Although Hermione knew how well she and Draco got on as friends, it had been reassuring that they were able to slip, almost seamlessly, into a romantic relationship. She didn't doubt her feelings for him, but they'd been friends for so long that she wondered whether it might simply feel too platonic.

Those doubts had been well and truly quashed after their first night together—and the subsequent rounds that had followed the next morning—and it had become apparent after the first month that their desire for one another wasn't a mere passing fancy.

When they had shown up at an outing together, officially, Harry had released a great sigh of relief before flashing her a roguish grin.

Hermione had begun to memorise the feel of Draco's hand in hers, his arms around her—the softness of his kisses and the touch of his hands on her skin. She couldn't remember the last time she had been so happy.

They hadn't brought up the topic of their soon-impending marriage again since that first night out, but Hermione no longer dreaded the idea of the vow. She knew she wanted Draco by her side for the rest of her life, and the vow would only ensure that happened.

Feet pounding the cobbled walking path around the backside of Diagon Alley, she slowed to a walk, catching her breath from a brisk jog. A chill had begun to seep into the air and she'd taken to bundling up more before a run.

The convenience of the matter was that the apothecary was only a short trip from Gringotts, so she was often able to visit him on her lunch break. Rounding the shop, she slipped through the front door, the soft tinkling of the bell overhead announcing her presence.

Draco had spent the last month working with Mister Matias to ensure the transition went as smoothly as possible, but as of several days prior the apothecary had transferred fully into his ownership.

An absent smile played about her lips as she strolled the aisles, finding Draco near the counter with a box of assorted vials as he stared at a cabinet of pre-made potions.

"Hi," she said softly, walking up alongside and peering in.

Draco flashed her a winning grin before ducking in and planting a lingering kiss on her lips.

"Oy!" Theo exclaimed, "some of us just ate lunch."

Rolling his eyes, Draco waved Theo away and deepened the kiss, drawing her into his arms. When he drew back with a smirk, Hermione was caught in his stare for a moment.

Theo scoffed, leaning back against the counter with his arms folded. "Hullo Hermione, good to see you."

"And you," Hermione returned, taking a look around the shop. "It looks like everything's coming together."

"Nearly," Draco replied, placing a few more vials onto the shelf. Then he reached back towards the counter, handing her an issue of Witch Weekly.

Hermione wasn't surprised to see a photograph of the pair of them on the front and she released a low snort. "Again? That's two in a row—it's like we're celebrities or something."

Snickering, Draco shook his head. "Right? Eventually you'd think they'll find something more interesting to talk about than the pair of us."

The gossip rag had had a field day when word got out that the pair of them were finally romantically involved, after years of speculation about the matter. Though Hermione typically rolled her eyes and avoided the reporters, she didn't mind. Draco had always been self-deprecating enough about their friendship, and she didn't want him to doubt their relationship.

She was proud of how far he had come and didn't care who knew about her feelings for him.

"I doubt it," Theo quipped, snatching the periodical from her hand. "Look here—you're inspiring other people to date for love rather than status."

Hermione frowned, the bridge of her nose wrinkling. "It says that?"

Theo offered a grimace, his brows high. "We never said it was quality journalism."

Swiping the magazine from Theo's hands, Draco peered closer. "Whoever wrote this is a massive fucking spoon. Obviously Hermione has more status than I ever could."

One page of the article featured a full-colour image of the two of them, out for a walk along the wizarding high street, Draco's arms around her as they spoke to one another. Without any further regard for the article, she tore the page free and tucked it into her bag, flashing the pair of them a tight smile.

"So," Theo prompted, blowing his fringe out of his eyes, "I've been telling Draco, but for some reason he doesn't care, so—"

Draco released an aggravated sigh, even as his lips twitched. "Theo, go check on the potions."

"So I'll tell you as well," Theo said, shoving Draco aside, "that I'm an accomplished florist."

Gaping, Hermione's gaze slid between them. Theo wore a wide grin as Draco eyed him with disdain. Blinking several times, she said, "A florist?"

"Yes. You know—bouquets and the like."

