JK Rowling done an amazing job as creator of Harry Potter. Please consider this statement my disclaimer.

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Sunrises, sunsets, laughter, and daisies, a few things in life that are so beautiful, yet overlooked by many. Don’t forget them. Don’t panic. Breath.

Breath.

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Destiny would be a cliché thing to use for their relationship, even though that is what it seems to be, destiny. At a young age, he taunted her, insulted her, and attacked her loved ones. Yet they kept crossing each other’s lives. It wasn’t love at first. It was pure hatred. He was raised to hate her, everything she stood for. He was raised to rid the world of the blood that coursed through her veins.

Despite that, she got under his skin. The way she laughed, the way she spouted out facts, the way she walked, everything about her eventually became something he couldn’t get enough of. She was his drug. His own brand of heroine.

“Really Granger, they can go by themselves this time,” he was finishing making coco in the kitchen, “sit this one out.”

“No.” She clipped. She was sitting on their couch, feet tucked under her, thumbing through Hogwarts A History.

“The boy-who-wouldn’t-die and weasel can do it by themselves, stay home with me, we’ll do something.” He had a feeling; she should sit this one out.

“Yes, some things are left unraveled though, I’d like to help.” She explained.

“Damn it!” He snapped, slamming his hand on the kitchen counter. “Just stay and do something with me, Granger.”

“I’m not fighting on this; I already discussed it with them.”

Before she could process his movement, he rushed to the couch, sit down, pulled her book from her hands. She yelped in surprise when he grabbed her and yanked her in to his lap, putting her legs on either side of him, forcing her to be flush against him

She inhaled his scent, and her insides began to stir with want.

“Dra..,” but he stopped her.

“Let me go then.” He buried his face in her shirt, wrapping his arms around her, making his voice muffled. She laughed.

Draco stiffened, trying to not get frustrated. He had a feeling. She should sit this out. He couldn’t put his finger on it..

“No,” she breathed out, and ground her hips in him, and rocked.

His hand went to her hips, fingers digging in.

“Let me go, a Malfoy giving Pothead and Weasel information, it’d be a fucking sight,” he explained, “let me go, please.”

She huffed in annoyance.

“Really Malfoy,” she argued, “it’s routine. Unravel things and then back here I’ll be.”

His fingers dug dipper into her hips.

“Ow.” She smacked him.

“You’ve only made me beg for three things in our life.” He’s going to get sneaky, she thought.

His head moved, looking down, eyes getting darker, breathing more labored. His hand started to move up…and up. Up to her stomach. Up to her ribs. Up to her breasts. Hermione leaned in, rocking her hips.

“To let this glorious body be mine in every way possible,” he said, and put his mouth on her night shirt, taking her breast into his mouth, nibbled and sucked. Her rolled, arching her back, and grinding down.  But it was over as quick as it started.

“Tease.” She snipped.

He smirked, “To let me love you,” and he thrust his hips up into hers, relieving the friction she created. Her breath caught in her throat, letting a moan slip from her lips.

“And to have my last name as your last name.” His hands found hers, feeling for her wedding band.

“This will be the fourth time I beg you, and it’s for me to go in your place,” his lips met hers for just a second and he pulled back. She huffed in annoyance.

“Stay here, take this one off,” he reasoned, “let me go, please?”

He couldn’t make it go away, that feeling. His hands moved to her face, cupping it, “Please, Hermione.” He voice dropped an octave, the one where her toes curl, her panties dampen, and her eyes roll in pleasure for. She shuddered.

Reluctantly, she pulled back. She wanted him, and to get him, she’d have to give in. She pulled away completely and stood up.

“Come on,” she sighed, “I’ll show you what I’ve got gathered so far.”

He smirked and stood up.

“You have to be nice to them though, if not I’ll punish you.” Hermione smiled to herself.

He caught up with her quickly before her made it to the hallway of their apartment, grabbed her around her waist and turned her to face him. Laughter escaped her lips.

Draco couldn’t help but groan and capture her mouth with his.

