Disclaimer

I do not own any of the characters in the following chapter. Thank you.

In the previous chapter…

It was late evening by now, and Draco was still affected by the earlier encounter when he thought he had lost Hermione. The statement that made an impact on him was that remark about Hermione loving him too much to lose him. He didn't want to lose her, that was for sure, but Draco wasn't sure what he felt for her right now. Was it love? Or was it just an infatuation? Worst of all, when he had confirmed all these suspected emotions, what will happen from there?

At that time, he couldn't find the answer to Hermione's reply. It wasn't a question, but he knew that Hermione wanted to hear the same words repeated, only to her. Draco wasn't sure whether he could do it. Since he met Hermione on this isolated island, he wasn't sure of anything anymore. He found out that there was much to value about in life and Hermione would be one of them. At that time, he had simply smiled at her and walked back to his hut before he could catch a glimpse of what he was sure was hurt and disappointment. And if he saw the looks from Hermione's eyes, he didn't want to see them reflected in his.

He sat on the sand and was sure that Hermione was asleep by now. He was also sure that she had cried herself to sleep. He had heard the sobs and had tried his best to ignore them. But he just couldn't. Nor could he go over to soothe her sobs, as much as he wanted to. He knew that that would hurt her more than he already had.

So he just sat in the sand. He thought, and thought. Thinking, Hermione's favorite sport. And ironically, he was doing the exact same thing. He thought about his past, his present and his future. He didn't see his past with Hermione, he saw the present with her, but couldn't see it without her. It had to have her, and for that Draco would be grateful for. But he had said nothing instead, he had just walked off.

What the hell was wrong with him, he thought. He knew what he was afraid of, but he was even more scared to face it. For years to come, he wanted to face it. And if he had, he had always done it alone, without any help from anyone but his mother. But his mother had gotten a punishment that was much worse than whatever he got. He hated his father, hated the same blood that flowed inside his veins, hated the way his life was going and was probably going to go, and most of all, he hated himself for the person he was. He wanted to be loving and caring, giving Hermione all that she needed and wanted, for he knew that she deserved it. She most certainly did.

After all these incoherent thoughts, he still found that he couldn't bring himself to say the three words. He wasn't afraid of Hermione's reaction, he was afraid of his father and what he would do to her. She was Muggle-born, and Draco knew it perfectly well. He didn't care, he never did. It was his father that had hated them.

His father, his father, his father. All his thoughts had led to his father, and he still didn't know what to do about the issue.

Tomorrow. It would come sooner or later. Draco couldn't stop it, just like he couldn't stop the tides from flowing, the sun from rising and setting, the flowers from blooming and the snow from falling in winter. It will come. And Draco would have to face it, no matter how he did it.

Loving You

Draco tried avoiding Hermione's questions instead of facing them. He was too afraid to hear the lies that might be coming from his mouth, and was fearful of the reaction or feelings he would thus stir in Hermione.

He told Hermione he was going for a bath, but he spent a hell lot of time at the waterfall, even though he had lathered and rinsed himself numerous times. When he finally came out of his temporary hiding place, Draco put on his clothes and instead of going back to the beach, he wandered off to the other side of the island. As he walked, he thought about the problems he was facing again and again. And again and again, he just didn't seem to find any answers to them. Draco thought that his hair was going to come off in tufts if he continued to tug at them whenever he couldn't solve something.

He didn't know how far he had walked further inland when he saw something strange sitting there by itself. It was a trunk. In fact, as Draco inspected it further, he realized that it was the trunk, the one which Hermione had pulled in from the tides the other day. The other day… Draco sighed. It seemed like such a long time ago where Hermione was in his arms. Even though it was only for a day.

Bending down, he could see many scratches inflicted on the Yale lock itself. He fingered them, and would have smiled at the efforts put in if the efforts weren't done by Hermione herself. He sighed once more, and proceeded to unlock the lock. It was simple enough. Draco wondered why Hermione didn't know how to do it. Then he remembered that his father had been the one who taught him how to open locks like these. He said that it would be for further use, in case of inconveniences. Draco snorted. How could his pure and innocent Hermione know such underhand means to open locks?

Wait a minute. His Hermione? NOW what did that mean? Draco clenched his fists in damning frustration and he felt like shouting out loud.

He opened the lock easily and peered inside, expecting to see nothing. Or even if there was something, it would be some lost treasure that wouldn't be useful anymore in his era. His left eyebrow raised in disbelief as he saw what was truly inside the trunk.

It was definitely from their era. But it was so not appropriate.

It was a monkey suit and a ball gown.

He pulled the trunk back to the beach without much struggle. After all, he was much stronger than Hermione. He saw Hermione look quizzically at what he was doing, but dropped it as a look of pain and anguish crossed her face. Maybe she didn't look close or long enough, for she would have seen the same look flash across Draco's face, too.

The whole day, Draco didn't feel like eating. He didn't feel like thinking either. As a matter of fact, he didn't seem to want to do anything at all. Everything else seemed too strenuous right now.

