Full disclosure: I've never set foot int Heathrow. I did my best based on the features of most airports I've been in, international included. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this one. Please read and review!

The Airport

Draco Malfoy stood just outside the sliding glass doors of Heathrow Airport's main entrance. He stepped to the side at least ten minutes ago when he realized he was in the way. He'd stopped cold when those doors slid open and closed on their own. Muggle technology was still something he was learning to navigate.

The January air was frigid and his nose and ears were pink. However, his heart was thumping like a drum in his chest. He wasn't known for his bravery. Self-preservation, certainly, but not for being brave. However, he'd managed to hold his head high when the fiasco hit the papers. Rita Skeeter had gotten her headline and he'd been helpless to stop it.

He drew a deep breath and felt the cold sting his lungs. It felt like tiny shards of ice attaching to the organs with every inhale. His palms were sweaty inside the dragonhide leather of his gloves. His scarf did little to keep his throat warm against the cold. He was a series of juxtapositions.

With a surge of hope and false confidence, he lifted his left hand from his pocket and turned his wrist to see his watch. It wasn't horribly gaudy or extravagant like the thing his mother had gifted him when he turned twenty-one. This one was elegant but simple. Just further proof that the giver had excellent taste.

If what he'd discerned from his bungled foray into checking the flight schedule, he wasn't too late yet. In fact, he was still a little early. With another of those icy breaths, he finally joined the foot traffic and slipped past the sliding doors. Muggles milled all around him. Rushing in clusters towards ticket counters and up sets of strange moving stairs, dragging rolling luggage behind them or slumping under the weight of bags hanging from their shoulders.

He stepped up with those that weren't rushing. Those whose necks were tilted back to view the long list of flights. This was far more straightforward than he'd imagined. Departure locations and arrival times. Blinking notices that said 'delayed', 'in flight', 'on time', or 'arrived'.

His eyes tracked the line for Paris all the way to the end where it said 'in flight'. He blinked his eyes and suddenly the notice changed to 'arrived'.

"You look pale, mate."

Draco blinked and tilted his head down to the shorter man at his side. He was balding down the middle and dressed in an ill-fitted suite under his worn coat. The gut urge for his lips to pull back in a sneer never surfaced.

He swallowed instead. "I'm always rather pale. The cold doesn't help."

The man chuckled like it as the funniest thing he'd ever heard and slapped Draco good-naturedly on the shoulder as he walked past.

Draco's brows drew together at the odd familiarity. He'd met enough muggles by now to know that not everyone was quite so jovial and friendly with a stranger.

"Odd bloke," he muttered.

He shook his head and glanced around. He saw a man standing behind the ticket counter with no line. When he stepped up to him, the bloke lifted a curious brow when Draco just stood there.

"Err, can I help you, sir?"

Draco swallowed again and his tongue felt heavy in his mouth. "I apologize if this is a stupid question but where would I need to be if I'm meeting someone just arriving?"

The man arched a curious brow and pointed over Draco's shoulder. "Baggage claim down that way would be the best place. All arriving travelers will be coming down that escalator."

Fucking hell. Another word he had no context for.

"Escalator?"

Now both of the man's brows rose. "Yeah, the moving stairs." He looked Draco over from head to toe. "You never been in an airport before? Cause you look life you've got money to fly."

The more he spoke the more Draco detected a different accent. Londoners. They confused the hell out of him.

"Afraid not. My family has...other means of travel." He tipped his head in a nod. "Thanks."

He turned and left before he could stick his foot in his mouth. It was easier when he didn't have to navigate the muggle places alone. When someone was there to tell him what to expect and explain the things he'd not been exposed to until he was an adult.

It was a longer walk than he'd anticipated to the baggage claim. The airport was also larger than he'd originally thought. He still couldn't quite fathom why anyone would want to travel this way but at twenty-six, he'd become a lot better at not speaking his questions aloud before he had time to think them through.

He found a space directly in front of the escalator but far enough back to not be in the way. The strange moving shelf not far away kept moving in circles and sometimes bags would appear before someone grabbed one.

The icy fire that had consumed his lungs outside was gone now and beneath his black coat he was starting to sweat. He knew he only had one chance at this. If he bungled it, it was over.

He checked his watch again and rocked back on his heels, impatience beginning to set in. He'd rehearsed his speech probably fifty times last night but he was beginning to lose the words.

