One-shot songfic to Taylor Swift's Wildest Dreams.

Post-war, snapshots over multiple years.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor Wildest Dreams. I make no money off of this work, and hold so much respect for the creators of the ideas I'm playing with.

It had started with a question.

Nothing more complicated than that.

She had been sitting at her office at St. Mungos, looking over the paperwork from a recent case of Dutch spitfire that had been brought in. She heard footsteps, but didn't take notice until they stopped in front of her desk.

She looked up to meet the piercing grey eyes of her co-worker, Draco Malfoy. The days of their enmity at Hogwarts were long past, and they had grown to quite enjoy each other's company working in the same department at the hospital.

It had always surprised Hermione that Draco had wanted to be a healer. Once, when she had asked him why the interest in healing. He had hesitated for a moment before responding.

"I want a chance to be save instead of destroy."

The afternoon that everything changed, Hermione looked up to meet Draco's eyes. He was staring down at her with an expression she didn't quite recognize.

"Yes, Draco?" she had asked, confusion evident in her voice.

He took a deep breath before proceeding, as if contemplating whether or not to say what he wanted to. A moment later he spoke.

"Would you like to get a drink with me after work?"

Nothing more complicated than that.

It had continued with a kiss.

Nothing more, nothing less.

He had walked her to her door after their second date. She had turned to face him, red-lipped and rosy cheeked.

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" she asked, timidly, brown eyes meeting grey.

He raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

"I mean…" She stumbled around for the words. "Starting something. You and me. We aren't exactly the most... traditional pairing."

"Traditions can change," he replied, taking a step forward. In response, she took a step back, hitting the door.

"Draco," she murmured. His eyes darkened at the use of his first name. "I'm… I just can't see this ending very well."

"Why not?" he responded, his eyes trailing down her face and resting on her lips.

She found it a little hard to breath. God, he's handsome as hell. "Because…Harry and Ron would explode. I know the war changed things, but do you honestly think society would accept us? This isn't…this isn't how things are supposed to be done."

A smirk played at the corner of his mouth. "Who said they had to know? Who said anyone needed to know?"

She stuttered. "What?"

His eyes met hers with an increased ferocity. "Why don't you try breaking the rules a bit, Granger? Playing in the dark can be fun."

Before she had a chance to respond, he had leaned forward and placed his lips on hers.

Nothing more, nothing less.

"Draco," she nearly gasped, as he pushed her against the wall of her small apartment. It had been three months since they had begun their relationship. Three months of meeting at late hours, secret rendezvous, and no explanations to her friends.

She still wasn't sure how her friends would react to it, but had decided they didn't need to know yet. She found she quite enjoyed hiding the lovebites on her neck and being late to meetings with no explanation of why she was so flustered.

There was something beautiful in the secrecy. Their moments belonged to them, and only to them.

He pushed her harder against the wall, kissing up and down her neck. His hands were in my hair. I grinded against him.

"Impatient, aren't we?" he murmured, his breath on her skin causing her heartbeat to race. She reached forward and grasped at his shirt, fumbling as she undid the buttons. He shrugged off his button-down, and it fell to the floor of her bedroom.

She offered no resistance as he moved his fingers up her thighs, with a gentleness and ferocity that has no business co-existing.

She felt him bite and nip her neck, and moaned at the feeling. The lovebite she would have in the morning would act as a reminder.

"You're mine, princess," he whispered, his fingers playing at the edge of her underwear. She pushed her hips forward, desperate for more contact. He obliged, slipping under the fabric and beginning to circle her. She felt the familiar rush of pleasure that he was always able to instill in her body.

Too soon, he brought his hand back. She opened her mouth to complain, but his lips were assaulting hers before she had a chance to say anything. She felt his hands reach around to lift her up. She wrapped her legs around his waist and fell deeper into the kiss.

He carried her over to the bed and positioned himself on top of her, never once breaking their kiss. He fumbled with his belt buckle and let his jeans drop, right before ripping away the final fabric barrier between them.

She gasped as he entered her, her nails digging into his back. She moaned as the wave of ecstasy rushed through her veins.

"Mine, princess," he growled, thrusting into her until she saw stars.

They were at the beach the first time he told her he loved her.

It was the end of a weekend trip they had taken to the south of France. The Malfoy family owned a summer home there. Amidst the ocean breezes and roses, they were able to be together without worry of being found out.

It had been six months. The thrill of the secret that had originally filled her heart had started to wane. She felt envious when she saw Harry place a kiss on Ginny's cheek, uncaring of who saw. She felt venomous when she saw other women at the hospital throw themselves at her boyfriend's body.

She wanted more than they had. She wanted something real. Permanent. She wanted to hold his hand in public and kiss him on the street. Yet, they were both unsure. Could they handle the reactions of those around them? Harry and Ron, his parents, the Wizarding World as a whole?

She stood in a lilac summer dress, staring at the paint streaked sunset, wondering if she could handle the scrutiny. Could she handle the anger? Could she handle the backlash?

She scoffed at the idea. She had survived a wizarding war. She could survive harsh words.

But was it worth it?

She didn't hear him approach her from behind. He wrapped his arms around her waist and rested his chin on her head.

"I wish we could stay here forever," he whispered, staring off as the beautiful day descending into night. "Like this. In this moment."