Heat clawed up her throat, edging into her face as she carefully avoided Draco's stare. "Oh, right, that's—that's good to know, thanks Theo."

Theo offered a solemn nod.

"We aren't really considering those sorts of things just yet," she managed around a grimace. "You know, given we aren't… engaged."

Dragging a hand along the back of his neck, Draco added, "Since we've only been dating a month."

"Furthermore," Theo barrelled on, "I'll need some time off, of course, but I've planned more than a few large-scale events in my days."

"No you haven't," Draco scoffed, a knit in his brows when she glanced his way. "When have you planned an event?" He paused for a moment then added, "Slytherin dorm parties don't count."

Theo scowled.

"Anyways," Hermione interrupted, her voice coming out a little breathy, "these are wonderful things to know for the future. Thanks, Theo."

"I'm also supposed to tell you Harry's been cooking a lot, and he thinks he could make a good caterer."

The three of them blinked at one another for a long moment before Hermione shifted into Draco's side, wishing she could melt into the floor as he coiled an arm around her.

She'd seen Harry prepare simultaneously burnt and runny eggs.

Rarely was Draco lost for words but he only stared at the wall, his lips pursed and twisted to the side.

"Something to think about." Theo flashed them a wide grin, oblivious to the awkward air in the room, and added, "Are you both coming over this weekend?"

Latching on to the change in topic with borderline desperation, Hermione offered a voracious nod. "Yes certainly." Draco only gave a weak nod.

"Excellent." Clapping his hands together, Theo rushed off to the back where Hermione knew they worked on brewing the pre-made potions.

Cautiously, she turned to face Draco and blew out a long breath. "That was interesting."

He swept a hand through his hair, looking a little green. "He means well, he's just a little… overzealous." His eyes slid to meet hers and he added, "Maybe we should be considering these things. I'll be thirty in a little over seven months."

"Maybe we should," she allowed.

He shook his head, leaning back against the counter and folding his arms. "I don't want us to get married because we have to but because we want to."

"It doesn't have to be one or the other," she mused quietly. "Maybe the vow is forcing our hand, sure, but we might never have realised how much we cared about one another if we hadn't been forced to come to terms with it. I want to marry you and I don't care if it's a big event or if we hire a fancy caterer or anything like that."

Draco planted a kiss to her temple, idly toying with her curls. "Maybe you're right." He gave a low chuckle. "Can you imagine how affronted my mother would be if we asked Theo to do the flowers instead of her?"

"I'm just trying to imagine where Theo learned anything about flowers in the first place," she retorted.

From everything she'd heard of the man's upbringing, she couldn't imagine where flowers had played a significant role.

Fidgeting with his tie, Hermione leaned in. "It isn't a bad idea, you know—if we decide to have a small wedding—to let our friends help."

"I'm not trusting anything Potter cooks," Draco deadpanned.

"Neither." She nearly flinched at the thought.

He wrapped his arms around her back, tugging her closer, and said, "If you want something small, we'll do something small." Pressing his lips to hers, he murmured, "But you still need to let me propose first."

"Deal." With a smile, she pulled back, checking her watch. "I'd better get back to work. And I almost forgot—Luther asked me to pick up some Agrippa."

Draco scoffed, giving her arse a squeeze before stepping away. "Tell Luther he can come get his own Agrippa. He hasn't seen the place since we took it over."

Giving him another soft kiss, her tongue grazing his for just a moment, she breathed, "I'll let him know." She shouldered her pack, meeting his eyes with a soft, "See you later?"

Draco's new schedule at the apothecary meant he wasn't available as readily in the evenings and he was often worn out after a full day, especially with transitioning ownership, but she still managed to see him several times a week.

His grey eyes flashed. "Absolutely. I'll Floo in after I'm done here."

With a grin, Hermione called towards the back, "Bye, Theo!"

A loud clattering of what sounded like a cauldron meeting the floor came back towards her, and Draco's eyes widened as he ducked away into the lab.

Smiling, Hermione carried on.

Hermione had always been one to keep busy, and only rarely did occasion arise to stop and look around her, taking it all in.