Something in his chest tightened and as if he'd read his morning tea leaves, his eyes tracked to the top of the escalator on instinct.

There she was.

She was wild curls and pink cheeks. A small figure with sad eyes.

Despite her laughter as she turned to speak to her mother on the step just behind her, he could see it in her eyes even from where he stood. And she'd not seen him yet. Was his presence going to make it worse?

Nearly to the bottom of the escalator, she turned and glanced down. Brown met grey and his heartrate kicked up a beat. Her expression didn't change and he took that as a positive sign that perhaps she didn't hate just the sight of him.

Mrs. Granger saw him next and her mouth dipped into a deep frown. She leaned forward to whisper something in her daughter's ear and his gut began to tie itself into a knot. He drew a deep breath and decided it was best not to rush to her. If she didn't approach him then he'd have his answer and just go.

However, once they were at the bottom, he watched her mother take Hermione's purse before she threw him a scathing look on her way to the baggage claim.

Fuck. She knew. Of course, she knew but he'd only just met the woman before all hell broke loose. He wasn't even sure she actually liked him after that first meeting, too affected by the past.

Hermione was wearing the grey Burberry coat he'd given her for her birthday in September, marking six months since he'd first asked her to dinner. Five months since he'd moved them past the barrier of friendship and kissed her on her doorstep. One month since he'd told her he loved her. And now, at January, they were nine months into a relationship that until only two weeks ago the public didn't even know about.

Her all black attire under her coat and the military-looking black boots she'd once referred to as Doc Martens—what the hell did a muggle doctor have to do with military boots anyway—gave her a stern look. He wasn't stupid enough to piss her off further when she looked like this.

Draco watched as the tip of her tongue darted out to wet her lower lip and she stuck her hands in her coat pockets. She stood far enough away that she didn't need to tilt her head back so dramatically to meet his eyes.

"Why are you here, Draco?"

He drew a breath and realized that the entirety of the speech he'd rehearsed was gone. He was going to have to rely on instinct. Bugger.

"I love you."

Her eyes narrowed, crinkling at the edges. "Try again. Because as of two weeks ago I gave you a choice and you didn't say a word."

If looks could kill, he would have been dead.

"I told my parents, Hermione."

"I think the Prophet leaked that for you after that reporter caught Ron fighting with you in middle of Diagon Alley that night." She rolled her eyes and made to turn away. His hands shot out and grabbed her shoulders, a wild, desperate look in his eyes. The first crack in his normally stony veneer.

"No! No, I told them. After I missed you at your flat and flew with your mother to France, I went to the manor and I told them...about us."

She swallowed and took a step back, forcing his hands to drop to his sides. "And?"

This was the hard part. The part he didn't like. Where no matter what he did, he couldn't make everything right.

"My father and I aren't speaking." He lifted his shoulders. "It changes nothing because he can't touch my vaults but I've been cut off from the floo and the wards no longer recognize me."

Hermione's eyes dropped to the hard floor beneath their feet and she crossed her arms over her chest. "I'm sure he'll come around now that we're no longer together."

His heart seized but he wasn't done. "I don't care. I chose you."

She shook her head. "Look, I know you have a bit of a jealous streak but I'm not going to have dinner with Ron like he asked. That's been long dead for years and he's just rebounding after Lavender. Finding out that you and I had been together for so long, he just lost his temper."

Draco scoffed but kept his jaw locked so he couldn't say anything. Losing his temper was putting it mildly. The bastard had sucker punched him on the street while he'd been out buying a Christmas present for her. How unfortunate that she'd taken that last day of work before the holidays off to do the same for him and they'd run into one another. Everything had unrolled like a messily wrapped gift.

Some of his old stubborn self-entitlement took hold and he took a step closer. "Did you expect him to be here for you and not me?"

Her cheeks flushed crimson and she didn't meet his eyes. "Yes, actually. He's just passed his driving test and offered to pick us up."

"So, you've been writing him letters these last two weeks but ignoring mine?"

This would normally be the part where she would shut him up with a kiss. She wasn't wrong about his slight jealousy but he was also easily quelled. When she wound her arms tighter across her chest, he knew that wasn't going to happen.

"Draco, don't do this. He and I have been friends half our lives and I'm lucky he and Harry are even speaking to me after this."

"Red knew." He wasn't going down without a fight. "She knew about us."

