Hey guys!

Soo here's yet another One Shot. This one was inspired by a story a friend from school told me about the way her husband had proposed to her. The moments and things are different, obviously, but the idea is the same I think. Anyway I thought it would be a cute story for a Dramione shot and although the title really has nothing to do with the story I hope ya'll enjoy it!

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot - and even that is shared.

Live. Laugh. Love.

A woman remembers the exact moment she realized she was in love with the man of her dreams.

X

She remembers that morning-the morning that changed her life forever. For the better. She remembers everything, every detail, every second. Every feeling. Every thought.

It was the first day of many that led to this day. The second-happiest say of her life, that has led to the first.

She looks at her reflection in the mirrors, her eyes shining with unshed tears of joy. Happiness. Adoration. Everything is perfect. The guest-list. The decorations. The dress. The hair. Everything.

And as she waits for her father to come and walk her down the aisle, she can't help but remember. Remember how she got here, dressed in the most beautiful white gown she's ever laid eyes on.

X

One minute she was kissing her boyfriend good-bye on her way out the door for a bright and early day at work, and the next she had a pillowcase thrown over her head as she stepped out onto the busy streets of London. Not even five steps out of the building that houses the magnificent flat she purchased with her boyfriend of three years, she finds herself being kidnapped. That's a big, scary deal. Right?

Wrong. Because it wasn't just anyone who had thrown the pillowcase over her head-it was her redheaded best friend. She can tell by the voice that followed, telling her to stay completely still. The second voice she heard was that of her boyfriend's best friend, his Italian-British accent setting him apart from the rest of London. Within minutes they've loaded her into some sort of vehicle, the pillowcase still covering her head while a body binding spell holds her arms at her sides.

"You can take the pillowcase off, you know. I know who you are," the brunette witch tells her friends, who are whispering to each other in hushed tones. "And while you're at it, you might as well take the spell off me."

The do as their told, the Italian producing the counter-spell for the body bind, and the redhead pulling the pillowcase off of her head. The first thing she notices is that they aren't in just any vehicle. They're in a limo. The same kind used by her mildly filthy-rich boyfriend. (To this day, he still tries to impress her with his money and his limos, despite the fact that she couldn't care less how much money he makes).

"Now, mind telling me what this is about?"

"Sorry, that's top secret," her bestfriend tells her.

"Right, well, I have to go to work, so-"

"You should probably read this first before you go making any rash decisions," the male tells her, handing her an envelope sealed with the Malfoy Stamp.

She eyes it curiously, before ripping it open and unfolding the parchment inside.

-Dearest Granger,
As you've probably already figured out, because you're just so fantastically brilliant, you won't be going to work today. I took the liberty off booking this day off for you, well in advance, so don't worry your pretty little head over it okay? Now you're probably wondering why I've cooked up this elaborate scheme-or you haven't bothered to wonder because you've learned to expect this sort of thing from me anyway. Whatever the case may be, here is a brief explanation, however vague it might be.
This is a test. It's a test which includes a series of letters, written by yours truly. Within each letter is a question of sorts. Each question has an answer and each answer is the next destination in which my lovely driver will deliver you to. Each destination is special, and it's up to you to figure out why. Like a treasure hunt.
The reason for this test is to remain top secret until later tonight, in which I will reveal my intentions so don't even bother to waste your breath on asking either of your companions.
Happy hunting.
Love,
Draco-

"Top secret? Really?"

"Really."

"Here's your first clue," Ginny responds, giving her another envelope.

-Luvbug,
What is the thing you need most every morning? (Besides a good morning kiss from me, of course). What is the one thing you absolutely cannot live without first thing in the morning? I'll give you a hint. It's black. It's bitter. And for reasons I'll never understand, it sets out your entire days mood. 'Without it I may as well just go straight back to bed', you say.
So I'll repeat, what is the one thing you need most, every morning? From where? And what is its significance?-

Hermione smiles, rolling her eyes, because she can hear his voice in her head as if he's right in front of her, speaking to her in that tone of his.

"So, where to?" Blaise asks, lounging across the seat across from her in the spacious limo.

She smirks, crossing her arms over her chest. "Like you don't already know."

Ginny grins, clapping her hands together excitedly. "To the coffee shop it is!"

x

One black coffee with milk and sugar on the side, and a whole wheat bagel with light cream cheese-pre-paid for by Draco himself-later, Ginny hands her another letter.