Winter had crept in, almost without her notice, covering the ground in a coating of fine white powder, and before she knew it Christmas had arrived.

She and Draco had been together for three months, and as far as Hermione could tell, she felt like they'd been dating for years. Existing together had already been second nature, and she only found herself falling deeper in love with him as the weeks passed.

If there was one thing she knew about Draco since they'd become friends, it was that he loved Christmas.

His father had never been overly keen on the idea of celebrating the holiday, but Draco and his mother had established a tradition of decorating a tree together when he was young which he still carried on as an adult, even though his mother was still living in the villa in Portugal.

The pair of them would be going to visit her at New Years, but Christmas would be just them, and a gathering with their friends the next day.

When Hermione had come to his flat one day in the middle of the month, she'd been astounded to find no fewer than six extravagantly decorated Christmas trees around the large space, and Draco himself with his hair dishevelled and eyes bloodshot.

As she'd looked around, brows wide with astonishment, he'd flashed a grin and held his hands up as if to show off his handiwork.

There were at least three trees more than she could remember from the year prior.

On Christmas Eve, Draco had decided to keep the apothecary open into the evening but sent Theo home to spend the time with Harry, and Hermione found herself lingering in the shop with him, watching as he assisted the occasional customer. But there were few patrons, and shortly after dinner time Draco locked the doors and turned towards her, a curious smile tugging at his lips.

"Did I tell you I'm cooking Christmas dinner tomorrow?"

Brows flickering with idle surprise, she shook her head. "You didn't. Should I be worried?"

Draco's eyes narrowed as he murmured, "Let's hope not."

He wasn't the most proficient chef, though he was able to manage living on his own. One of the Manor elves Apparated in once a week to tidy his large flat but otherwise he looked after himself. Hermione had learned to accept it since she knew Draco treated the elf well and offered him a small salary.

Of course, the idea of preparing a full holiday spread was daunting even to Hermione, who grew up assisting her parents with the task. Christmas always made her think of them, and the life they'd chosen to carry on with in Australia.

Stepping closer, she wound her arms around his back, peering up at him. Draco swept a hand through her curls, holding her stare as she said, "I'll be around to help."

"You're going to relax," he breathed, lips brushing against hers, "and let me spoil you."

Hermione scoffed, even as her heart stuttered in her chest. "You know I don't do well with sitting idle while someone else does all the work."

"I know." He offered her a teasing smile, dragging a hand down to her hip and hitching her towards him. "Are you staying over tonight?"

It was a bit of a rhetorical question, given she'd been spending the nights at his more often than not lately, but she chewed her lip as she nodded. "If that's alright."

"More than," he clipped. "We'll stop for take away? What do you feel like?"

Leaning in, she pressed another soft kiss to his lips and murmured, "You choose."

"I think I feel like Thai tonight." Flashing her a grin, he said, "Let's go."

Hermione rolled over, eyes drifting open as she slowly awoke. She was wrapped in Draco's embrace, pressed against his bare chest, and he stirred with her movement, his grey eyes finding hers.

"Morning," he drawled, burying his face into his pillow so that his next words came out muffled. "Happy Christmas."

"Happy Christmas," she echoed, brushing a kiss to his jaw.

Tightening his hold on her, he released a long breath, lips curling with a smile. "It's just occurred to me," he said quietly, "that this is how I'm going to wake up every Christmas for the rest of my life."

Although she had known him so well for so long, every so often Draco still said something that completely caught her off guard. Hermione felt the hot sting of moisture at the backs of her eyes as her heart clenched in her chest.

Tucking herself tighter into his hold, she breathed, "Not necessarily. If we have kids one day I doubt we'll get to sleep in peacefully."

She hadn't seen the time, but judging by how late they'd stayed up the night before, combined with how refreshed she felt, Hermione could only imagine they'd had a lie-in, something she rarely allowed herself to do.

Draco chuckled, rolling onto his back and pulling her with him; she made herself comfortable again using his arm as a pillow, eyes sliding to meet his. Wryly, he said, "That's probably true."

They hadn't discussed the topic in any serious capacity, but she knew they were both on the same page about children—eventually. Especially since they were both still relatively fresh in their given career paths, they were in agreement there wasn't any rush.

