I was thinking about writing this in Hermione's POV as well, but...you'll have to let me know. Lots of reviews people!
I OWN NOTHING!
I watched as she stood in front of the window, the moonlight dancing on her face. It picked up the golden highlights in her hair, I noticed her eyes glowing; whether it was the light or the fresh tears that were starting to build, I didn't know. I desperately wanted to leave the comfort of my bedroom doorway and console her, to be honest; desperate wasn't the word. I was Head Boy for Slytherin and she was the Head Girl for Gryffindor; for some strange reason our muggle loving Headmaster had thought it would be a good learning experience for a pure blood to live with a filthy mudblood. Learning experience my ass, it was a complete catastrophe. I didn't know what to expect at first, I thought that she would try to murder me in my sleep or put poison in my pumpkin juice. I can't even begin to tell you how wrong I was, she cleaned after me, cooked me food…she'd even put an anti-wrinkle spell on my robes. It was like we were married except there was no intimacy. I'd gotten close to her in the four months since school began; I saw all her weaknesses, how self-conscious she was, how she carried around an immense amount of self-hatred. I watched as during the day she used her intelligence to protect herself from all the hateful things that people said about her; and at night she locked herself in the confines of her room and cried, trying to use the shower as a cover up. At first I ignored it, but as the days turned into weeks, it started to rip me apart inside. To try and tell you how many times I stood outside her door, battling my emotions as I listened to her pain would be futile because I lost count after the second month. I would never deny the fact that Hermione Granger was a beautiful woman, I just hadn't known how beautiful she was; inside and out, despite the agony she felt.
She proved to me how caring she was when I woke up one morning sicker than I have ever been in my life. She held a cold washcloth to my face as I sweated in an intense fever for almost three days, changed my sheets every time I missed the basin she'd set by my bed, she had even made me soup and fed it to me. Her complete disregard for her own health as she was nursing me came into full view a few days after I had healed, because of her lack of sleep she'd gotten sicker than I was. I was stunned that she had done something so kind for me after I had been so horrible to her so I did the only thing that I could think of; I nursed her back to health as well. It was then that I noticed the marks on her arms, horrible battle scars that she had obviously inflicted upon herself. The hurt that ripped through me was the most intense that I had ever felt and I swore to her while she was sleeping that I would do whatever it took to make her realize how incredible she was. I sat by her bed and watched as she slept, I watched her battle her self-loathing in her dreams. I saw how her beautiful face contorted into agony and how the tears slipped down her cheeks onto the pillow beneath her chocolate hair. That was the first night that I held her and whispered in her ear that everything would be okay; that I would do anything to make her okay. I did what I could over the next couple of weeks, every night I would go into her room and hold her close as she slept. I started getting pissed off every time somebody said something snide to her; I almost ripped off Pansy's head in Potions one day. Hermione had just rolled her eyes and turned her back to her, nobody but me knew what those words did to her; nobody but me knew the pain that she felt and hid.
I will forever remember the morning I woke up to see her small figure curled up next to me on her bed; her big brown eyes boring into my face, full of questions and confusion. I had smiled at her and told her everything will be alright, I promised her that I would stay as long as she needed me to and as her face crumpled and tears spilled down her cheeks I pulled her close to me. I held her tight as her body was racked with pain filled sobs; I smoothed her hair as my eyes stung with my own tears. I whispered the things that I had been telling her in her sleep as her cries subsided and her small hands clutched my shirt. By the time she had fallen asleep in my arms, I had realized that I, Draco Malfoy, was completely in love with Hermione Granger. Her pain was my pain, her tears were my tears, I wanted her to be mine and only be mine but more importantly, I wanted to be hers and only hers.