-Lover,
If you're reading this letter, then you've passed the first test. Simple, wasn't it? I expected as much. Moving onto the next destination then, just let me set the mood.
You're angry. And sweaty. And you're taking your frustrations out on inanimate objects like you often do when you're upset with me. It relaxes you. (Not to mention you look incredibly sexy, but that is neither here nor there).
The lawt time I was there, you screamed at me to leave because I was ruining your morning. Five minutes later you left with me.-

Hermione smiles at the memory, shaking her head slightly because she can see his smirk in her mind's eye.

"So, where to now? And this time, I have absolutely no idea," Ginny admits, raising her hands in a sort of innocent surrender.

"My yoga place, down the street."

"Yoga? I didn't know you did yoga," Blaise muses, looking amused.

"I didn't know Malfoy did yoga."

The brunette witch snorts loudly, shaking her head and collecting her purse. "He doesn't. A couple years ago we'd had a fight one night, and the next morning when I was at yoga he showed up. Completely out of place, looking all perfect and handsome-like he's just walked off of a runway, it was humiliating. So we started arguing some more."

Ginny raises her eyebrows skeptically, scrunching her nose in confusion. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"Draco didn't tell you?"

Blaise shakes his head.

"It's where he kissed me for the first time. Two weeks after our first date, in front of an entire room full of jealous women and even more jealous gay men." She smiles again at the memory, her cheeks turning a nice rosy colour.

"And the coffee shop?"

"He spilled his Earl grey tea on me, insulted me, and then begged me to go on a date with him."

x

Blaise, being the cowardly Slytherin that he is, had disappeared the moment they arrived at the gym. 'The only physical exertion I'm willing to take part in is a good ol' game of Quidditch', he'd said, before climbing back into the back of the limo and telling both witches that he'd be back within the hour with the next letter.

Hermione had hoped that by getting Ginny alone, her friend would tell her what all of this is about. Unfortunately for Hermione, the redhead is more tight-lipped than she usually is, and vows that when the time is right she will find out. And only then. So calling Draco and pleading (blackmailing) him into telling her is out of the question.

Not even twenty minutes into the exercises Ginny gives up, huffing and puffing her way to the wall for some stability before sliding down it and crumbling into a heap on the floor. The girl can play Quidditch with the boys for hours, but put her on a mat and get her to do yoga and she falls to pieces.

Half an hour later Hermione too has had enough, rubbing a towel over her forehead to soak up any sweat as she walks over to where her friend is sitting prim and proper.

"Blaise should be here any minute. By the way, I'm starving. Do you think we could make a small adjustment and grab something to eat on the way to wherever we're going next?"

"Hmmm, I dunno. It's a tight schedule," Hermione teases.

Within the next couple moments, Blaise comes barreling into the room, taking a second to wink at one of the women passing bay. "I'm here, I'm here, don't get your knickers in a twist."

"The letter, if you will," Ginny replies, holding out her hand to receive the white envelope.

"What, I can't give it to her myself?"

"There's a system to these things Zabini. Besides, I am her best friend-"

"I'm Draco's best friend and I'm certain he trusts me enough to give her a letter."

"I'm certain that I can do it perfectly well-"

"I'm certain that if somebody doesn't hand me the letter, I'll send you both home," Hermione replies loudly, interrupting them.

Both of them stop bickering, and in the end it's Blaise who hands her the letter.

-Lovely,
How was your workout? Did you enjoy it? Are you energized and fresh and all that...fun stuff? Well good. Now onto the next destination.
Food. Chicken Lasagna. Chicken Parmesan. Cesar Salad.
That is all.-

Rolling her eyes, despite the butterflies fluttering around her stomach, Hermione folds the letter back up and places it back inside the envelope. She stares down at the envelope, grazing her fingers over the letters of her name-Hermione Granger-written in his neat handwriting. Is it weird that just seeing her name makes her even more nervous? Excited? Happy?

"Well?" Ginny urges impatiently. "Where are we going? And more importantly, does it involve food?"

"Yes," Hermione smiles.

"Right, and where is this food?" Blaise wonders.

