AN: A collection of old memories for Hermione and then back to the present.


Epilogue

Late July 1999

"Hey, Hermione!" Marie Clearwater called from down the corridor. Hermione turned around and met her boss halfway. "Could you take these last few patients for me? Actually, just the one. I've got Wayne doing the other two but I have to get a head start on discharge papers for the floor upstairs. Could you help me out? I'm flooded; swamped with work! It's just a run down to check if he's feeling well enough to go in the morning." she pleaded. Marie was a stout and portly woman, but was very kind and mannerly.

Hermione nodded and took the chart gingerly from Marie's hands then waved her off as she hurried away. She glanced over the room number, the cause of injury, and headed down the hall in a rush.

Two customary knocks on the door and a swift opening later, and she was face to face with Malfoy. She almost gasped out loud but instead checked the chart to make certain that the room number matched the patient name. Draco Malfoy, right there in black ink, in Marie Clearwater's tidy, tiny scrawl. She looked back up at him and waited. For what, she wasn't sure.

There was no snarl, no negative comment, no scoff… there wasn't anything. His face was nearly blank, save for a small frown. But it wasn't directed at her. He looked genuinely upset to be in the hospital, not upset to be around her. He was lying down on the bed with his head propped up on the pillow. His line of sight went from her to the wall on the other side of the room.

Hermione reread his chart. He'd been cursed two days ago by a rogue Death Eater on the run and had been healing in the hospital ever since. The curse had hit him right in the chest, sending him flying backwards right into a brick-stone wall. There was a mild concussion, bruising, cuts, and some reverse spell damage had to be done, but besides that he would be fine after another day.

"How's your head?" she asked, trying to stay professional even though she longed to turn away from him.

He swallowed and shrugged nonchalantly. "It isn't bothering me anymore."

His voice was hardly recognizable to her. She wasn't surprised since she hadn't actually heard him speak in over a year but there was something refreshing about his tone. It was relaxed, so unlike how he usually sounded when he talked to her. She set the chart down on the bed and rested her hand on his forehead, gently running her fingers across it and moving the hairs away from his face. She didn't know what had possessed her to touch him that way but he didn't seem to mind. In fact, he looked to be enjoying her close proximity. Their eyes connected for a moment before she looked away, a blush crawling down her neck from her cheeks. "You — you seem fine to me. I think you could go home tomorrow before the evening."

"Okay," he muttered, still looking at her. Her hand had felt so soft just then. He longed for her to do it again.

"I should get back… to my other patients, I mean. You'll be all right. Just call me if… if you need anything." Hermione set off for the door, ready to rush into the hallway and exhale all the tension out of her body when she heard him calling her.

"Granger, wait!"

She didn't turn around but she knew he would find her. Feelings like the ones she had just felt in her gut didn't go away so easily. He would definitely be back, or at least she halfway hoped so.


Mid November 1999

Their relationship had been something of a secret, even to her closest friends and especially to his mother. Narcissa Malfoy was an unpredictable factor and her friends were completely predictable factors. She could hear in her head what they would say to her. Ron and Harry would question her sanity while Ginny would be shocked to the point of polite speechlessness.

Hermione wanted people to know how happy she was and she wanted them to know why but Draco insisted on keeping things between them on an extremely low profile. She tried to set the topic down and let it go but it was haunting her on a daily basis.

"We can't tell anyone, Granger," he said rather strictly. "Don't say a word."

Hermione sighed sadly. "It's been over a year. I don't fancy being someone's dirty little secret!"

Draco gave her a look of shock. "You aren't my dirty little secret." He went over to her and held her hand lovingly. "It's not a great idea," he went on. "Can't you imagine how things would go? It isn't about your friends or my mother. The public criticism is what I worry about."

"Why bother caring about what they think?" she exclaimed. "This is about us and our happiness. It has nothing to do with them. I can take criticism just fine, Draco!"

He shook his head. "It would get into the Prophet, people would talk. I don't have the best reputation these days and I don't want to ruin yours."

"That doesn't matter to me," she said firmly. "They don't matter. But my friends do matter to me and while their biased opinions of you won't change my mind to be with you, they still deserve to know. They keep trying to set me up! They think I'm single. This guy at work keeps asking me out! I can't tell them I'm seeing someone without giving them a name. Let me give them your name! Please…"

He was massaging her shoulders and kissing up and down her neck in an attempt to distract her from the conversation. It wasn't really working. "In due time," he promised.

"How much time?"

"Hermione, just give me some time."

