Author's Note: This is a gift-fic for LadiePhoenix007. It is also my first Dramione. I hope you enjoy :) Graphic by the wonderfully talented and extremely generous upthehillart over on tumblr. Thank you, thank you, thank you!

Thanks, Worthfull1

P.S. I own nothing, anything recognizable belongs to the lovely Ms. Rowling.

Movin' On Up

A single lamp burned in the bedroom window of a small, cozy cottage that sat at the end of the lane on the outskirts of Hogsmeade...

"Mmm… Draco… there… " Hermione moaned as her boyfriend rocked in and out of her, steadily picking up the pace now that he'd found the perfect angle, gazing down into her eyes and watching the flush on her chest deepen.

"Fuck, Granger," Draco swore quietly. "Always so fucking tight." Beads of sweat appeared on his forehead and his platinum hair clung to his slick skin as he worked her higher, fighting like hell against his own release.

Hermione ran her hands up and down the straining arms braced on either side of her before wrapping her own arms around Draco's body and dragging her nails down his back just hard enough to not be called gentle. Draco moaned low and leaned down to take her mouth just as a large ball of fur leaped onto the bed and gave a loud yowl.

"Argh! Fuck! That fucking cat!" Draco shouted, losing his rhythm and his temper. "I swear to fucking Merlin I'm going to skin the beast alive and cook him in a stew!"

Hermione couldn't help it - she giggled, moving on to a full laugh when Draco turned his glare on her. It bordered on cruel, she knew, but the sight of an aroused, enraged Draco Malfoy was unbelievably funny.

"I'm sorry, love. Really, I am," she said, cupping his red face in her hands. "But I just don't get why you hate him so badly."

Draco spluttered. "Granger, he just interrupted sex!" he said, as though this explained everything. "He interrupted me having sex. With you," he added, knowing the appearance of her being an afterthought would rankle her just a bit. "And it doesn't help that he's fucking ginger."

Hermione smiled. "Ah," she said. "Now I understand."

"You understand fuck all," he grumbled.

"Oh, yes? So my cat doesn't remind you of my ex?"

The smug look on her face was one she'd adopted from him and he would gladly die a painful death before admitting that she was more skilled at it than he was, despite two decades less practice. Rather, he narrowed his eyes at her, ignoring her question, and rolled his hips, bringing her back to the task at hand. His grin was full of sinful promise as her expression melted. She had said she wanted to enjoy her last night in the cottage...

"Bloody hell, Hermione," Ron gasped, straightening up painfully and rubbing his lower back. "Why, in the name of Merlin's left nut, did you have to rent the top floor penthouse?"

"I didn't," she said simply, stepping around the boxes he'd planted outside the door and digging her keys out of the purple bag she still carried. "I bought it. Well, Draco bought it, if you want to get technical." She unlocked the door. "What?" she asked, catching his gobsmacked face out of the corner of her eye.

Ron shook himself. "Malfoy bought a penthouse flat in a muggle building in a muggle part of town?" he asked slowly, waiting for her to correct him. "Malfoy? Draco Malfoy? The Fantastic Ferret of Fourth Year?"

Hermione sighed. "Don't call him that, Ron."

"Why not? He was a fantastic ferret. Much better than when he was human."

"Ronald - "

"Tell me, Weasel," Draco interrupted as he came out of the lift. "How is it that your ex-girlfriend is still capable of manipulating her into helping her move?"

"She's still my friend, ferret. Best friend. And that's what friends do. I'll explain the concept to you later."

"What concept? Remaining whipped by a woman whose… finer points… you're no longer allowed to access? You're right, I don't get it."

"Enough," Hermione growled. "I refuse to be the point of contention in your 'whose dick is bigger' contest." She fixed them each a glare, daring either to retort but, even though Draco's eyebrow remained cocked at an amused angle, both men were smart enough to stay quiet. For the moment.

Temporarily satisfied, Hermione opened the door wider and waved them both in. Draco swaggered into the flat with Ron following, carrying the boxes in and glaring holes in the back of Draco's head.

"Want this stuff anywhere specific, Hermione?" Harry asked, standing at the doorway with his wand out, directing a line of boxes, furniture and various miscellaneous items into the flat.

"Oi!" Ron shouted, outraged. "How're you using magic? This is a muggle building, Harry!"

"Yeah, but the lift ends at the penthouse, Ron," Harry said. "There's nobody else on this floor, so there's nobody to see if I use magic. I mean, you don't really think Hermione and Draco won't use magic when they're at home, do you?"

"Yeah, but - " Ron still looked confused, "how did you get so much up here?" he asked, watching the room fill up with stuff.

Harry shrugged. "The freight lift. You can get tons of stuff in there."

Draco snorted. "Honestly, Weasel," he drawled.

"Draco," Hermione called, a warning tone in her voice. "I'm willing to bet you've never heard of a freight lift, either."

"Ah, now there's where you'd be wrong, love," he said, tugging her close to him and nuzzling her hair. "Because I know everything about everything." Hermione scoffed and he chuckled before releasing her. "Potter," he greeted the other wizard.

