A/N: Written for Cheeky Slytherin Lass's Unusual Friendship Challenge on HPFC. I won't be updating for a week now, so I decided to finish this off before I leave :') Yes, it has Drarry in. I couldn't resist.

{ The ring on your finger has made you forget me. }

They were getting married. They were actually getting married. Draco couldn't believe it. It was outrageous. How Potter couldn't see that he was the right guy for him was preposterous. He actually believed that the Weasley girl could satisfy him? Draco was fuming.

Draco looked down at the fancy wedding invitation in his hands and wanted to scream and cry. But he didn't, but Malfoys were trained from birth in the art of bottling up their feelings and becoming emotionless robots. First came the anger, and then came the disbelief. He'd truly been invited to the wedding? By his arch-enemy, no less? Draco questioned his sanity.

Worst of all, the wedding was the next day. He had nothing on. He had no excuse for not going.

Draco scrunched up the invitation and threw it onto the floor beside his bed, before taking off his shoes, and clothes. With raging thoughts still ricocheting off of the walls of his mind, he got into bed, glanced once more at the crumpled invitation abandoned on the floor, and closed his eyes.

The next day, he found himself dressed in sleek black dress robes, his hair combed into a decent style and the creased invitation tucked into his pocket. He handed the invitation to Potter, mumbled, "Sorry it's crumpled," and stormed into the gardens where the wedding was taking place.

The whole place was covered with flowers and it looked overwhelmingly bright. The scent of the flowers was intoxicating, no doubt enhanced by magic, and it almost burnt his nostrils with the strength. Nobody else on the scene seemed to be bothered – maybe it had just been a very long time since Draco had smelt something that pleasant, if you don't count the hidden stash of sweets he kept hidden in a dark, menacing, giant locked chest back at the Manor. He didn't open it very often anymore. He had no need for sweets.

Draco sat down on the bench and waited for the ceremony to begin.

Harry and Ginny, the beautiful, gloriously euphoric newlyweds, were surrounded by hugs of congratulations. The joyful conversations thrummed in the air. People were called over, smiles exchanged. But nobody called Draco. That hurt Draco a little, but why would they? He didn't even understand why he had been invited to the ghastly wedding in the first place. But no matter. He was used to being forgotten.

The bench beside him creaked and Draco looked over, startled. Then, his alarmed gaze sank into a venomous glower. A Weasley.

"Draco, right?"

Draco continued glaring. "Yes," he snapped.

The Weasley smiled ruefully. "I'm sorry about this. I didn't want to come either." He bent close and whispered. "I have feelings for him too."

"F-for Harry? And what do you mean, 'too'?" Draco demanded.

"Oh, come on, Malfoy. Everyone except Harry can see it. And yeah, I do like him. I might even be in love with him. But I have Fleur now. I love her. I even have Victoire, my daughter. Just goes to show that you can move on from something like this." Weasley turned away from Draco and smiled at the couple, who were blissfully oblivious to the conversation and to Draco entirely.

Draco raised an eyebrow, and he almost smiled. Almost. "You're not all bad, for a Weasley."

Bill chuckled. "My name's Bill. Bill Weasley."

"Draco Malfoy," Draco replied.

Bill held out a hand, and after glaring at it for a few moments, Draco hesitantly reached out and shook it.

"I'd rather like for you to visit me at some point. It'd be good for both of us to get to know each other a bit more, maybe even become friends," said Bill. "Visit us at Shell Cottage sometime."

Draco allowed him a small smile. "I'd like that."

Harry and Ginny chattered on, and Draco still felt a little bit hurt, for he couldn't just drop his feelings for Harry in an instant, and it seemed to him that even after years of being happily married, even a father, that Bill still loved Harry – but his new-found friendship was a start for letting those feelings so.

The engagement ring around his finger, made to be a manlier version of Astoria's, didn't seem so tight anymore.

{ The ring on my finger has long been forgotten. }