Far From a Fairy Tale for 2009 dramionedrabble Valentine Challenge (original) (raw)

Title: Far From a Fairy TaleRating: PG-13
Word Count: 1,246
Summary: The day after her failed wedding, Hermione goes to find Draco and profess her love.
Notes/Warning: Written for Day 4 of the dramionedrabble Valentine Challenge. Used all of the quotes given for that day.
This was the real sequel to Firewhiskey and Forbidden Love, but I didn't get it up in time for the challenge. Fun and Firewhiskey is more like the alternate ending. Happier ending, I swear.

Hermione walked into the pub she had been in the previous night and dropped her wig she had used the night before also. She dropped her veil as well and both items were left unwanted on the ground. When the brunette spotted Draco Malfoy, she immediately sat on the stool situated on his right.

Draco did not need to look up to recognize Hermione’s powdery fresh scent. He smelled it every day they worked together and it triggered memories that he would always cherish. “Shouldn't you be marrying Weasel right now?” he asked angrily.

“I would be if I didn’t love someone else,” Hermione said, placing her hand over his on the countertop. “Draco, I know that you and I have had our differences. I don’t care about that anymore because we fit together like puzzle pieces in some odd way. We will always keep each other on our toes and it will never be dull. We will fight almost everyday about the smallest of things, but when we make up, everything will be okay once again.”

“How do you know all of this Hermione?” Draco asked, squeezing her hand.

“I thought about it all night,” Hermione replied. “As I was staring at myself in this dress, it occurred to me that our lives will be bearable and magical in its own right as long as we have each other. We have each other.”

“That will be enough for you?” Draco was quite unconvinced right now.

“We’re not the carbon copy of a romance novel couple,” Hermione said with a laugh. “We’re not even meant to be Romeo and Juliet, even though their story is similar to ours. You taught me that love isn’t simple. So I say thank you for curing me of my ridiculous obsession with love. I just need stability, shelter, and your commitment to our relationship, whatever that may be.”

“So you’re giving up on a chance of a fairy tale love and the perfect family to be with a … monster?” Draco was still bitter about the night before.

“You are not a monster,” Hermione cupped his cheek and gently guided his eyes to gaze into hers.

Draco let out a bitter laugh. “I am a man born to a heartless Malfoy and a sheltered Black. My father, grandfather, and I, we are creatures of the underworld. We can’t afford love. We just need strong heirs and a high rank in society. I only hear about stories of love because they are loads of bollocks to my family. I know about art and love, if only because I long for it with every fiber of my being. I long for you.”

“No you are not a monster,” Hermione whispered fiercely. “Because you and I love each other deep down and it is enough, even though we are both too scared to admit it. In all reality, a life with love, that’s …” She was having difficulty trying to get her point across. “… terrible! And that’s why I can’t be with Ron. I need you.”

Draco sighed, but quickly grabbed hold of her waist. “So I get to have you all to myself now Granger?” Hermione nodded and laughed with delight. “Please don’t tell me that Weasel has ruined your perception of sex because that will be a very important part of our relationship.”

Hermione gave him a curious look. “Mr. Malfoy, are you … jealous of Ronald Weasley?” The brunette laughed heartily at the thought of such a thing.

Draco growled and moved his face so that their noses were only several hairs apart. “That Weasel has nothing on me, Granger, you can be sure of that,” he whispered fiercely.

Hermione’s facial expression was still curious, but coupled with slyness that usually only Draco possessed. “No Malfoy, you are jealous of him!” She laughed again and Draco dropped her to the floor. “Malfoy! What is wrong with you?” She rubbed her now sore ass.

“It’s not that I’m a jealous man,” Draco said matter-of-factly before taking a quick gulp of his butterbeer. “I just don’t like other people touching my things. So as soon as you move into the manor, you will be washed down thoroughly.”

Hermione quickly stood up. “I am not your possession, Malfoy.” She looked at him with an expression that told him to challenge her and see what hell it would bring. “And if you continue to think that I am, I will gladly go back to Ron.”

Draco gave her look of unadulterated fury. “Like hell I will let that happen,” he whispered dangerously. He wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her against his body once again before reaching into his pocket with his free hand and pulled out a small box.

He shoved it into Hermione’s hands and kneeled on one knee. “Granger – I mean Hermione – we may not be madly in love, but our feelings for each other can grow into that later. What I am asking is that you marry me, have children with me, yell at me in the safety of our home, and stay with me until we die and wither into nothing.”

Despite herself, Hermione’s eyes had begun to tear up as she listened to him. He was still arrogant with his speech, but she knew that he meant them with all of his tortured soul. She opened the box and looked at the platinum ring with two snakes intertwining and staring at each other. The eyes were made out of two small, but genuine rubies and emeralds; the colors of their houses. Draco waited impatiently and nervously for her answer and when she nodded silently, Draco stood up and lifted her into his arms, just as a man would with his new bride.

“But what will we do about Astoria?” Hermione asked, wrapping her arms around his neck. “Aren’t you two betrothed?”

“Not anymore,” Draco said, kissing at her neck. “I got rid of her last night when I returned to the manor. I was amazed when Mother revealed to me how much she disliked my former betrothed.”

Hermione sighed with relief. “Will your mother like me?” she whispered softly.

“She already does,” Draco reassured her, looking into her eyes. “I’ve told her all about you and even though she hates your muggle blood, she will accept you as her future daughter-in-law.”

Hermione let out another breath and rested her head in the crook of his shoulder. “Can we go home now, Draco?” she whispered.

“To the manor you mean?” Draco was surprised that she could already refer to the place as ‘home.’

“Yes, and we can talk all night about what we’ll do for our wedding,” Hermione said. “We should get married later this month.”

“Hell no, I refuse to marry you in the month that Weasel would have,” Draco said, rolling his eyes.

“Fine, April? That will give us two months to prepare.”

“Yes, that’s perfect.” He began to walk them out of the pub. “What will we do tonight then?”

“Read poetry; that always puts me in a serene mood.”

“Ah, poetry. Yes, this is what I want naughty words.”

“Draco! You and I aren’t making love until we get married, I’m still a virgin and our night needs to be special.”

“Then we will get married in early March, love. I refuse to wait much longer to join together.” Hermione laughed as they disapparated to their new home.