For the entire day, from the moment the sun rose out and stretched its fiery and warm fingers through earth until the minute when the sun itself set from a whole day's hard work, Draco had managed to evade Hermione. Not that Hermione was initiating any talk in any way.

So he just shoved the gown into her hands and said simply, "For you."

She was just too hurt to speak. Every time she opened her mouth to talk to Draco, she felt this strange, yet familiar lump rise up in her throat. That lump alone, Hermione thought, was harder than stone; thicker than blood and viler than bile. (A/N: hey… vile… bile… it rhymes pretty nicely, huh?)

Some lump that she found extremely hard to swallow.

That night, however, Hermione finally forced that detestable lump down her throat and managed to make it stay there as she spoke her first sentence in that whole day.

Draco watched warily as Hermione moved slowly towards him and whispered her greeting in soft, feathery words.

"Hey."

Draco couldn't trust his voice to speak normally, so he just gave a small nod to acknowledge that greeting.

"Would you wear that monkey suit?"

Draco felt his jaw drop open. What? Her first sentence to him and that was it? No "I've missed you" or anything? But then again, Draco had never told her that kind of stuff.

"No," Draco all but shouted his denial.

Hermione cringed at the blasphemy he muttered under his breath, and for a moment, she thought that that particular lump was going to arise again. "It's the last thing I'm asking you to do for me. Just the last one."

Maybe it was the sadness in her voice that made Draco soften his tone. Maybe it was her face that was full of hope and faith that made him wonder. Maybe it was her that made him say yes.

"Oh, all right. But just this once." But Hermione was somewhat satisfied at that answer. She just couldn't manage the issue of bubbling happiness right now.

Hermione never thought that this day would come, where Draco and her would wear formal gowns and suits together. Just the two of them.

She always thought that a man would look more handsome in a white tie and tails than anything.

Draco looked better that that, so much better, that words like 'ravishing' or 'stunning' wasn't enough to express the rugged good looks he created. He was tall, and the black coat made him look even taller, leaner. The white shirt against his now tanned skin gave it a more rugged and earthy appeal. The white tie was slung around the shirt collar and the shirt was undone with buttonholes on both pockets. There were no studs. But even if there were some of them, it wouldn't diminish the good looks Draco had.

It was an odd mix. The fine precise quality of dress clothes and the hard ruggedness of the man himself. Together, they made a rather formidable presence.

He crossed the beach and just stood in front of her. She looked absolutely stunning in that silky rose-colored fabric. It provided a modest neckline which didn't show too much, but just enough to make Draco stare, and the dress promptly ended at Hermione's slender ankles. The sleeves were up to her elbows, and the waistline of the dress made Hermione's waist look smaller than usual. Hermione wore no shoes and right now, her toes were gently probing into wet sand.

"Thank you," she whispered, giving Draco a small, sad but nonetheless misty smile, that made Draco a little crazy for her. All right, maybe not just a little, but right now, a little was all that Draco was willing to admit.

"For what?"

Hermione touched his chest and that simple action made him feel like he was going over the moon.

"For wearing the suit," Hermione replied simply.

Instead of replying to that remark, Draco steered away from the original topic and started a new one.

"You look beautiful in that dress," he thought aloud and didn't realize that until Hermione looked up at him smiled the same smile she had given him previously before.

"I do?"

"Yes, you do."

Then the both of them didn't know what else to say anymore. Hermione thought she would break down sooner or later if she had to just stand in front of him and not say anything rational. Hell, she couldn't even think rationally now.

She was about to go back to her own hut and end the whole night just like that when Draco tugged at one of her sleeves gently and pulled her back.

"Dance with me," Draco whispered. That wasn't what he wanted to say! He just wanted to say he was sorry. Why did he have to go and ask her to dance with him? Damn, but he was making the matter more complicated than he would ever know it. But now, he couldn't take whatever he said back.

Hermione looked up at him with signs of tears at the back of her eyes when she said, "There's no music."

She's right, Draco thought, and I was stupid not to think of that. But once again, his actions contradicted his thoughts by pulling Hermione closer to him and holding by her waist, implying that it was all right without any music turned on. They could still dance.

Slowly and tentatively, they began to dance. There was no music at all. None, except for the swish-swash of the waves coming onto shore and going back into the sea, the quiet rustling of the dry leaves that had fulfilled their duty and had at last fluttered down to the ground for another obligation nature had planned for them to do. But to the both of them, that was enough, and they were contented with just the other in their arms.

For what seemed like such a short time, the both of them stopped their feet movements almost symmetrically and at the same time. Hermione looked up; Draco looked down. Then Hermione took one step closer and placed a hand on her chest. Draco hesitated for a few seconds before placing his over hers. He raised his other hand and touched her lips with one finger. Neither of them said a thing. They didn't need to.

He slid his hand along her jaw line and they both smiled at the same time.

Draco watched her smile and almost laughed out loud at himself for he knew of the power she had created in him with that smile. Part of him was also glad that she herself didn't understand that kind of power she had with that one smile of hers.

But after a moment, Draco's gaze caught hers. There was a long tense pause while they stared at each other. Her smile faded.

He knew. She knew.