That was the end of it for the meantime. She continued to see him and spend the night ever so often at his city flat, under the pretense of having to work more hours if her friends ever went looking for her at her own place. Their time together was an intimate heaven and as much as she loved being with him, it killed her that her best friends were in the dark. She understood where Draco was coming from but what was the harm in taking a chance? They couldn't be mad at her forever. The Prophet wouldn't keep them as headlines forever. Thoughts of revealing their relationship continued to haunt her but she did her best to try and keep them at bay.


February 2000

"I told them about you, Draco."

He stopped what he was doing and looked up at her. They were lazing about in bed on a Sunday morning and his head had been resting on her stomach, he was kissing around her naval when she spoke that nearly terrifying sentence.

"I told them that they should stop trying to set me up because I already have someone and that they'll meet you as my boyfriend on Wednesday."

"Why would you do that?" he said abruptly. "I thought we talked about this."

"We did but I don't think it's fair. These are my friends. They're people I care about. I can't lie to them, I just can't do it."

He rolled his eyes behind her back and started to nip on her earlobe. He cooed into her ear flirtatiously, "What if we just stay here in my bed all week long?"

Hermione felt that familiar rush of excitement travel to her nether region and pulled away from him before he could seduce her into changing her mind. "No, stop it. We — we can't do that," she said with a quiver to her voice, breathing ragged and roughly. "I promised them… and I can't miss work, Draco."

"Sure, you can," he insisted, rubbing her waistline and pulling her knickers down slowly. "I'll call in for you."

"Draco, don't," she pleaded, in a weak attempt to wiggle away from him.

"Don't what?" he teased, with a smirk on his face. "Don't stop?"

She gasped and moaned loudly as his finger moved from her waist to her now wet lips, prodding in and out of her center. He took his other hand and caressed her left tit while sucking on the right one jovially. She was under his control now. She knew there would be no more serious talk as long as he kept on with what he was doing, but she tried anyway. "Please, we — we've got to talk about this." It felt too damn good. Resisting was an option out the window at this point. She wanted to cum, but she needed him to be serious. She needed him to stop, but she didn't want him to. "Draco…"

He ignored her pleas and ran his tongue up her neck, reveling at her pleasured shudder. "Shhh, Granger." He kissed her cheek and gladly climbed on top of her, placing his ready member right in the middle of her thighs. "We can talk later," he claimed, as he slid right into her, not caring that her nails were digging right in his back.

Wednesday evening came and Draco was not at the agreed meeting spot. Harry, Ginny, Ron and Quinn were all waiting for Hermione's mysterious boyfriend to show up and they'd gotten bored of waiting. A couple hours later they gave up and went back home, assuring Hermione that there would be other times to meet. She rushed home as well with tears gliding down her reddened cheeks. Never in her life had she been so embarrassed before. They probably all thought that she'd made a guy up so that they would leave her alone about being with someone.

She released tear after tear into her pillow, tensing up when she heard her front door unlock with the spare key she'd giving Draco. Shortly after, he'd joined her on the bed and touched her shoulder. She was still crying and refusing to look at him.

"I'm sorry," he tried. "I couldn't."

He couldn't? What a pathetic excuse. Didn't he understand that this was hard for her too? She was the one who would have to deal with the sour blow of possible rejection from her friends. She was left with the short end of the stick. Didn't he see that?

"Hermione, really. I am sorry."

"Get out," she said into the pillow. She felt his hand lift away from her shoulder but his body weight stayed on the bed.

"Hey, I'll stay the night here this time. That way you won't have to move and I can make you feel better. Hang on, just let me—"

"Get out!" Her head lifted up from the pillow but she didn't meet his eyes. "I want you out, Draco! I can't do this anymore. You couldn't do this one thing for me, after all of the things I do for you, you couldn't be bothered to just meet us there. You're so selfish! Just the worst kind of person!"

"Hey!" he defended. "You know that isn't true. Don't be rash."

"Get out, Draco," she repeated. "It's not worth it. You aren't worth the trouble. It's over." The words left her mouth but they hadn't seemed real. It hadn't hit her that she'd actually said them until his footsteps led away towards the door and out of the house. He slammed it shut and Hermione resumed her sobbing session, feeling all kinds of regret bubble up inside of her.


Late June 2000

She hadn't seen him since that day when she'd finished with him.

It still hurt. Everyday it hurt a bit less but the pain was still there, raging strong throughout her body. She would cry one night a week, crying enough for a whole week until the tears wouldn't come out anymore, then she would go to sleep and dream of him coming back and begging for her forgiveness.