She pulled away, “at least way until we get to the bedroom, ferret.”

“No,” he pushed her up against the wall, half of her body covering the window, anyone could see in if they were being nosey.

“Here, everywhere,” he pulled his sweats pants down, springing himself free. She pulled her night shirt over her head, his shirt was left on. He pushed himself flush against her.

She arched into him, her breasts rubbing his rough sweater, and it felt fucking amazing.

He grabbed her hands and pulled them above her head, taking his free hand and pushing aside her underwear, rubbing into her folds, drenching wet and ready.

He pulled one leg to wrap around him, positioned himself, and entered her. Every breathless gasp or whimper was met with a powerful thrust and guttural growl.

With no wand near to hold her hands in place, he just let go, pulled her other leg to wrap around him, and pounded into her, her head trying to roll back, only being able to hit the window or wall.

She clenched around him thinking that someone could see them, right now, in this moment, him taking her to the edge.

Curse words and pleasure induced moans was the only sound in the apartment. Their fingers dug into one another’s skin. She was close, his pace quickened.

“Harder,” she commanded. His thrust became harder, deeper, and she clamped around him, arching her back crying out, making her toes curl.

“Draco!”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he growled out with each thrust as he finished inside her.

He couldn’t help but notice the sun setting in the window and how the light shown through her hair, making her glow.

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He was kissing her face, feather kisses, trying to wake her up before he left to do the investigation.

Laughter sprung from her mouth.

“S-s-stop,” she pleaded, giggling.

He laughed as well, and her heart jumped to the throat.

“I’m leaving, bye love.” He gave her feather kisses again, making her laugh every time.

“See you later,” and she kissed him back.

He wanted to say bye though, he still had that feeling. He just smiled and began to leave the room.

“I’ll see you later Malfoy.” She said again.

“I’ll see you later, love.” She always got her way with him.

“Love you, Draco.”

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The sun was rising, light flooded into her room, covering her arm that wasn’t under the blanket, providing warmth.

Something was tickling her nose.

Hermione opened her eyes to daisies, scattered on her bed, in her hair, over her body. Her favorite flower.

She grinned.

“That Draco.”

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His heart was beating a million beats a second it felt like. He was certain anyone could hear it from anywhere.

Malfoy’s back was to the wall, his fist clamped around his wand. His chest was heaving.

Explosions were going off everywhere, laughter, evil laughter, was coming from all directions.

He had a feeling about this.

“Potter!” he yelled.

Seconds went by.

“Potter!!” he tried again.

…

“YEA!” Draco sighed in relief, muttering thank fuck he was alive.

“Ron!?” He asked.

When they went in, Harry and Ron were ahead, routine, nothing to worry about. Draco was behind studying over the files Hermione had given him.

There was nothing that showed anything out of the ordinary. He had caught up with them before they rounded the corner of the old Death Eater building..

They apparated in at just the right time. It was a trap. Faithful Death Eaters, avenging the death of Voldemort. It had been a trap, faulty evidence, placed by an insider in the ministry.

“Damn it! Answer me! What about Weasley?!”

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Draco had just walked up about to confirm the bullocks of an investigation it was when the first explosion came.

Ron pushed them back behind him, taking the blow. Draco didn’t understand, couldn’t comprehend it, but just knew Weasley saved his life, and he fucking owed him. He hated it.

“I’M FUCKING TRYING!” Harry roared. Weasley hated him. Hated him for having Hermione, for years. Until he married Lavender Brown. They started being civil to one another then, having small conversations, still sticking a jab at one another every now and then. He had to get to them. He knew healing spells.

“Where are you Potter!?” Draco yelled.

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Everything was fine. A whole day to herself to prepare his favorite recipe that she got from his mother. She was going over the list of things she’d need to get from Diagon Alley when she felt the magic of the patronous arrive before it actually manifested in front of her.

Ginny’s patrounous. “The investigation was a trap! The Order is going in,” it screamed in her voice.

She shot up and went to the closet where she kept the emergency bag of potions and a change clothes.

Don’t panic. Don’t panic.