"It's where we had our first date."

x

This is by far the best morning she's ever had, she decides, as she leans back in her chair at her favorite Italian restaurant a few blocks south from her flat. Being here, even now, even as they've been back here plenty of times for lunch and dinner dates, brings back memories of their first date. The shy smiles and laughter. The conversations and bickering. They were different people back then, and yet they haven't really changed much. She remembers wondering why she had agreed to go on a date with him. It was partly due to the fact that he wouldn't leave her alone, nor would he let her leave the little coffee shop she loved so much, making her late for work. But there was something else too...something different. It was like she was being pushed to say yes. Her heart, which had recently developed a crazy sort of attraction to the bane of her existence, had ultimately won the battle with her head, which told her to stay far, far away from him.

But she'd taken the chance.

She'd leapt, head first, into a relationship. And she hasn't regretted a single second.

And it's moments like this, where she realizes how special what they have really is, that she knows she made the right decision-however scared she is sometimes.

"This is by far the best lasagna I've ever had," Ginny gushes, pulling Hermione out of her thoughts.

"I wouldn't tell your mother that," Blaise snickers.

The redhead rolls her eyes, looking at Hermione. "Why have you never brought me here?"

The brunette shrugs, smiling. "It's never usually me who even suggests it. I mean, it's delicious and I love it, but it's usually Draco who makes the suggestion because he knows how much I like it."

"Who knew the prat was so thoughtful," Blaise jokes. And yet the statement holds some truth to it. Everything she's done today has been due to Draco's thoughtfulness. It seems that he's thought of everything, including paying for everything in advance. The man sure knows how to surprise…

"So, is there another letter?"

"I believe there's three more," Ginny replies, handing her a fourth envelope.

Hermione opens it gently, pulling the parchment out and unfolding it carefully.

-'Mione,
By now you've probably guessed what this is all about. Or, at the very least, you've noticed a pattern. The last three destinations mark three very important moments in our life as a couple, for without them we wouldn't be where we are today. I wouldn't be who I am.
The following destination doesn't really have anything to do with me, because it's all you. It's art and literature and knowledge. Your home away from home. Your sanctuary. I chose this place because I know how much it means to you. So go. Have fun.-

She's pretty sure her heart skips a couple beats. Or several.

How can he know her so well, better than she knows herself? He's proved that time and time again today, but how? She could never…could she?

x

She can't even concentrate on the books at her favourite book store because she finds herself unable the pull her thoughts away from Draco. And while she isn't entirely sure what all of this is about-perhaps it's one of his elaborate schemes to bribe her into something, or perhaps he just wants her to have the perfect day-she finds herself wondering if it even matters. Does it matter why or how he's doing it? Or is all that matters is the thought behind it? The effort.

He must really love her. It's not like she's ever really doubted that, because he tells her every day. It's just...sometimes she wonders how committed he is. Hell, sometimes she wonders if she's committed. Of course she loves him, there isn't a doubt in her mind of that. It's just...they're so different; they're from two very different worlds, living in the same one. Sometimes she just wonders if they have what it takes, if she loves him...enough.

That thought alone scares her, that she doesn't. That she wouldn't. The thought of losing him scares her beyond belief.

Ginny finds her an hour later; her and Blaise had gone to run some 'errands' while she spent time in the book store.

"Where's Blaise?"

"Draco had some sort of emergency and demanded Blaise's help. Your boyfriend is demanding."

"I know," Hermione giggles. "So, where's my last letter?"

Ginny rolls her eyes playfully, pulling the envelope out of her purse and handing it to the brunette.

Hermione opens it with shaky hands.

-Mia,
This will be my last letter of the day. I have a mission for you. Attached is a $500 gift card to that muggle mall you love so much. I want you to go and treat yourself to buying something nice to wear-perhaps a dress and some accessories. We'll be having dinner tonight on the town. Don't worry about the cost or anything else, just have fun. And under no circumstances should any of that money go towards Red's Charity, got it?
I love you.-

x

Two hours, one little black dress and heels, a necklace and bracelet set, and few casual outfits later, Hermione finds herself stumbling through the front door of her flat, carrying bags in both hands as she fumbles with her keys. Ginny follows, carrying just as much if not more. When she looks up, she freezes in her spot, nearly dropping the bags on the floor.

Covering the walls from the floor to the ceiling are hundreds-thousands-of post-it notes reading 'I love you' in every single different language. (Love means the same thing in every language). She covers her quivering lips with a shaky hand. What is all this? She's anxious and terrified all at the same time. Of what, she isn't quite sure. She looks behind her at Ginny, who grins knowingly and urges her further into the flat. That's when she notices the purple envelope sitting in the key dish on the table by the front door. Placing her bags on the floor, she scoops up the envelope and tears it open.

