Loving someone regardless of age. Draco believes that even if he's older than Hermione, it will never be a problem. Everyone except him disagrees.
Draco met her when she was 11—young, innocent, and free from the harshness of the world. He wasn't in love with her then; in fact, he hated her existence because Malfoys were raised to believe they were better than everyone. However, Hermione's greatness overshadowed her "filthy" blood.
He ALWAYS gets what he wants. So, when he told his mother he wanted her, it was as good as done. Thank Narcissa for giving her son what he asked for, no matter what.
"Draco?" Finally, he heard her voice. This made his day—no, his week, or even his year. Hermione finally talked to him.
"Are you finally sorry? I already told you; you married a pure-blood man, not a filthy Mudblood or that Weasley. You should always submit to me," he said matter-of-factly. Hermione didn't answer. As always, she stayed silent, which only infuriated Draco further.
"Why are you back at this again? Must you treat me with silence every time I try to talk to you?" Draco hated Hermione's silent treatment more than Voldemort living in his home. He fought against the urge to shout at her because he had read in a book that modern witches don't like their wizards raising their voices. What more of his beloved, bossy Muggle-born?
In fact, they weren't always like this. They rarely fought, and she seldom treated him with silence. It didn't stop him from hating every second of it.
"Fine, we'll talk about it later, but you must remember that we will resolve this," he conceded, glancing at her form before leaving his room. It's safe to say he was still mesmerized by her beauty.
Draco just left his room, but he already missed her. Merlin, it was hard being in love with the witch. He just wanted to be with her every day, to ask her questions so she'd talk to him. He smiled, remembering how they had first talked with no animosity—the start of their love story.
Draco was in the library, reading a book as a reference for his essays. He raised his head, annoyed, when he heard her voice. She was at the next table, facing him.
"Why are you reading something that's advanced for your age?" Hermione asked him, her tone surprisingly casual. He eyed her books; they were far more advanced for her kind and level.
"I didn't know you were a snooper, Granger," he said casually. Draco himself was surprised.
"I'm just curious because I don't see you as someone who knows things." He rolled his eyes.
"First of all, you don't really know me, and you're not the only smart person in the room. I didn't judge you for reading that," he said, pointing to the advanced book she was holding before continuing with his reading. A silence followed them.
"Okay, fine. I started it, so I'm sorry." He raised his eyes again, hiding his shock with a forced smile and a nod.
His side was always fighting against hers, so Draco didn't know how to be nice to her. Come to think of it, he wasn't nice to his friends either. Wait, why would he be nice to her?
While doing his assignment in the following days, Draco realized that Hermione was always in the library, alone. He smiled because he didn't see her silly friends, Potter and Weasley. She should drop them because they were weighing her down.
The next day, she was in the same spot, but this time, Hermione was with Draco. They weren't talking at first, just two people sharing a table, but as the weeks went by, they started seeing each other in a new light. They were friends.
"I can't believe you're friends with Potter and his gang," he said out of the blue. Actually, he did this just to get a reaction from her. They had been silent for a minute, and that wouldn't do.
"Well, can you also believe that I'm friends with you?" she retorted, her eyes still on her book. He feigned getting hurt.
"I didn't know you thought so lowly of me." He only got her brow raised this time. Damn, getting his witch to talk was really hard, but he just knew what to say next.
He asked her questions until one changed into something unrelated to books. It was about their relationship.
"If I wanted to change our friendship into something romantic, would you take a chance with me?" He was nervous—really nervous—but his mother said that she had it all covered.
"I thought you'd never ask," she said, and she kissed him. She was really sweet, he thought so then—not mud but cherries.
He still thinks that she's sweet, even now that they are married. She's married to him; that's all that matters. Now that he thought about it, it was primarily his mother's credit. He should visit her later because he will cook for Hermione first. He also took a bite to perfect the taste.
After eating, Draco apparated to Malfoy Manor, much to his mother's surprise. He laughed; his mother's eyes widened at the sight of him.
"Draco, you're here! I've been looking everywhere for you!" his mother exclaimed as she hugged him, her eyes observing his looks.
"Mother, you could've just flooed to our home. Hermione permitted your access, you know. Don't worry; I already explained everything to her. She's not mad at you, but Father is not that lucky." He felt his mother stiffen, but he didn't care and guided her to sit on their sofa.
"Hermione?" His mother asked, which made him chuckle. His mother is teasing him again.
"Yes, Mother. The golden girl Hermione Jean Malfoy, née Granger, my wife, who's 19 while I'm 25," he said, trying to amuse his mother. She smiled as well.
"Right, but my dragon, you didn't tell me where your home is located," she said. Maybe Hermione did a Fidelius Charm on their home.
"Mother, you already went there. You literally visited us last month. We live in Hampstead, near her parents' home." He laughed again, but his laughter vanished when he was hit with a body-bind spell.
"I'm sorry, my dragon. It was for the best," his mother said before she stupefied him.
"Tippy, call for our healer, and Mippy, tell Harry Potter that I found my son," Narcissa told her elves as she picked up her son's wand. This was no longer a time for her to dote on her son. He needs her help, and she can't do it alone. When the one who can help her is far away, her friend can assist.
When their healer arrived, they were told that Draco was physically healthy. They were all thinking the same thing; Draco must've thought that he was eating with her.
"Draco thinks that he’s married to her. She’s still 19 to him," she told Harry, who was standing at the edge of Draco’s bed. His face looked sad when he heard it.
"Hermione's forever 19 to all of us," he said sadly. She was shocked. The world has no clue that the golden girl is dead.
"Then how can we help my son?" Harry could only shake his head, ignoring the fact that Narcissa was only focused on her son.
"I know a good mind healer who’s also a therapist. He's a very capable lad. I will refer you to him," he said, looking at Draco with pity. He stood up from the chair, intending to end the conversation.
"When we lost Hermione, I was devastated as well, but she made me promise not to tell Draco. She really loves your son, but she’s afraid that when her condition worsens, he will follow her to his death," he revealed. Narcissa was glad that Hermione loved her son in the end, but she was afraid that no one, not even her, could help Draco now that Hermione was gone.
***
Draco Malfoy loves his wife very much. He hated that he was a bigoted piece of trash to her when they were at Hogwarts. If he could travel back in time, he would scold his younger self for hurting her and wasting their time together.
He would lead her away from the stupid duo and have her for himself. If that can’t happen because he knows she’ll hate it, then he would be content with being a positive part of her life. He would even befriend her friends.
Draco is happy with his life right now. He is really glad that she insulted him in the library back then because now they are 19 and 29, married for 11 years.
Their age gap might be 10 years, but their love for each other is the same.