“Let me go in your place..”

“Please Hermione..”

Don’t panic. Don’t panic.

“I’ve  only begged for three things in my life from you..”

Don’t panic. She changed quickly.

Do. Not. Panic. Think. Breath.

“To let this glorious body be mine in every way possible.”

Please don’t panic.

“To let me love you.”

Stop panicking! Breath!

“And to have my last name and your last name.”

She started to take in deep breaths. Breath.

“This will be the fourth time I beg you, and it’s for me to go in your place,”

Don’t panic.

“Please, Hermione.”

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He could see the light from the setting sun stream through the window her naked body was flush against. It glowed through her hair, and he couldn’t help but notice how beautiful it looked.

“Draco?” He smiled. That voice. What was that voice here?

“Draco?” Just a minute, he thought, say my name again.

“MALFOY! DRACO! WAKE UP MATE COME ON!”

Harry was yelling, performing every spell he knew to heal him, to stop the bleeding.

Draco finally got to them. It was dodgy, but he done it. He was quick enough to get Ron stable, breathing normally, and his wounds healing.

That’s when they found them.

Seven Death Eater’s surrounded them at once. Harry was quick enough to send them backwards, yelling out Bombarda Maxima, causing the deteriorating building to collapse on them.

Harry was quick to seven, but the eighth that swooped in behind them. The Death Eater sent a nasty curse towards Draco, one full of hate. Avada Kedavra. That one missed him, hitting the concrete in front of Ron. The next one, a hex, hitting Draco on point.

Harry roared out spells, sending the man back, hitting his head on a wall, and falling to the ground, landing on a sharp rock that went straight through him.

“Draco!” He yelled again.

Gasping for air, eyes opening wide, he awoke.

He was bleeding out. Harry had gotten all of the debris off of him. Draco had put a protective shield on Ron moments before he was attacked. Ron laid untouched a few yards away from them, still breathing.

Draco’s legs where smashed, Harry was trying to stop the bleeding.

“P-Potter I c-c-can’t feel m-my leg-gs.”

He coughed up blood.

“Potter I c-can’t f-f-fucking feel my leg-gs.”

“What’s the spells-“

“P-Potter my legs!” Draco yelled.

Harry didn’t know the spells. The ones he knew, the simple ones, wasn’t enough.

Nothing was enough.

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The order arrived as knights, capturing the attackers. Ginny ran to Harry, looking him over, seeing he was ok, and ran to Ron.

Hermione arrived and her eyes immediately landed on her husband.

“No, no, no, no.”

Don’t panic.

She rushed over, falling on her knees, and getting started. So much blood.

“Harry  what happened! Help me!” she commanded.

He had though, he had done all he knew, everything he could remember, nothing was stopping his bleeding.

“Did you like the daisies?” Draco asked.

“Kingsley! Alert St. Mungos! We can’t apparate, they’ll have to come! NOW!” She bellowed.

“Did you like the daisies?” again.

“What hurts? What spell was used?” She began asking him questions, spilling out spells to stop-

“Aren’t you listening Granger or is that stick in your ass too high in your head now for you to hear me?”

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She whipped around in her tight black skirt, red loose work blouse, and hair at her shoulders, eyes blazing.

“Excuse me?” she asked him. Draco had been trying her since he got hired on. Making smart remarks, using her interns to do his dirty work. He wouldn’t insult her status being below him as he did when he was younger, but other things. Stare at her, be civil. Like he was itching to just blow up and let it out all out of how he hated her.

“I said is that stick too far up your as-“ He started.

“Shut it ferret.” She snapped and began to walk away.

“Look Granger, I need some interns to do some research for me.” He followed her.

“No.”

“Why?”

“Do your own dirty work.” She snipped.

He snapped. Catching up, he caught her wrist, dragged her back to an empty and slammed the door shut. He pushed her over to the clean desk, forced her to sit on it and stood back, looking at her, eyes hard.

Before she could speak, he pointed a finger in her face.

