Organized thinking...

He held her in his embrace, savoring the sweet smell of her hair. She encircled his neck with her arms, her grip tightening as she struggled for control. Tears soaked his shirt as she buried her face in his chest.

He pulled her away just enough to look into her eyes. He gently kissed her lips, and she murmured against his ears.

They pulled apart, unwillingly, slowly. He looked into her loving face, and thought of the words to say.

"Hermione, I..." He fumbled, his nervousness and excitement getting the best of him. "There's something I need to ask you."

She looked at him, her face still stained with tears. "What is it, Draco?"

He ran a hand through his already disheveled hair. The words poured out of his mouth before he could even contemplate putting the into any discernable order.

"Hermione, will you marry me? I know I'm a pureblood and you're a muggle-born, but I mean...Voldemort has been killed, we're both well established aurors, making good money. I think...I think this is the best choice for us...for me and you. Because, Hermione, I...this marriage is what we need because, it will strengthen our relationship. It will bring the departments of the ministry together. And I'm willing to give you anything you want. I'll...I'll buy you jewelry, I'll spend all my time with you, I'll get you anything in the world..." His words died in his throat. He knew before he finished that he had said the wrong words, again. Why did he always choose the most inopportune time to say the wrong thing. Why couldn't he just say what was in his heart?

She stood stock still as he made his proposal, her expressions changing rapidly from exuberant expectance, to sheer joy, quickly followed by dismay, disbelief, then finally settling on a barely held back rage.

"Anything I want?" she whispered, her voice all but hurling daggers into his heart. "Jewelry, or money, or a big house to show all you're pureblood friends? 'Look, I've tamed the mudblood! Look how well she enhances my social status!' Is that what you want me for?" She began to walk across the room.

A bolt of panic surging through him, he called her back, pleadingly.

She turned upon him, fury etched into every line of her face. "You think that's what I want, Draco? Money, jewelry, expensive things? I suppose you have houses all over the world now, don't you? And in return, I keep myself only for you? A mistress!? I will not let you make me into one of your trophies, Draco! There was only one thing I ever wanted from you, and you're too thick to even realize it! So go! Get out of my house!"

Draco stood there, unmoving. He held out his arm to her, begging her to come back into his embrace.

"Please, Hermione...I didn't-"

He ducked as the first object hit the wall behind where his head had been moments before. She held in her hands now a glass rose and a large silver trinket box.

"In case you didn't hear me," she said, every syllable trembling with anger, "I told you to get the fuck out of my house!"

The rose came whirling towards him. He ducked, but too late. Blinking blood out of his eyes, he saw her preparing to lob the box.

Rushing forward, he grabbed her by the wrists, forcing the box out of her grasp. She struggled, tears of anger streaming down her face, her hair flying wildly.

He began murmuring soothing words to her, trying to clear the dazed feeling that remained from the encounter with the glass flora.

"Hermione, I love you. That's why I want to marry you. No other reason is needed. Now I'll ask properly...Will you marry me?"

Her frantic movements slowed, and she allowed him to place his arms around her.

He held her in his embrace, savoring the sweet smell of her hair. She encircled his neck with her arms, her grip tightening as she struggled for control. Tears soaked his shirt as she buried her face in his chest.

He pulled her away just enough to look into her eyes. He gently kissed her lips, and she murmured against his ears, "Yes..."