That was the night that I had pledged myself to her, and as I stood there in my doorway I realized that her eyes were indeed glowing from tears; I whipped my robe off and walked towards her. She noticed my movements and turned her face to me as the tears started to fall. I wiped her hurt away with my thumbs and kissed her forehead softly, her arms automatically wrapping themselves around my waist as I pulled her towards me. I used to believe that by holding her I could crush the pain out of her but as time had worn on, I noticed that her grief went deeper than that. I had made her promise me a couple of weeks ago that she would stop cutting herself, she had only agreed after I had fallen to my knees and begged her with words and sobs. I told her that if she had ever felt the need to hurt herself that she would come find me. She always kept her promise, she stood by the window near my bedroom door as she had done tonight, and I always held her close as she cried. It always hurt me to hear her but I could never think of anything to say to her and that always made my agony worse. She always told me while she cried that she was a good person, that her parents were good people…that she didn't have dirty blood. She would look at me after she spoke those words, eyes shining and beg me to make them stop; then she would dissolve into sobs again as my own tears started their journey down my pale cheeks. I knew that I couldn't make them stop and it killed me, I could make sure that they didn't say anything while I was present, but while I was away there was nothing I could do. This night was no different, she did her begging and I cried with her before things changed.
It started when she looked at me with those eyes, the eyes that held me captive with their soft brown and gold color. She stood on her tiptoes and pressed her lips to mine so gently that I would have missed it if she hadn't opened her mouth and flicked her tongue on my bottom lip. I groaned as I opened my mouth then and our tongues started the oldest dance known to mankind. I pulled her closer to me, practically crushing her in my arms as my hand was lost in her thick chestnut hair. I felt a moan escape my mouth the same time she let one slip and it set my body on fire. We broke apart unwillingly, only because we were lightheaded from the lack of oxygen. I closed my eyes as I was panting for air and tried to memorize the feeling of her hands on my neckline and how her fingers had laced themselves in the soft hair at the nape of my neck. She kissed the hollow beneath my ear and I had to bite my lip to suppress a loud moan, she whispered my name and the sound almost brought me to my knees. I picked her up and carried her into my room, laying her on my bed gently. We continued to kiss as my hands worked with the buttons of her shirt. I felt her hands on my belt buckle, wrestling with it as she tried to undo it. She kept saying my name, whispering it softly as her lips went from my neck to my chest and back again. All too soon I realized that our clothes were gone and she was underneath me; naked and amazingly beautiful.
We made love then, and it was soft and gentle and tender, something I'd never experienced before. Every touch was beautiful, so simple but meant so much to me. Her hands were tangled in my hair as I moved with her, as I took her innocence as mine, as she made me feel things that I'd never felt before. To be inside of her was like standing on an edge of a rocky cliff, at any moment I would fall and be lost in the waves as they pulled me under. We cried out and moaned together as we drove ourselves to our release, and by the time she had met hers I lost my bearings and spilled myself deep inside of her with a loud cry. My face was buried in her neck as I tried to catch my breath, her heart was pounding in my ears as she whimpered and held onto my body. As much as I didn't want to, I removed myself from her body making us two again instead of one and laid beside her, cradling her body with my arms; her head on my chest. As our breathing returned to normal, I whispered in her ear how much I loved her, how much I wanted to marry her, I told her how I wanted to make love to her every night and how I wanted her to have my babies. I asked her to be mine and for me to be hers, and I can tell you that she answered me honestly and lovingly when she said that she didn't want me to belong to anyone else, and that she didn't want anyone else inside her heart.
It's been several years since that night when we promised ourselves to each other, and the way that I felt for her hadn't changed. My parents accepted her with open arms, surprising both me and her. We had a little boy whom we had just put to bed, after half an hour of goodnight kisses and hugs he had finally drifted to sleep in my arms; she swept the white blond hair off of his forehead and kissed his closed eyelids one final time before I pulled the blanket up around his chin. As she stood and walked out of the room, I gave my precious boy another kiss as well, momentarily stunned as I was every night at how much he looked like the love of my life as he slept. I shut the door behind me and stood beside her as she looked out the window, after all of these years, she still kept her promise. I banished most of her pain that first night that I had made love to her, but I wasn't stupid enough to think that all of it was gone. She'd told me once that I was her saving grace, but what she didn't realize was that she was mine. I hugged her from behind and placed a hand on the swollen belly that held my baby. My heart swelled when I remembered that in less than a month I would hold my new baby girl; putting my hand on the small of her back I guided her to our bedroom. I made love to her as I have almost every night since we got married, and every touch, sigh and moan was still as precious to me as it was that first night. As she drifted off to sleep in my arms, she whispered that she loved me, and I whispered in her ear that I loved her; that I always have, and that I always will; until the day that I die.