Threading her hands through his hair, Hermione pressed her lips against his. Drawing back, she whispered, "I love you."

His expression softened, the way it always did when she spoke her feelings aloud, and he brushed the pad of his thumb across her cheekbone. "And I love you. Now get up—you're wasting the day."

A slow smile crept across her face. "And apparently, you've got a turkey to overcook."

His answering grimace sowed more doubt than it relieved.

Several hours later, Draco looked more frazzled than Hermione had ever seen him as he stared around the disaster that had formerly been his kitchen. His hair was a mess and his grey eyes wild as he peered at her across the flat, where she was perched on the sofa with a book and a cup of tea.

Snickering, Hermione turned the page in her book and announced, "I was told you didn't need my help."

"I don't," he managed through an uneasy frown. "And in fact, I have a better idea." Folding his arms, and rolling his eyes towards the ceiling, he drawled, "Emerson."

Moments later, with a loud crack, Emerson appeared in the flat, large eyes bulging even wider as he took in the chaos surrounding them. "Master Draco," the elf squeaked, "what has you done?"

Draco offered a weak chuckle, waving his hands vaguely towards several half-prepared dishes. Biting down hard on her bottom lip to refrain from laughing, Hermione watched the spectacle as the elf's chest lifted and fell with heaving breaths.

"He's trying to prepare Christmas dinner, Emerson," Hermione offered, leaning her elbow on the back of the sofa. "And he won't accept my help."

The overwhelmed elf managed a belated nod, drawing in a long breath—for what Hermione could only surmise was courage—before he clapped his hands together with a toothy grin and announced, "Emerson will be happy to help!"

With a tight smile, Draco bit out, "Thank you Emerson."

"Yes," the elf said, waving a hand, "Master Draco must take a shower."

Peering down at himself, then casting her a disgruntled stare, he acquiesced, vanishing into the loo. Hermione giggled to herself, brandished her cup at Emerson who offered another wide grin as he set to work, and returned to her book.

By the time Draco emerged twenty minutes later, looking significantly refreshed, Emerson had not only managed to wrangle his partially completed meal, but the rest of the kitchen was spotless.

Hermione was on her second cup of tea when he sunk into the sofa beside her, shifting her legs across his lap.

"The point is," she mused, sipping her tea, "you tried."

"Points for trying?" he drawled, meeting her eye. "Not many, of course. At least you and I both know Emerson will make something edible."

"True," Hermione said, tilting her head in consideration. "Whereas otherwise, we couldn't be sure."

He nudged her in the ribs with his elbow. "Smartarse. Come for a walk with me?"

Smiling, she returned a quiet, "Of course."

It was a chilly day but the sun was out, the sky clear and blue overhead. The usual bustle of the area was absent, the air blanketed with a peaceful stillness in the same way a soft layer of fresh snow coated the ground.

As they walked, Draco slipped his hands into the pockets of his jeans, a pensive frown tugging at his lips.

Hermione eyed him for a moment, snagging her bottom lip between her teeth. "Is something the matter?"

He glanced her way, surprise flitting across his features, before he relaxed. "No, of course not." After a brief hesitation, he added, "Colder than I thought it was." He blew into his palms, rubbing his bare hands together, before slinging an arm around her and dragging her close. "Thank you for spending Christmas with me."

"Where else would I be?" she mused, tucking closer into his hold.

His brows only flickered and he glanced away. "I know you haven't been to visit your parents in a while."

It was true, but partly because she hadn't been keen to ask for a week off when she'd been settling into her new position at Gringotts. And there was the small fact that she might be getting married inside of the next six months.

"I'll arrange something soon," she said at last, quietly as she glanced his way again. "Are you sure you're alright? You're acting very strange."

His lips curled up into a cautious smile. "I'm great."

He stopped, leaning against a railing that enclosed a small pond, frozen with the winter, and casually entwined their fingers. Gazing idly sideways, he spoke so quietly she nearly had to strain to hear him.

