isthisselfcare

“Yes – of course – you’re right. These are my family rings.” He paused, took a breath, and continued. “And I’d – what I’m trying to say – badly – is that I’d like you to be part of my family. Or – for me to be part of yours. Or for us to make a new one, together – or any iteration you’d like. What I’m trying to ask is – if you’d give it a go with me–”

His voice caught. Now she was beginning to understand. Her lips parted. A few snowflakes drifted down and caught in her hair, on the rose, and left melting kisses on her cheek.

“Potter and Weasley asked me what my – intentions were, with you,” continued Draco. “And I hadn’t an answer – didn’t know I had any. But I do. I want to be with you – in whatever capacity you'll have me.”

Now there were tears in her eyes.

He forged ahead – it was too late to turn back now. “I love you – I adore you – I want us to be together. Together-together. I, frankly, would like to spend the rest of my life with you, but we can do stupid dates first, or a proper courtship, or – an engagement (though I rather think that we got engaged in March, as much as you would deny it) – or anything you’d like.”

She gasped out a sob that was, somehow, also a sound of delight. “Are you asking me to marry you?”

“Yes – I am. If you want to – obviously – but I would also be happy simply being with you – whatever that might mean – whatever you’d like it to mean. I don’t bloody know – I’m rubbish at this. Something about you reduces me to a blithering fool. I realise asking for the rest of our lives is probably too much, too fast, so–”

“Yes,” said Granger.

“Yes?” repeated Draco. “You – want to?”

When asked when he’d arrived in Oxford, Draco said, “This morning.” When asked what he was doing in Oxford, he said “Doctor Granger.”

I don’t want anyone sticking a stethoscope up my bum.”

“No one sticks stethoscopes up anyone’s bums,”

And, speaking of bums, let it be known that Draco absolutely did not check hers out, nor did he find the view pleasing at all, nor did he slow down on purpose to watch her.

Separately, with no connection whatsoever to Granger's bum, Draco concluded that robes were overrated.

but his focus kept drifting to the feeling of Granger’s shoulder pressing into his arm, and her leg touching his under the table.

Narcissa Malfoy would’ve had a heart attack just looking at the greasy things, oozing with three different kinds of cheese.

“You’re meant to be watching over me,” she said. “Not the other way round.”

“That pole came out of bloody nowhere,” said Draco into Granger’s hair.

“You’re rather clever. With all the – the diagrams, and the malts, and carts, and things,” said Draco. It felt important that she know this.

She gave him a sideways glance in the dark. “Thank you. And please stop, you’re frightening when you’re nice.”

“Go back to making fun of my hair.”

“Fine. It’s horrid. You should shave it off.”

“Better,” said Granger.

“Don’t actually, though,” said Draco.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

Yes, Tonks. She broke her neck falling down a hill. I thrusted into her too hard. Yes, it was an accident. Yes, she’s dead. Please return my body to my mother in the fewest pieces possible.