Nothing else mattered. It didn't matter that the lagoon shone a lustery black in the night. It didn't matter that a breath of night wind made the palm fronds whisper to each other. Nothing mattered then but what they felt for each other – something that was no word for. Emotion so strong it had no name.

Draco took her tiny hand in his and they turned and walked in silence along the sand where the moonlight turned their steps silver. The waves were breaking with a bolder sound, a boom, a rush, and foamy whoosh. And as those waves broke, thousands of red colored sea creatures glimmered in the subtle light, glowed as if there were fire in the waves.

Draco held her soft hand as they walked, and he never let go. He didn't dare to, he was afraid that he might never get to hold it once he let go. There was nothing around them but the wind and the sea and a wealth of emotion and awareness of each other.

His senses were keen. With each breath of the tirades, her scent came alive. It was suddenly all around him, that female smell that made him damn glad that he was a man.

He could sense it above the brine of the sea, above the earthy smell of the wet sand and the shore. He was only aware of her. Just her.

Her touch. Her profile. Her walk. The way the ball gown rustled against the side of his leg.

And even God in all names had no doubt that Hermione was only aware of him. Just him.

She suddenly stopped in her tracks and whispered sadly to Draco.

"Remember what you said about not being able to run worth a damn?" Draco nodded and Hermione continued with equal sadness in her voice.

"Well you're wrong, Draco. You run away from your problems better than anyone I have ever known."

With that, she wriggled her hand free and started walking towards her own hut.

Draco sighed and felt the tears burning at the back of his eyes. He never cried. Not even when his father had beaten him to a pathetic pulp. Not even then had he shed a tear. Now, he just felt like crying out every damned strained emotion he felt inside of him.

But those tears proved to be useful, they made him think clearer, somehow. Draco thought about the days he and Hermione had since the first day they had met on this deserted island. Their feelings were as isolated as the island was, unaware of each other. Draco realized then that for most of the time, Hermione had been contributing, and he had always been the one pushing himself and her away.

For every single day since he met her and was aware of what he felt for her, he thought of different reasons that he would somehow recite to himself every morning, just to make himself feel the way he wanted to.

For the first day, he thought it was just the need to have someone to accompany him through the boring days on the island. For that day, that reason seemed sufficient enough.

For the second day, he thought that it was just that Hermione was pretty enough to attract his attention. But that reason had died out when he realized that Hermione didn't even know that she was that pretty.

For the third day, he thought it was lust. Yes, at that time, lust seemed to be a perfect word to describe his feelings towards her. That he was being plain lustful every time he looked at her.

And it went on, for the rest of the days. The different reasons he had ranted on and on, just to convince himself more than anyone else in the world.

But today, right now, as he watched as Hermione made her way slowly towards her hut, what he saw wasn't the gentle swaying of her hips nor her long legs that seemed to go on forever. It was the image of her smile that he had seen. The smile she had given him when he had compromised and wore the suit, just for her.

Just then, he made his decision. And damn it if it wasn't the most important decision in his life. He knew he was being impulsive, but hell, he didn't care anymore.

He ran towards her hut and saw her trembling in the dark. Draco wondered if it was due to the cool breezes or due to the fact that she might be crying.

She turned around as soon as she sensed his presence and didn't even bother to wipe her tears when she saw him. What was the point, she thought. It was practically pointless.

Draco stopped and smiled down at her, then pulled her to him. He threaded his fingers through hers and held her hands up as he slid his other arm around her lower back. For a moment, Hermione had stiffened to his response. But his touch was suddenly so familiar that Hermione's body didn't comply with her mind's instructions and it relaxed comfortably against his.

They sensed when to look at each other, and both did at the same moment. Whether it was in their eyes or in their minds, they knew. Almost as if at that moment in time, they were one.

Draco looked over her head and stared out at the sea for a moment that he thought he needed. It was a little confusing, all this… stuff in his gut that he'd never experienced. It wasn't easy for him to accept either.

But then he looked down at her, looked deep into her chocolate brown eyes, and his doubts washed away.

"This time…" he whispered so softly that Hermione had to lean forward to hear him totally. "I'm not running away."

Then he touched her cheek, and let his hand drift to her neck. Her pulse pounded like the surf. He leaned down and kissed her gently in a way he'd never kissed a girl before. He wasn't taking anything. Just touching her mouth to his. He pulled back and watched her.

Her breathing was husky and abrupt, like his. In her eyes, he saw the same raw emotion that was eating at him. A need that was something physical.

It was hard to tell who made the first move. He reached out for her and she for him. He lowered his head. Then she was in his arms, her body, that soft, female body that was against his.

He kissed her again. Kissed her as he'd never kissed a girl. Kissed her as if she mattered. Because she did.

A/N: this is it. the end of the end. =) I finished the story! Hooray ~ So how was the ending? The last chapter? Good? Or really, did it suck to the core? I hope not. =) But I think the ending was pretty sweet, if u ask me. I really hope that it was good enough for u guys ~ Please, read and review ~ Thank you all so much, for following the story until this very last chapter! Maybe I'll write a serial for this. I don't know. It all depends on the outcome of the reviews, I guess. =) So… review… review… and review! =)