In the last four months, her coworker, Wayne Burton, had asked her out twice and she had harshly turned him down both times. She wasn't ready at all to start over, become intimate with another person. Draco had been her first and she had been wondering while they were together if he would end up being her last. Surely, if he couldn't commit to her enough to meet her friends then there would be no wedding, at least not anytime soon.

Thoughts like that brought up questions if he ever truly loved her. Of course he had said it, once or twice on his own. And he responded to it whenever she said it to him, but his behavior had been too reluctant, too shaky. Real love was certain and unwavering. He was supposed to have been loyal, unafraid to meet her friends if he had really loved her. Every so often she would close her eyes and see him clearly, kissing her, holding her tightly, cuddling with her at night. She wanted him back so badly but she wanted him to come to her and swear on his life that he had changed and that he wouldn't hurt her ever again. Moving on was not an option. She only ever wanted Draco.


September 2000

Flowers delivered by owl had appeared at her window. She accepted them and sent the owl off with a treat, tearing the card off the bouquet and reading the single line obsessively.

"Happy Birthday, Granger."

Hermione smiled and let a few tears fall before wiping her face. It was him. It had to be him. She grasped the bouquet, hugging it greedily and pretended that it was him that she was holding on to. His voice was in her ear wishing her a happy birthday, his arms were around her waist and his lips were on hers. She opened her eyes. He wasn't really there. Of course he wasn't. Damn it, why couldn't he just be there?

The doorbell rang but she ignored it. She was in no mood to see anyone. The flowers were too beautiful to waste so she put them in a vase with some water and hugged herself one more time. Missing him was like torture. Not a day went by that she didn't wish that she hadn't finished with him. She could forgive him instead, anything if it meant she could have him back. They were in love. Even if he didn't say it much, she knew that they were. She shouldn't have thrown that away.

The bell rang again, followed by a quick few knocks and another ring of the bell. She let herself go and swung the door open briskly, angrily.

Two arms swept her up into a familiar embrace just as quick as she'd opened the door, and she readily let her body pour into them. She'd been missing those arms so damn much.

He kissed her over and over on her mouth, on her cheek, her neck. "I'm sorry," he whispered in between kisses. "I was an idiot. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

Hermione pulled him indoors and dragged him into the bedroom. They were frantically all over each other and neither one of them minded. The same warmth filled her up as he rolled on top of her and graced her lips with his. This was what she wanted. She didn't need him to meet her friends. She needed him; just him. "I was asking too much of you," she breathed out. "I'm the one who should be sorry. Please, Draco," she begged. "Don't ever leave me again."

It had been way too long since he'd felt her soft and sparsely freckled skin and he nodded to her request before making sweet love to her for the first time in months.


August 2001

Hermione hadn't asked him to do anything concerning her friends in a long time. That place in her heart where she'd stored that need to be honest with them was getting smaller and smaller all the time. She was petrified to bring it up. A repeat performance of her last planned meet and greet was the last thing that she wanted. Her wants and needs and fears were getting jumbled up in her brain. She didn't know what was what anymore.

There had to be a way that she and Draco and her friends and his mother could coexist peacefully. She didn't want to keep it a secret anymore. They had every right to know and when they did find out, Draco would have even less of an excuse for not proposing to her. Hermione wasn't a girl to waste time.

The next night she had brought it up at dinner. They were eating at her place with muggle take out that she'd ordered. She tried casually to put the idea out there. He had tried to shut it down immediately but she wouldn't stand for it.

"This is really important to me, Draco. How are we ever going to move forward in this relationship if no one knows the relationship exists? What are you so afraid of?"

He ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. He really didn't want to talk about it again. The last time they tried talking about this it ended up in a bitter breakup. Couldn't she see that he just wasn't comfortable hanging out with her friends? "Hermione, it wouldn't work! You know deep down that it wouldn't work. Stop trying to test the waters! It will only end in disaster."

"You don't know that. We have all grown up a little since the end of the war. It doesn't have to be catastrophic. We can all be civil with one another, don't you see?"

"No, Hermione, I don't see." His frustration had reached its limit. He stood up out of his chair and adjusted his clothing. "Maybe I should just go," he murmured, more to himself than to her. "I'll see you around," he said shortly, before storming out of her flat as quickly as he could.

Hermione felt the prickling sensation of forming tears and forced herself to stop. Crying wasn't necessary. She had cried enough over him after all.

She tried to convince herself that things would be fine. He had said that he would see her later, hadn't he? They weren't breaking up over a silly little argument like that one, were they? Well, it turns out that they were. He wouldn't speak to her or answer any of her owls and she was too stubborn to go out and face him. The fault might have been hers this time but he had been irrational in his response to the mere suggestion.