She was silent for a moment, as if contemplating something.

"Can you promise me something?" she asked, eyes downcast.

"Anything," he responded, planting a few butterfly kisses on her crown.

"Say you'll remember me," she whispered.

Draco lifted his chin up and gently turned her around to face him. He was frowning.

"What do you mean?"

She sighed. "If this, us, if it doesn't work…"

"Why are you saying this?" he asked, his eyes suddenly becoming frantically.

"I'm not ending things," she responded. "I just…if we don't work. If we start fighting and break up and hate each other, promise to remember me. Remember me the way we are today. With the sunset in the background and my lips bright red and the world perfect, for this one moment in time. If you leave or I leave or fate breaks us apart, promise me that you'll see me again, even if just in your wildest dreams."

He looked at her for a moment. His eyes were wide, with more vulnerability than she had ever seen.

"I'm not going to leave," he whispered, the pain in his voice evident. "I couldn't leave. I could never leave the woman I loved. Who ever could? Who ever would?"

Her breath caught in her throat and she stuttered her response. "L-l-love?" Shock filled her voice.

He chuckled at her reaction and wrapped her up in a tight embrace. Her head rested on his chest, and she wrapped her arms around his waist as if it was second nature.

"How could I not, Hermione Granger? You are so incredibly easy to love."

She couldn't help the tears of happiness that rolled down her cheeks.

"What do you want to do?" he demanded, crossing his arms at her. "It was your idea to be a secret in the first place."

"You wanted it too! You were the one who first brought it up," she replied, shaking with suppressed anger. "A year, Draco. We just had our one year and Ginny keeps asking me if she should set me up with her friends from Quidditch."

They were standing in her apartment, the only place they ever seemed to go. The secrecy had finally begun to put a strain on their relationship, and Hermione had cracked under the pressure.

"Do you think I don't want to go public?" he snapped, eyes narrowed. "It's just not realistic. The wartime tension still hasn't completely dissipated, your best friends would kill me for corrupting their flower, my parents would disown me…"

"I can deal with Harry and Ron," she responded. "They'll come around. The public energy is much better than it used to be. Maybe an ex-death eater and a muggleborn in love would help it. You're making excuses, Draco. You just don't want to deal with your parents."

"Why don't we just leave?" he asked, eyes looking around frantically. "Get out of this town. Out of this country. Away from the crowds. Away from anyone who might not understand."

She shook her head. "I'm not hiding love. Love is something that should be experience in the full light of day, not the dark shadows of night."

He paused. "I can't tell them. Not yet."

Hermione turned on her heel and headed for the door. "You can't avoid this forever."

He didn't say anything as she stormed from the room.

She offered him a choice. Two years after that first date, she finally stood up and made him choose.

She stood resolutely in front of the man she loved, and she broke her own heart in half.

"You either agree to go public," she said, voice stronger than she felt. "Or, you leave me."

His face went white. "What…what are you saying?"

She sighed. "I can't live in the dark anymore. I can't hide you from my friends, no my family."

"I thought I was your my family."

Tears began to spring to her eyes. "After dark, you are. In shady bars and our apartments or the south of France."

He began to shake his head slowly. "You can't be making me do this."

"I can't do it anymore!" she cried. "I can't live in secrecy. I wasn't born to live in the shadows. I want to walk down Diagon Alley holding your hand and kiss your cheek and be able to admit that I fell in love with Draco Malfoy."

She was breathing heavily, tears flowing down her cheeks without restraint. "It's killing me," she whispered. "I can't stay with you like this. So, it's your choice. Me, or the shadows."

Silence followed her proclamation.

He was white as a sheet, shaking in front of her. "I can't…I can't do it."

She felt a knife go through her heart.

"Then I hope you never forget."

He did nothing but remember.

Every waking moment was spent in memory of her. Of his beautiful love, standing in the sunset, the sky streaked behind her, her dress blowing lightly in the wind. Her toes, curling in the sand.

Every sleeping moment was spent in reverence of her. His dreams were filled with nothing but her, moaning beneath him, her lips moving softly against his. The feel of her. The feel of making love to her.

The feel of loving her.

He was a dead man walking as he made his way through life. Hermione Granger followed him everywhere. Awake, asleep, working, relaxing, living, and probably dying.

She transferred to the Ministry, to the department of Potions. He didn't see her again after that day. Except for in his dreams.

Always in his dreams.

A year after she had left he lost his resolve. The image of her, always in his mind, had broken him down. It was killing him. In hindsight, he could see with perfect clarity what he had given up.

He had given up his sunset girl, the love of his life, in fear of his parents. Her face filled his mind.

He had given up any chance at happiness.

He barely knew where his feet were taking him before he ended up at her doorstep. His fist knocked without permission.

Her eyes were confused when she opened the door.

She looked the same as she always did. Her eyes were beautiful brown, her hair soft caramel.

"What do you want?" she said coldly, giving him an once-over.

"I choose you," he burst out. Her mouth popped open in shock. He took a few deep breaths. "I choose you. I don't need the dark. I need the sunset. I need the beauty, and the red lips, and the nice dress. I need the girl who I can do nothing but remember."

There was a pause before her face widened into a smile.

"I knew you could never forget."

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