Her eyes flashed dangerously when she met his. "Yes, because she found out by accident. If we'd not been snogging on my sofa, I imagine you'd have tried to pretend there was something else going on. I told you even before that night that I was sick of being your dirty little secret. You can't say you love me and then hide us from the world. I'm not going to live like that."

"I know," he nodded. "Because you want marriage. And a home. Two children, at most," he rolled his eyes remembering her words, "and you want to keep your surname and continue your work rolling back the unnecessary restrictions on werewolves and such. I know, Hermione."

The fire in her eyes had died and they were back to being sad. "And you can't give me that, Draco. I know that now. Trust me. I feel foolish enough thinking maybe one day you'd realize you loved me enough to stop hiding from our past. To tell your parents about us. To move forward."

The hope in his chest was flickering like a candle trying to stand up to the wind. One last try to get through.

"You haven't asked what my mother said."

She sighed tiredly. "Does it matter?"

"Ask me."

She lifted a hand to swipe at her eyes. Moisture was collecting there and he felt the metaphorical knife that had been in his heart since the day she left twist.

"What did your mother say, Draco?"

Draco pulled each of his gloves from his hands and tucked them away in one of his pockets. She tried to resist when he reached for her hands but finally relented when he didn't give up.

"She said that I need a wife who's intelligent. Someone who can tolerate my moodiness. A witch with enough gumption to stand up to the stodgiest of purebloods. Someone who cares about others. A woman who knows who she is and isn't afraid of anything."

There was more moisture gathering in her eyes but he wasn't sure if it was his words or her lingering resentment causing it. He pulled one hand away and dug into his pocket. Desperate times call for desperate measures, and he was a desperate and sorry man.

"I was never ashamed of you, Hermione. I was scared of how other people would react. I stupidly thought I was protecting you but the deeper I fell, the more I realized I couldn't hide us forever." He lifted his fisted hand from his pocket and took a breath. "I don't want you just for now. I want you forever. I can give you those things you want. I want them for you and with you."

Hermione squeezed the one hand he still held and used the other to cover her mouth as he sank down on one knee.

Draco managed to flip the small box open with one hand. "My mother went with me to the family jeweler to pick this out. I've been miserable these past two weeks without you. I know for certain that I could never live without you. Marry me, Hermione?"

He held her trembling hand in his. Proposing marriage in an airport full of muggles wasn't exactly how he'd imagined doing this but that had all been thrown out the window when he screwed things up. This wasn't about his pride. This had everything to do with his heart.

"Draco, I..." She swallowed and nodded.

"Yes?" He breathed. "You're saying yes?"

A strangled laugh accompanied her nodding head. "Yes, you prat. Yes, I'll marry you."

"Thank Merlin!"

Draco wasted no time in slipping the ring on her finger before he stood and took her head in hands to kiss her.

He paid no mind to the people around them clapping. He was far too focused on snogging his fiancé senseless. He would have succeeded if someone didn't interrupt them with a very insistent clearing of their throat.

Hermione pushed at his chest until he pulled back. He nearly jumped out of his skin when he spotted her mother standing there with their luggage, arms crossed and tapping one of her feet.

"Am I to assume that I no longer have to watch as you burn all of the gifts he ever gave you?" Mrs. Granger arched a brow when her gaze fell on him. "You've a lot of making up to do, young man."

He swallowed and allowed Hermione to pull from his grasp.

"I brought my car to drive you home."

Mrs. Granger's jaw fell open. "You have a car?"

Draco's eyes tracked to Hermione's and a small smirk finally returned to his mouth. "Weasley's not the only one that can learn to drive."

Hermione's expression mirrored her mother's. "You said cars were a death trap and you'd sooner fling yourself at the whomping willow!"

He shrugged and reached to take the handle of both of their suitcases. He urged them to follow him with a nudge of his chin.

"I did but I've been an idiot in the past, we can both agree, but I'm capable of learning. I took the test over a month ago. I was going to surprise you but...well..."

Needless to say, when Ron turned up only twenty minutes later and found that not only had Hermione and her mum arrived, but that they'd already left, he was confused and a bit irate. When an article hit the Prophet the next morning featuring a picture of Hermione and Draco getting ice cream later that night, it was the diamond ring on her left ring finger which informed him that not only was he too late but that he'd lost.

As the story went, Draco Malfoy had spilled his heart out in front of a bunch muggles in the middle of an airport. No one could possibly compete with that.