Serendipity

Hermione Granger offers her hand. Messy and lovely, and so close he can touch the tips of her fingers without even taking a step forward. The light from the window falls on top of her hair, her dark mess of hair almost seems like a halo. These are the small, inconspicuous, devastating moments that make him wonder if god truly exists. It must be a sign from above, to make a moment so breathtakingly perfect.

“Draco,” she says. “Come back to bed.”