-Hermione,
You've reached the end of your test. You've passed with flying colours. On the back of this paper is an address and time where I hope you will choose to meet me. I cannot tell you why just yet, but I can tell you that this only the beginning.
Love, Draco.-

When she flips the paper, she finds the address to the most luxurious hotel in London, where only the wealthy and famous can get a room. Apparently one out of two isn't that bad. She also sees the time-5:00 p.m. Looking up at the wall clock in living room, she groans inwardly. It's 3:56, which means she has less than an hour to shower, changed, do her hair and leave.

"Ginny, I won't have time."

"Well then I guess it's a good thing you're a witch, huh?"

x

Her palms are sweating and her heart is racing and her stomach is doing that ridiculous flip flop thing. She can't remember a time when she was ever this nervous...ever. Or completely terrified.

Ginny is with her, wearing the same thing she was wearing before and Blaise has been MIA for the better part of the last few hours. Hermione, on the other hand, is wearing her 'little black dress'-which is really just a cute summer dress-and her heels, along with the matching necklace and bracelet she had purchased earlier.
She stops in front of the door number he had written down on the back of her letter, staring at the silver numbers.

"If you wait any longer he'll think you've ditched him," Ginny whispers in her ear.

Hermione giggles nervously, lifting her hand to the door handle. It isn't that she's actually scared, it's just...she's afraid of the unknown. It's why she reads everything and anything. It's why she knows so much and why she strives to know so much. It's-

The door opens suddenly-it seems as though Ginny is more anxious than her. The redhead pushes her through the doorway and what she sees in front of her stops her in her tracks. Her heart stops-literally. Her breath catches in her throat. Ginny squeals softly behind her.

Across the room, Draco is waiting for her, standing with his hands clasped in front him. He smiles at her, clad in his best dress robes. Blaise, standing next to him, like Ginny, is still wearing what he had worn all day. She almost doesn't even notice the room. The rose petals scattered across the floor towards the middle of the room. Purple candles floating in the air above their heads. And music. Their song is playing in the background.

He crosses the room, and only then, as she blinks back tears, does she realize she's crying. He takes her hand, leading her backwards into the center of the room. She smiles softly, reaching up to wipe her cheek as his left arm falls around her waist and his right holds her hand to his chest.

"What are we doing?" she whispers.

"Just dance with me," he whispers back.

She nods, burying her face in the crook of his neck as they sway delicately to the sound of music. Back and forth. Side to side. A million ideas are running through her mind, and yet she can't concentrate on any of them. All she can think about is the music in her ears and the feeling of his arms around her and his breath on her neck and the smell of his cologne.

The music ends shortly after and she finds herself pulling away anxiously, looking at him properly. He smiles at her, resting his forehead on hers. "I know I said we're going to have dinner with our friends and family, but first I have to ask you something," he whispers.

And suddenly, despite her previous doubts, despite the fact that they're like fire and ice, despite their many differences she knows the answer. More tears threaten to betray her and she sniffs them back, nodding her head for him to continue.

"I love you, you know that. I'll do anything for you. I'll be anything for you. I love your voice and your laugh. I love your smile and your eyes. I love your hair, even if you think it's annoying. I love that you don't even realize how beautiful you are. I love your mind and you heart-your soul. I love that you read the whole book before you pass judgment. I love that you strive for greatness even though you've already reached it. I love that you're kind and warm and perfect in every way that counts. You make me better. You make me want to be better. You make me want to strive for greatness just like you because you're passionate and confident and you know exactly who you are. You make me smile and laugh more than anyone. You...make me, me. You're in my mind and my body and my soul. But more importantly you're in my heart and I can't imagine life without you. In fact the very thought terrifies me."

"Draco-"

"Marry me."

He says it. He doesn't ask, or plead or beg. He doesn't suggest it. He says it-demands it. Like she doesn't really have a choice. And yet the look in his eyes is pure need and love and hope.

And she realizes, as she watches him crouch down on one knee, that without a shadow of a doubt she is in love with this man. Dropping to her own knees in front of him, she slips her arms around his neck. "Yes, yes, yes. Of course I'll marry you."