Draco threw the copy of Hogwarts, A History, across the room. Images of her keep popping into his head, no matter how hard he pushes them away.
He knew he wasn't allowed to love a mudblood, but he couldn't help it. She was too beautiful. Her brown hair, her chocolate eyes, her everything.
'Stop it Draco. You can't keep doing this.' He thought. 'Father will find out eventually if you keep this up. And besides, it's Christmas.'
He stood and crossed the room. He picked up the book and placed it on his desk. He got his coat from the hanger, closed the lights, and headed home.
Under some circumstances, it was good to be back. Nowadays, it wasn't. He kept thinking about her, and he knew he would be punished for it, even if he was a grown man and the head Healer.
During dinner, he just stared at his chocolate ice cream. He was suddenly reminded of chocolate eyes, the eyes of the Granger. He pushed the thought away.
He took a spoonful and shoved it in his mouth, which caused him to gag. He never liked chocolate. He only liked it because of her eyes, but not because of its taste.
"Draco," His mother sounded surprised. "Are you alright?"
"Why are you suddenly eating chocolate ice cream? Is it part of the job or because of that mudblood?" His father inquired.
"No, it's nothing." Draco quietly murmured, while dabbing his mouth. His father wasn't convinced; he knew whether his son was lying or not. He stopped for a moment. "What made you come to that conclusion?"
"Look, Draco, I know you love her." His father said, struggling to get the words out. "And you can never control who you love. So go after her. Go tell her, because she won't wait forever." Draco looked at his father in disbelief.
"You're allowing me?" Draco questioned him, careful not to let joy and excitement overwhelm him, and just a tad bit curious as to what led to his father's change of heart. His father nodded.
Draco got up, and went to his room to write a letter.
Meet me on the hill overlooking the Shrieking Shack tomorrow at sunset.
Upon receiving the letter, Hermione's expression was somewhere in between shock and worry.
'Does he need help brewing a potion again?' She thought.
Just then there was a knock on her door, interrupting her thoughts. She stood up, set her letter down on her bed, folded her last t-shirt, set it down near her suitcase, and made her way to the door of her apartment. She opened it and found a familiar ginger on her doorstep.
"Ron!" Hermione exclaimed. "I - I wasn't expecting you, I mean, not today. It's 2 days before Christmas, and I was in the middle of packing."
"Packing?" Ron was caught by surprise.
"I'm sleeping over at your place, remember?"
"Oh. Right. Um, well, Mum said to pick you up, just in case you - just in case you -" Ron's eyes kept looking around, and spotted a number of gifts, sitting under her Christmas tree. "Just in case you need help carrying your gifts."
Now it was Hermione's turn to look shocked.
"Oh, well, I'll finish packing, then." Hermione said as she ushered Ron into her living room to wait. "Would you like some tea, while waiting?"
Ron nodded, accepting her offer. Hermione disappeared into the kitchen.
Ron took advantage of her absence by taking several deep breaths and taking a small pouch out of his pocket. 'You can do this Ron. If Harry can defeat Lord Voldemort, then you can propose to Hermione.'
Hermione reappeared in her living room a moment later, carrying a tray of tea. She setit down. On it were two cups made of delicate china and decorated with leaves, with a teapot to match. She poured the tea into the cups, without noticing Ron, who was fidgeting. She took a sip, and stood up.
"I think I'd better finish packing, so you -"
"Hermione, wait." Ron touched her arm lightly. "Um, there's something I want to show you." Hermione sat back down, a little uncertainly. Ron took a deep breath.
"I guess I never really got to say thank you, for saving us. If it weren't for you, we wouldn't have achieved everything we did." Ron fished something out of his pocket. It looked like a cookie folded in different angles. Hermione realized that it was a fortune cookie. "To say thanks, a brought you a fortune cookie."
Hermione looked at him with curiosity.
"They're supposed to bring you good fortune." Ron said. He was twisting his hands, a small gesture he did when he was nervous.
But she wasn't aware Ron said that, because only one question was on her mind: 'Where did he get that?'
She took it from him, and cracked it open. As usual, there was a small paper inside. She took it out and read it. Her eyes got so big, Ron thought they would get out of their sockets.
There, written on the paper, instead of the usual fortune, were four words Hermione never thought would be addressed to her.
Will you marry me?