Two months passed and they weren't talking yet. Wayne Burton had gone out of his way to ask her out on a date three times in that time frame. Another three months passed and still no contact from Draco, but Wayne was getting more persistent in his methods of asking her out. It was getting harder to say no but she wasn't ready to give Draco up. He was just cross with her. Afraid that she would bring up the topic again. They were still in love, weren't they?

She needed him. No one else understood her like Draco did. Wayne ended up being the listening victim to her troubles with Draco and he consoled her when she couldn't turn to anyone else. One more month went by and she was just about ready to go to him and beg for forgiveness this time, only she didn't get the chance to. Wayne got in her way tight after she clocked out from work one day and he wouldn't let her go until she heard him out properly.


Present Day

"Oh my god," she said, holding her head up in her hand. She was in her room again, in her flat on the bed, with Draco right in front of her, Wayne Burton — er — Flavio Lestrange's wand in hand.

"What's wrong?" Draco asked urgently. "Are you feeling all right?"

She nodded and looked up at him. He joined her on the bed and put his arm around her. "My head feels much better, actually. It doesn't hurt anymore. The migraines are gone."

"What is it?" Her smile was small but it felt good to see it on her after everything that had just happened.

"I remember now," she said quietly. "I really missed you."

He kissed her shoulder and squeezed her tightly. "I really missed you too, Granger."

"Well, you lied to me then."

Confusion spread on his face. What was she talking about? "What?"

"You said I lost faith in you because you kept standing me up with my friends. You only ever agreed to meet them once and didn't show. We talked about it another time after that and you stopped speaking to me."

He simply shrugged. "I thought you were sore with me, and I was trying to teach you a lesson. Besides, in my recollection of past events, I showered past the details. They weren't important at the time. What was important was the fact that you couldn't remember any of it happening. But you remember now, right?" He asked, his voice full of hope.

She smiled again and rested her body on his. "I do."

"Then tomorrow, when I reacquaint myself with these famous bloody mates of yours," he started, slipping a sparkling diamond ring on her finger. "You can leave all the bad parts of how we got to be engaged out and just tell them how absolutely smitten with me you are, and how they shouldn't hex me on sight because you are so very, very in love with me."

He was smirking. She couldn't see it on his face but she knew it was there. It had to be there. "I don't think I can leave it all out. And I think that after all I've been through that I deserve a proper proposal."

He sighed and got down on his knee. "You are so bloody difficult," he said, taking her hand in his. "You're demanding and you always have to be right, but you're also the most amazing witch I've ever had to pleasure of meeting. And kissing," he joked. "And loving. And having in my arms. What I mean to say," he went on. "Is that I love the way you look at me. Your stare leaves me with this feeling and it gets under my skin. I'm addicted to you, even if I don't always show it. I just can't stay away. Most people would call what we have a tad unhealthy but I don't care about them because I love you and I want you to be my wife. I especially want you to be my fiancée after this next minute so that I can rub it in Potter and Weasley's face that I got the girl they spent their teenage years having wet dreams about. I won, mostly. And ignore that last part, I'm rambling. I love you. Will you marry me?"

She giggled at his little spiel and nodded slowly, then gasped in exclamation when he took her up in his arms and kissed her on the lips. "How can I say no after a speech like that one?" she breathed out. "Just to make sure you show up tomorrow, they are going to come here. And I'm inviting your mother as well. I don't know if she'll even come but we might as well blow it all out at once."

"Hermione?"

"What?"

He grinned against her cheek before giving it another kiss. "I'd be stupid to leave now. I'm not going anywhere anytime soon. You can count on that." His eyes were full of an "I love you," but he didn't say it out loud for fear of sounding too corny.

"I know," she said, more bashfully than she'd intended. Tomorrow, everything would be out on the table. It was all going to be all right, and she knew that for certain because she was going to slip a calming draught in their tea kettle before serving. It wouldn't make everything perfect but it was definitely going to help. "I love you too."

Fin.


AN: Wow. The end. It was great, right? This'll be my last Dramione for a while but I'll definitely still be writing. I've got two stories in progress. This one will have a sequel but it won't be up for a long time. Follow me, review, read my profile for more info, whatever. The next story will be up really soon, as in right after this one probably. I really hope you guys enjoyed reading this because I really enjoyed writing it. Especially chapter ten, that was fun. Anyway, keep on keeping on. Much love,

Sky.