“I know what I was like at Hogwarts. I know the things I said, I know the actions I carried out. I remember the prejudice ways I was brought up with. I have moved on from it though. I fucking grew up. You being all high and mighty Granger doesn’t change it and never will. I’ve been cleared off all accusations that deal with the war. I’ve worked hard to get where I am here, to earn respect and trust.” He took a deep breath.

He could see her fuming, arms crossed, foot tapping the floor.

“Everyone has returned it but you. I’ve tried, Merlin fucking knows I’ve tried with you. I’ve tried even more with you than others.” She scoffed at his statement. He moved forward, his nose almost touching her, putting his hands on either side of her on the desk. She couldn’t help but inhale his scent.

“Now put on your witch panties, stop being a bitch Granger, and let me do my job by using your damn interns what they’re for, the dirty work.” He commanded, he voice low. She shuddered and hoped he didn’t see it.

“For years,” he continued, “you’ve been so damn blinded by your own judging tendencies to see what’s right in front you. To see the past be moved on from, but you’re still there! Still hating. Still putting yourself on a pedestal.”

“You’re mental!” She finally yelled.

“NO! I’ve been nothing bu-“
“MENTAL!” She screamed.

He slammed his hands down on the desk and she flinched.

“Did you like the daisies?” He snapped.

What?

“The daisies on your desk, every week for the past year.” He explained.

“Did you like, the daisies?” He asked again.

She froze.

“I sent them!” Draco roared.

“I sent them every week for the past year! Your favorite flower! I am the one who sends them Granger. ME!”

“Shut up!” She snapped.

“I sent them. Everyweek. I’ve moved past my past, and every inch I moved past it, I moved toward you and it’s fucking driving me crazy because I don’t know why! You’ve gotten under my skin witch and even though you still hate me it doesn’t stop it.” He confessed.

SMACK!

She slapped him. It stung like hell, and he loved it.

“I tried, and I’ve tried but you won’t let it go. You hate me! How’s it feel Granger? To be what you use to hate?”

SMACK!

He growled like an animal when she done it again and captured her mouth with need.

She didn’t pull away.

In moments, she was panting his name... and he was growling out Hermione.

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“Did you like the daisies?” he voice fading.

She couldn’t focus. So much blood. His legs crushed. Her spells were not working!

Damn it!

“Y-yes,” she stammered out.

He smiled, she flinched. His mouth was bloodstained.

“Hey, P-Potter,” so soft of a whisper,” she didn’t smack me this time.”

Harry didn’t know what to say.

“I had a feeling,” Draco continued

Hush, please! Hermione thought.

“I’m glad I came in your place.”

‘YOU bastard! “ she screamed at him, “Kinglsey! Where the bloody hell is St. Mungos!?”

“I love you.”

“Malfoy, you are in so much trouble when we get out of this.” She interrupted him.

She remembers looking back, and learning why St. Mungos never came. Kingsley’s patronous made it, but not in time. His soul had left before they had the courage to try and apparate his broken body.

“I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you,” he could only whisper.

She grabbed his hand, he was trying to have his last words be those.

“Stop it!” she yelled louder. “Draco! STOP!”

“I love you, I love you.”

“I love you! Stop please! Stay!” she pleaded, crying.  He bled out two fast.

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The two most unlikely people in the world ended up falling in love. A magnificent example of love overpowering hate in the aftermath of war. Hermione carries those days of him with her forever. The days where he hated her, just because of the blood that flowed in her veins, to the days where he loved her just because of the way she crinkled her nose.

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She leaned down, putting her lips to his forehead, planting a kiss.

“I love you,” his voice fading.

“NO , NO, NO!” She screeched, her hands roaming everywhere trying to do something, anything. She muttered spells, anything. She never got to apologize for not forgetting the past. They had so many things to do, to see! Children to have. He worked so hard to earn her trust, her respect. He had, and she hadn’t told him.

“No, no, NO, NO!”

“Hermione, my Hermione,” so soft, such a whisper, “I love you.”

She sobbed into his chest, holding his hand.

His last breath left, lingering in the air, “I love you.”