” his lips brushed
hers, a brief fleeting kiss. “I may not see it, but I try to be that kind of man,
because you love me like I am.”
Her arms
slid up to his shoulders as tears gathered in her eyes.
“Hermione,”
Draco produced a deep green velvet box. She took it from his grasp as he bent
on a knee and became lost in her eyes. “Will you marry me?”
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