For all practical purposes, Hermione didn’t much care for her birthday. It was just another day in her mind – one that more often than not was forgotten.

Two years before, her present from her parents had come a week late. She accepted their excuse about trying to figure out the magical post, but once she found out that they’d been away on holiday it was more difficult to forgive. Last year they’d merely given her a few quid to spend on her Christmas holiday which she ended up not even leaving Hogwarts for. Ron tended to remember, but only with a passing happy birthday on their way to classes.

Harry, however, had always made a point to try to make the day special for her knowing what it was like to have his own birthday forgotten. Last year he’d owl-ordered a beautiful set of quills and a planner for her. It had been her only present.

So she had been surprised this year to wake on a clear Saturday morning on the 19th of September to a stack of presents waiting for her at the foot of her bed – placed there in the night by helpful house elves she assumed.

“Wow, Hermione! Finally got some presents this year,” Lavender said waspishly as she passed on her way to the common room. “Or did you order these yourself?”

Heat flooded her cheeks at the insult. It was softened slightly by Parvati Patil’s silent grimace and her mouthing the word “Sorry” as she passed.

“Happy Birthday, Hermione,” she said softly, not waiting for a reply as she closed the door behind her and Lavender.

But the hurt couldn’t last long, not at the sight of the shiny parcels sitting at her feet. There was a small scroll wrapped in a beautiful silver ribbon that she reached for first. When she twisted it in her hands, her heart leapt into her throat at seeing the ornate wax seal bearing the letter M crossed with vines and snakes.

Dearest Hermione,

Happy birthday, darling. We are thinking of you always and cannot wait to see you again.

All our love,

N & L

Though the letter had been brief Hermione couldn’t quash the tears that cast a hazy shadow into the corners of her vision. Tightly furling the scroll once more and sealing it shut with a privacy charm, she put the parchment wrapped in the ribbon to the side to place into her trunk for later.

Turning to the stack in front of her, her eyes caught on two packages wrapped in silvery paper and tied with an identical ribbon to the one on the scroll. She couldn’t believe that the Malfoys had sent her not only a note but two birthday gifts.

Unable to fight it any longer, she tore into the smaller of the two packages. In her hands sat a small silver box with green filigree decorating the corners. Pulling back the lid she squealed with glee. Nestled in wax paper were four glistening honey cakes – her favorites from their dinners at the manor – set in a stasis charm.

The second, larger package was a leather-bound book. When she flipped it over to look at the front cover her loud gasp echoed off the walls of the dormitory.

Hogwarts: A History sat in her lap, the gold embossed writing glimmering in the morning light beginning to spill in from her window. She rifled through the pages until she saw what she was looking for: it was a first edition. Tucked in the pages, as if he had known she would look for it, was a small scrap of parchment.

Happy Birthday, Miss Granger. – L

Hugging the book to her chest she sighed deeply, already thinking of the long thank you letter she would be writing to Narcissa and Mr. Malfoy later this evening.

She opened the rest of her packages quickly after that, knowing breakfast would be over soon. There was another homework planner from Harry, a package of beauty potions from Pansy (mainly hair smoothing potions she realized with a laugh), a container of sugar quills from Theo and Blaise, and a painting from Daphne.

She realized with a start that it was the roses she’d been drawing that afternoon at the manor. Now finished, the red roses were vibrant, green leaves and thorns winding its way through the silver trellis. The beautiful ornate gold frame sparkled as she placed it on her bed side table. When she turned back to the wrapping, she saw a note scribbled on the inside of the paper.

Grateful for what has brought us together. We’re all in there. Red, gold, silver, and green. xo – Daph.

Hermione looked back at the frame. The strong and sturdy silver trellis, that was Draco she knew. The flexible and winding green stems must be Blaise, she figured with his ability to adapt and think quickly in stressful situations – like when he’d caught her robes a few weeks ago when Hermione had wanted to jump to the aid of Draco with Moody. She knew that Pansy was the thorns, protective and sharp and that Daphne was the blooms – beautiful and sweet. Theo was the bright sun, shedding light on everything in his path. As she looked at the painting, she wasn’t sure what she was. Was she the blue sky? Or perhaps just the observer: always destined to be on the outside?

Surely not, she thought with a shake of her head, pushing the blankets off herself to get ready for her day.

…

It had been one of the best birthdays that Hermione could remember. She’d been greeted in the great hall by a rounding chorus of Happy Birthday led by Ginny. Harry and Ron had also presented her with a slab of her favorite Honeydukes chocolate.

She’d spent the rest of the morning reading her new book from Lucius down by the lake, enjoying the soft autumn sun glittering over the water and the breeze that tangled the locks of her hair, promising cooler days ahead.

Hermione had seen her Slytherin friends in the great hall, trying to pour all her gratitude into the smile she gave them. But it wasn’t until she was down by the lake that she realized the one person she hadn’t received a gift from was Draco.

Of course, she didn’t need a gift from Draco, she thought quickly. It had just surprised her to realize it. Scrambling for her bag she quickly opened the two-way journal but there was nothing new there. With a humph, she slid it back into the front pocket. Surely he hadn’t forgotten… not when the rest of them had remembered.

Once her stomach began grumbling, Hermione carefully packed up her text – wrapping it safely in a large handkerchief she’d found at the bottom of her trunk – and made her way slowly back up to the great hall for lunch.

She had just turned the corner into a silent stretch of cool hallway when a hand wrapped around her arm and pulled her bodily into a broom cupboard. She bit back a shriek, quickly pushing her hair from her face to see who had grabbed her.

