Dramione Snippets

Safe.

The Astronomy Tower was quieter than she remembered.

Hermione had slipped through the halls unnoticed, her heart pounding harder with each step. It was reckless meeting like this, but she didn't care. She needed to see him. To know he was okay.

As she pushed the heavy door open, the cool night air wrapped around her, and there he was—standing at the edge, bathed in moonlight.

Draco.

Relief rushed through her so fast it nearly knocked the breath from her lungs.

He turned at the sound of her footsteps, his grey eyes wide for just a second before his whole body seemed to relax.

"You came," he murmured.

Hermione swallowed the lump in her throat. "Of course, I did."

A gust of wind rustled through the trees below, but neither of them moved. For a long moment, they just stood there, taking each other in. He looked tired—thinner than before, shadows clinging beneath his eyes—but he was here. Alive. Safe.

That was all that mattered.

She stepped forward, hesitant at first, but then Draco moved too, meeting her halfway. The space between them disappeared in an instant as he reached for her hands, gripping them tightly, as if he was afraid she might slip away.

Hermione let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. "I was so worried."

Draco's fingers tightened around hers. "I'm alright." His voice was quiet, almost disbelieving, like he wasn't sure he believed it himself. "And you?"

Hermione nodded, though she wasn't sure if she was telling the truth. "I am now."

His lips parted, like he wanted to say something, but no words came. Instead, he lifted a hand, hesitating only a moment before gently brushing a curl from her face. The warmth of the touch sent a shiver through her, not from the cold, but from the sheer relief of feeling him close again.

"We made it," he whispered.

Hermione blinked back the sting in her eyes. "We did."

And for the first time since the war had ended, she felt like she could finally breathe.

The stars stretched endlessly above them, but in this quiet moment, the only thing that mattered was here.

Them.

.

.

.

As the wind whispered around them, carrying the distant sounds of the castle—laughter, footsteps, a faint murmur of a world that was moving on. But up here, beneath the endless sky, time felt suspended.

Draco's thumb traced slow circles against the back of her hand, hesitant, as if he still wasn't sure this was real. Hermione squeezed his fingers in silent reassurance.

"We can't keep meeting like this," Draco murmured, though there was no conviction behind his words.

Hermione sighed. "I know."

They both knew the risks. Their pasts, their names—everything about them had been built to keep them apart. But standing here, with his warmth grounding her, none of that seemed to matter.

Draco exhaled, dropping his forehead against hers. "I don't want to let you go."

Hermione closed her eyes, drinking in the closeness, the steady rhythm of his breath mixing with hers.

"Then don't," she whispered.

A pause. A heartbeat. And then, slowly, he tilted his head, closing the space between them.

It wasn't rushed or desperate. It was careful, as if they had all the time in the world. His lips brushed against hers in the softest of touches, a quiet promise, a silent relief.

Hermione melted into him, her hands gripping the fabric of his coat, holding him steady as the world faded away. The kiss was nothing like the war—there was no fear, no urgency—just them, finally finding a moment of peace in the chaos.

When they pulled apart, Draco's gaze searched hers, as if committing this moment to memory.

"I'll find a way," he said softly. "For us."

Hermione smiled, threading her fingers through his.

"We already have."

And beneath the moonlight, with nothing but the stars as witnesses, they chose each other again.