"I know things have been unconventional between us for a while," he said, his thumb grazing the back of her hand, even as his eyes remained fixed elsewhere. "And I want you to know that where we're at now—I wouldn't have it any other way."

In her chest, Hermione's heart stuttered a beat before carrying on, and she managed a thick swallow. "What are you getting at?"

"I just…" he dragged a hand through his hair, ruffling it out of place. "Obviously there's this blasted vow to deal with and I wish it wasn't a consideration because I need you to know—" He cut himself off, his eyes finally seeking out her own. "I love you. And it isn't because I feel like I should or because we don't have a choice in the matter—"

Hermione found herself caught in his stare, her lips parting to speak, but instantly she snapped it shut again. Draco had such a way with words that he rarely fumbled or misspoke, and it was disarming to see.

At last she whispered, "I love you, too."

Drawing a deep breath, he thinned his lips before going on. "It's because you're everything to me. You have been for so long, it just took me a long time to realise the truth of the matter." A furrow knit his brow and he shook his head gently. "I can't imagine not having you at my side."

"Draco," Hermione breathed, her eyes stinging with emotion as his words seeped beneath her skin, setting her blood racing in her veins. "You're the only one I want, and I don't give a damn about any vow."

The slightest hint of a smile twitched at the corner of his mouth as something flickered in his gaze. He fumbled a hand in his pocket, drawing out a small box within his fingers.

Hermione wasn't certain whether her heart didn't stop for a breath.

"Here's what I know," he breathed, fidgeting idly with the box, "about vows." He snapped open the box, revealing a gorgeous ring, white gold with an intricate series of ornate gemstones surrounding a shimmering diamond. Briefly she wondered whether it was an heirloom. Hermione could scarcely see through her tears, blinking as he went on.

"I vow to be true to you," he said quietly, "for the rest of our lives. I vow to protect you—even when you don't think you need protecting. I vow to love you, through the good times and the bad." He glanced at her, his eyes glassy, when she gave a sniffle. "And I vow, Hermione Granger, to be everything I possibly can for you—and to do my best to be everything you deserve."

Clapping a hand to her mouth, Hermione stifled a sob, lost for words as her heart danced in her chest.

"So…" he trailed off, doleful eyes meeting hers, his expression soft and raw as he dropped to one knee in the snow. "WIll you marry me—regardless of anything else or any stupid mistakes we made in the past—" Hermione choked on a laugh, a slow grin creeping across her face as he finished, "And make me the happiest man in the world?"

Nodding, a fervent, "Yes," slipped through her lips before she could even think, tears coursing down her cheeks.

A devastating grin stretched across his face. "I need you to be honest because if you agree I'm never letting you go."

"You prat," she whispered, "It would be my honour."

Barely had she blinked before she was engulfed in his embrace, her arms coiling tightly around his middle as silent tears poured from her eyes, and she could feel his heart racing against her face as she pulled him closer still.

When he drew back, his eyes were glazed before he kissed her, his lips firm against her own as she sunk into his hold, feeling as if there was nowhere else she would sooner be for the rest of her life.

He drew the ring from the box, an absent smile lingering on his lips as he placed it on her finger.

"It's beautiful," she breathed, gazing enraptured at the jewels before she teased, "You have excellent taste."

"My mother has excellent taste," he corrected with a grin, "and she will be very excited about this."

She gazed at the ring, a perfect fit to her finger, for only a moment before she fixed her eyes back on him. "I love you. And I look forward to the rest of our lives together—for real, and not because of anything else."

With another soft, lingering kiss, he said, "I can't wait." Taking her hand into his, he planted a kiss to her knuckles where the ring now sat, the feel of it unfamiliar but full of promise. "I love you more than I can say."

Hermione's heart felt fit to burst as she gazed at him, until finally he snickered and shoved his hands back into his pockets.

"I really was not anticipating it to be this cold," he said with a chuckle. "Shall we go see what Emerson's made of my mess?"

As if his words had brought her back to the situation, a shiver crept through her even as she flashed him a wide smile. "Absolutely."

Author's Note: Thanks so much for reading, everyone. A bit of a fluffy one today. I hope you're all keeping well!

Alpha hugs to Kyonomiko.