There was a small sliver of sunlight peeking in from a narrow window above them. It was just enough to see Draco’s mischievous smile.

“Draco!” She beamed, throwing her arms around his neck.

“I needed to see you today,” he whispered into her hair.

She blushed, pulling back from him.

“I thought you’d forgotten…”

His grey eyes widened, blonde eyebrows threatening to get lost in his hair.

“Forgotten my witch’s birthday? Of course not,” he said with a grin.

Hermione’s stomach flipped at the words my witch . Is that what she was to him? They hadn’t ever discussed the feelings growing between them or the kisses that were stolen in the afternoons or evenings at the manor. Now being back at school they had resumed their evening meetings with the rest of the group in the library, but it left them very little time alone. She’d relished the times when he’d held her hand, or swept her hair back from her face to see her better.

Lost in reverie, it took Hermione a few moments to realize Draco was holding a flat silver box between them, tied with a green ribbon.

“Happy birthday, Hermione,” he said sincerely, a blush creeping over his high cheekbones.

“What is it?” Her voice was slightly high pitched as she stared at the box in his pale, long fingers.

“Open it and see.”

With trembling hands, she pulled one end of the ribbon, letting it flutter open around Draco’s palms. Then, seemingly frustrated at the glacial pace Hermione was setting, Draco opened the box for her.

Nestled in emerald satin lay a shimmering silver bracelet. She gasped with surprise, stepping closer to see the olive branches that wove together to make up the circle. Tiny diamonds glittered in the scant light at the ends of each leaf.

“Oh Draco…” she breathed, stroking a fingertip against the cool metal.

She remembered what she had read in the books Lucius had provided for her about the Sacred 28 and their customs. How a boy around fifteen or sixteen may present a witch of his choosing with a token of his affection to mark the beginning of their courtship. Hermione imagined this was the kind of bracelet someone may receive – delicate and beautiful, but not too showy…

Her eyes widened.

“Mother and Father approve…” Draco said softly, not looking at her but at the silver leaves. “If you’ll have me.”

“Oh Draco ,” she said again, this time through a tightness in her throat. “Who wouldn’t want to have you?”

Finally, he looked at her, blotches of pink still high on his cheekbones but his eyes sparkling in the dim light.

“I love you, Hermione Jean Granger. Will you wear it? Will you accept me?” he said hopefully.

The smile on her face was so wide her eyes crinkled and he was partially obscured by the tears brimming in her lashes.

“I love you too, Draco Lucius Malfoy.” Warmth flooded her chest and she felt a shiver of magic in the air around them. “Of course I will. Of course .”

With shaking hands, he pulled the bracelet from the box and snapped it around Hermione’s left wrist.

“The silver is goblin made and imbued with protective enchantments,” Draco began quickly. “Only you or I can remove it once fastened. This stone right here…” He tapped a finger once to the single emerald stone she hadn’t seen before. “Is a port-key. If you ever have a need, press it firmly to your skin and say portus . It will take you to the vineyard we own in the south of France.”

Hermione blinked at him a few times. It was so much more than just a beautiful bracelet or a symbol of their blossoming courtship.

“That way you can always find your way back to me,” he finished in a whisper.

They both stared at the bracelet for a long moment, watching the way it caught the small shaft of light spilling in. Quietly, Draco cast a notice-me-not charm on the bracelet.

“That way this stays just between us, until you’re ready.”

“I love it, Draco,” she replied just as softly.

Leaning forward, Draco pressed a soft kiss to the bracelet and she shivered at the feel of his lips against her wrist. Her thumb brushed softly against his cheek as he pressed another kiss to her palm.

Straightening up, his grey eyes pierced hers. His handsome face was radiant with joy as he stepped closer, cupping her face tenderly in her hands.

“I’m yours,” he whispered, so close his lips brushed hers with the words.

“I’m yours,” she repeated, her hands sliding down his wrists and settling around his shoulders.

His mouth crashed against hers in a flurry of lips and teeth and tongue. She couldn’t bite back a moan as his body pressed hers against the shelves of the broom cupboard – not even noticing the cans of magical mess remover and rags falling around her.

Draco kissed her like a man dying of thirst, desperate and unrestrained. His fingers tangled in her curls as his other hand gripped her hip. Warmth circled low in Hermione’s belly, growing stronger as Draco teased her bottom lip between his teeth. His own groan vibrated against her chest as she canted her hips forward, desperate to eliminate any space between them.

“Hermione, love,” he groaned between kisses.

Her hands gripped his waist, trying to use his jumper to pull herself against him as he tried to step away.

“Not in a broom cupboard,” he said breathlessly against her mouth.

Hermione stopped abruptly, a blush heating her cheeks. They were in a broom cupboard right outside of the Great Hall that, any minute now, plenty of people would pass. But she couldn’t resist the way Draco panted so close to her, his hair disheveled and lips as swollen as hers must have been.

“You first, I’ll see you tonight, yes?” Draco said, swiping a hand through his hair.

“Yes,” she answered, swallowing loudly.

He leaned forward to press his mouth to hers and she couldn’t resist pressing herself once again to him. Relishing the way he groaned.

“Minx,” he whispered against her skin.

She giggled.

Stepping back, he took her hand in his, running his thumb beneath the bracelet.

“See you soon, Hermione.”

She nodded, turning to open the door when his quick voice stopped her.

“I love you,” he said.

“I love you,” she answered and couldn’t resist the opportunity for one last searing kiss.

Perhaps this year would be a good one after all.