"What do you want to be when you grow up?"

He stroked her cheek, the soft spot right above her cheek bone, before the indent of her eye. She always blushed right there, so high on her cheeks, like a baby doll.

"What if I don't want to grow up," she frowned. Her eyes sparkled up at him. She always liked their Sunday mornings spent together. No one would bother them-no owls, no random floo stop-ins, nothing-and they would spend their entire day together. Some mornings they just stayed in bed, cuddling and having each other. Other mornings, they'd shower and read and do other productive things. But-no matter their purposes or plans-they'd be together.

Their lovely Sundays were so unlike the rest of the week, were they had to play pretend. They would walk past each other in the office, on the lift, or at a shop and act like nothing tawdry was between them. At parties when friends would point one out to the other at parties, they simply nodded and asked how they were since school. There were no betraying smiles, no secret love letters, no trysts in broom closets.

Hermione often got flak from her friends. They meant well, she knew. But it was horrible to face them weekly-when they gathered for family dinners at the Weasley House. They pestered her with questions. They tried setting her up on dates-"I know this sweet bloke from work…" "There is this guy in Magical Misuse that I think you'd fancy…" and the worse ever, "Uh. Hermione. So there's this girl in my…"

Hopeless, the whole lot of them. But she never hinted she was seeing anyone or that he was absolutely fabulous for her in every single way. Getting other people involved too early in their relationship would no doubt ruin it, they had agreed on their third date. That third date suddenly turned into a month of secrecy. That month of shushed whispers into a year. And now, here they sat, on her bed, enjoying their Sunday morning rituals.

"You don't have to grow up," his eyes crinkled, "but you might grow old."

"Mmm." She confirmed, looking quite serious.

He pulled her towards his lounging body. Smoothing down her crazy curls, he pressed a kiss to the crown of her head.

"I don't know-what I want to do. Maybe go back to Uni again. Maybe write a book…I could always revise the next copy of Hogwarts, A History."

She nodded, tickling his chest with her hair, sending sweet shivers up his back. His arms came around her, pulling her into his body.

"I have an idea…"

"What?" Her curiosity always got the best of her.

"You could always go ahead and change that last name of yours…?"

She smiled. This was a game they played, more often recently.

"Oh, yes, I could. But you know I haven't quite found a good fit. It's hard to match anything with Hermione." She laughed.

"I could think of one." He ran his hands up and down her sides. She melted into him. She laced her fingers into his hand.

"Oh? Could you?"

"Mmmhmm. How about," he tapped his free hand against his lips, faking deep concentration. She smiled up at him, shifting her weight so she could see his face.

He finished, "How about Hermione Malfoy," he smiled at her, "Granger?"

"Huh." She teased, "It doesn't sound too bad, but let's change the order of those surnames, hm?"

"I was using your name, Granger, not saying tack it on there at the end. Or at all. You'd just be Hermione Jean Malfoy." He enjoyed the way the words rolled out of his mouth, feeling sweet and heavy.

She smiled, playing into their little game. Whenever she picked on him, he bit back just as hard. They were equally sassy, strong willed, and opinionated. They were perfect for each other.

He pouted, "I'm serious. Let's do it. Please?"

She looked at him, shocked into silence. He never begged. He never said nice things like 'please.' He was overly prime and proper in nearly every way, but he would never stoop low enough to plead for things.

He was entirely serious.

"Draco…?" She could barely form his name, let alone other parts of a full sentence to be able to decide on this…proposal? Was this a proposal? It lacked his usual flourish. She had also expected to announce their courting before they ever announced an engagement-if they ever even did have to announce such a thing!

"I can literally see the cogs turning thoughts in your head, Granger. Really. You didn't think I would propose as such, did you?"

She shook her head slightly, looking more frozen than happy.

He smirked, "Of course, your proper proposal would come with pomp and circumstance and some lavish scheme. Naturally. I am a Malfoy after all." His free hand waved about. She looked around her messy bedroom, their clothing from last night scattered about the floor, her quilt bunched up at their feet. She realized she must look a mess and, although he was always handsome, he looked mused from their activities and sleep.

She nodded.

"So this is just a warning, Granger."

"No."

"What?" His body tensed and he dropped her hand.

"I said, no."

He pushed her off his body and sat up straighter.

"What?" He was beginning to get worried.

"If I was going to change my surname, I'd be Granger-Malfoy."

His eyes opened wider. "Cor, I thought you were saying no to my 'not-proposal-proposal.'"

He sighed. It was overly loud and dramatic.

She smiled, "While I haven't said 'yes' yet." She popped out the her bed and skittered off towards the kitchen.

"Oh, I'm going to get you, Granger!"

"That's Granger-Malfoy! Get used to it!" She yelled back at him.

Yes, he thought, I could get used to it.