Harry smiled. "Good morning, Draco."

Draco scowled and left the room. Hermione laughed and Harry grinned at her. He'd discovered soon after Draco and Hermione began dating that being civil to Draco irritated him, and being nice turned out to be so much fun that Harry hadn't said a cross word to the blond in nearly two years.

"I would say that I hope he's not like that with you, Hermione, but I know you wouldn't stay with him if he was, so… " Ron trailed off.

"You know I can take care of myself, Ron."

"I know. I know that better than anyone except Harry, probably. Doesn't mean I'll stop looking out for you, though."

Hermione smiled at him. "I know. Just like I keep an eye on you two."

"Good thing, too." Ron smiled back before frowning. "Does it absolutely have to be Malfoy?"

Harry laughed as he watched Hermione's eyes narrow and, recognizing an oncoming rant, said, "C'mon, Ron. Let's go back down together and I'll show you how to work the lift. It'll give you something to explain to your Dad later."

Hermione huffed and put her hands on her hips as she watched the boys leave the flat.

"Are they gone?" came Draco's voice behind her.

"Momentarily." She turned to him. "Did you need me?"

His scowl softened. "Always."

Hermione sauntered over to him and wrapped her arms around his middle. Leaning up, she kissed him sweetly.

"You sure you're still okay with this?" he asked, gesturing to the penthouse. "You don't just think I'm being pompous and buying it because I can?"

"A bit, yeah," she teased, kissing him again when he pouted. "But you wouldn't be you if you weren't a little pompous occasionally." She sighed. "I will miss my little cottage, though."

"No, you won't."

"Hmm?" She frowned and cocked her head.

Draco hesitated a moment. "I - well, I may have bought that as well. And possibly put it in your name. Just in case."

"I don't understand. In case of what?"

He pursed his lips and looked away from her, taking a deep breath. "In case you say no." In a swift move, he reached into his pocket, pulling out a small, square box and dropped to one knee before her.

Hermione gasped loudly and backed up a step, hands flying to her mouth and eyes going impossibly wide.

Draco loved those eyes. They weren't 'pools of chocolate' as the idiot ginger had once drunkenly described; no, they were fine amber jewels - sparkling like expensive stones when she laughed, and streaks of gold showing like tiger stripes when she was angry.

"If you think I'm going to go into a grand speech with Pinky and Perky ten feet away from the door, you're out of your mind," he said, and she snorted. "I'll give you poems and declarations of affection later. Right now, I'd just like a yes or a no. Will you marry me?"

Hermione was struck dumb as she stared at him, watching try and fail to keep the uncertainty out of his gaze. She reached out and carded loving fingers through his hair, sniffling a bit at the emotions swirling through her.

"Yes," she breathed, chuckling when the Malfoy cockiness sprang back and suddenly he was on his feet, blue eyes dancing as he swooped in, capturing her lips. She laughed into the kiss, knowing that only she ever got to see this side of him. The mask fell away and she could see his strength and vulnerability together - both sides of the man in full view.

And only for her.


Hermione squeaked and jumped back, a blush creeping up as she wiped the tears that had escaped down her cheeks. Draco's hands came up and gently brushed them away, his action loving, but his expression told her that he knew Harry and Ron had been in sight when he'd kissed her.

Still, she supposed she could forgive him since he was about to put a ring on her finger…

"Oh, Draco!" she exclaimed when he opened the box and showed her the rock.

"Yes, my love?" he asked smugly.

"That's hideous!" She looked up at him. "I'm not wearing that!"

Draco's eyes flashed. He'd spent a fair bit of time picking out that ring. "What do you mean?"

"I'll marry you, but I'm not wearing that ring," Hermione insisted. "That thing's awful."

Draco's face darkened and he called upon every bit of restraint he had as he heard snickering behind him. "Fine," he ground out. "We'll take it back tomorrow and get you one you like."

Hermione shook her head. "It'll have to wait until next weekend, darling. You know I'm working late all this week."

Draco growled, but nodded. Swallowing a bit of pride was worth it, he decided, when she beamed at him and kissed him soundly once again before heading off to sort through the second round of stuff Harry and Ron had brought up.

"It'll have to be smaller, mate," Ron said, stepping up to Draco and smiling when the blond glared. "I'm being serious. She may not be the same woman I dated, but I still know her well enough to know that she won't want to wear anything bigger than her own hand."

"And why should I trust anything you say?" Draco asked caustically.

"It's true, Draco," Harry said. "Hermione may be your girl- er, fiancé," he corrected himself, "but we've been her best friends for over a decade and we do know a thing or two about her."

Draco eyed Harry and shrugged. "Doesn't matter what any of us think. She's the one who's going to be wearing it, so she gets to choose what it'll be," he said, then sneered when both men looked at him as though they approved. Fuck their approval. He didn't need it.

She'd said yes, and that was all the approval he needed.

Author's Note: Thanks for reading!