******

Draco Malfoy sat at his desk, his head in his heads. He groaned silently. Why did she look so pretty, for Merlin's sake why? The door to his office opened and a slim figure with black hair strolled in.

"Still feeling miserable? Get your head out of your ass, we've got a social function to attend in less than," Blaise glanced at the clock, "an hour."

"Stuff it Zabini," Draco said. He dreaded this day forever. Well, technically not forever, but ever since that bloody owl dropped the invitation in his morning porridge, disturbing his carefully selected morning routine. When he opened the bloody letter, decorated by bloody flowers (must be Weasley's work, Potter was probably dying of mortification when he saw the invitations. If he ever saw them at all. That thought made Draco feel a little better) he nearly fell out of his chair. Bloody hell.

"Come on man, pull yourself together. So what she's there. Just ignore her."

Draco sighed. Damn the Potters. Damn the Weasley's. Damn Granger.

"Did you ever look at her? She is rather hard to ignore!"

"Of course I've looked at her. And I saw a hot piece of ass who knows all," Zabini smirked, "Merlin, you've got it bad."

Draco looked up and glared at his friend.

"Fuck you. This is torture!" He stood up and threw his hands in the air for emphasis. "I'm going mad here! She's everywhere I look! And now I have to go to Potters bloody wedding and see her, probably with some kind of handsome bloke who's only interested in getting into the knickers of the only girl in the Golden Trio!"

"You mean, you have to look at someone doing the same thing you did, over a year ago?" Zabini raised on eyebrow. Draco hated it when people did that. Damn it, he should have gotten a monopoly on it- except Snape would probably owe it already, since he was the master of sarcastic-eyebrow-raising.

Draco glowered at Blaise. He was making fun of him, again. He had started doing it when he learnt from their little encounter.

"Fine, let's get this over with then," he snarled as he picked up his coat and made it for the apparition point.

"Hold it. You're not going to Potters wedding dressed in that," he sniffed disdainfully, "Go home and get dressed properly. I'll see you at Hogwarts." Blaise stepped towards the fireplace and flooed away.

Draco grunted. This day couldn't get any worse.

*****

How he wished he hadn't said that (or thought it for that matter). Every time he told himself a day couldn't get any worse, the day got worse. On his way to the apparition point he bumped into a two old schoolmates.

"Going to Potters wedding Malfoy?" sneered Crabbe. Goyle wore an identical sneer.

"Hello to you Vincent," Draco said drily. His old chums have had a grudge against him ever since he was pardoned for the sins he committed during the war, while they spend time in Azkaban. Even though it wasn't much, six months max, it was enough to make them furious at him for escaping punishment. "Gregory," he nodded at the other man. They both grew in size, vertically as well as horizontally.

"Becoming friends with the Golden Trio? I always knew you got off on at least one of them, especially the Granger girl. Well can't really blame you, can we. She grew a nice rack. Or maybe Weasley, I heard he's still single" Goyle said. "Who would have thought you could sink so low Malfoy, associating with that Mudblood filth," and in the blink of an eye they strolled passed him, but not before bumping into his damaged shoulder.

Damn them, Draco thought as he rubbed his sore shoulder. Though he couldn't really blame them. Azkaban was no picnic.

Of course Crabbe and Goyle weren't the only ones who disliked him in the auror office (what were they doing there anyway? Probably parole control), or outside it for that matter. On his way through the auror department he was on the receiving end of quite a few glares and whispers.

Apparently the Wizarding World was not very forgiving when it came to war crimes. People disliked him, disliked him intensely. The one people he talked with after the war were either after his money or after well, he could say his bright and shiny disposition but that would be a lie, interviews about the war. Outside from Zabini and Nott of course, they stuck by him when he was left with nothing but shame and a parole bracelet around his ankle.

It was a wonder the aurors accepted his application. Becoming an auror had been a tiring experience for him. Weasley and Potter were way above him in level and bullied him mercilessly about it. It had been hell, especially when Weasley became his superior for his internship. Bloody wanker, he thought as he apparated home.

His little flat just outside Diagon Alley was a comfortable one, though not very large. Homey was the right word to describe it. He moved out of the Manor right after the way. Couldn't stand the memories the house held for him and his parents. Luckily his parents also escaped punishment, even though society in itself were punishment enough for them. It didn't matter his mother saved the Bloody-Boy-Who-Just-Wouldn't-Die,-Then-Died-Only-To-Return-30-Minutes-Later. They were Malfoys, and branded for life. He rubbed his left wrist as he stalked straight into the bedroom to get his formal dressrobes.

After dressing he took a moment in front of the bathroom mirror. Frowning at himself he debated whether to slick his hair back or leave it be. Leave it be, the voice in his head said, you left it like this when she shagged you. Maybe she'll do it again? Draco shook his head, then apparated to Hogsmeade.

*****
He landed steadily on his feet, when he heard the chatter around him. About two dozen of people were making their way towards Hogwarts, all dressed fancily and chattering away happily.

"Oh those two were made for each other really! They are such an adorable couple!" he heard some old woman gush.

"Yes most definitely!" another brainless chit pledged.

Draco scoffed, those two probably never met the marrying couple aside from a squeal in the crowd when Potter walked by. He quickly made his way to Hogwarts, desperate enough to get it all over with.

*****

"Finally decided to show up?" Blaise said as he joined Draco on the uncomfortable benches. They were seated at the grooms side, somewhere far in the back. This were probably the benches for people who they didn't actually want at their wedding, but felt inclined to invite anyway.

The Great Hall was decorated with a lot of white flowers. Ugh, Draco hated white. And everything that wasn't white was a light shade of pink.

"Ugh, I wish I wasn't invited," Draco moaned. The benches around him started to fill up slowly, the wedding was due to start any minute now. Potter stood at the altar, Weasley next to him, fidgeting with his collar.

"Bloody bloke's a mess," Blaise whispered with a snicker. "And to think that he saved the Wizarding World. He looks scared enough to run for it."

Draco agreed. Potters hair was a mess, no wonder there, and his eyes darted around the room nervously. More and more people came in and seated themselves. The guy looked like he was about to break down any minute now. Weasley was obviously trying to shush him, but didn't do a very good job at it, because Potters eyes looked as they were about to bulge from his head.

After a good fifteen minutes the Great Hall was nearly full. The Weasley Matron sat in the front row on the bride's side, accompanied by those twins, the dragon-chaser and the one with the weird earring. Next to him sat the Veela with a kid upon her lap, who was currently making odd noises Draco couldn't hear because of all the noise.

On the groom's side sat all remaining members of the Order. Draco recognized the werewolf with his kid. His wife died in the war, right after their child was born, Draco remembered it well. His mother had been a blubbering mess afterwards. That was when his aunt and mother carefully build up their relationship again. Pity it took the death of a daughter to get them together again, but apparently it worked out.

Next to them were two people who looked very out of place. Draco noticed they wore muggle clothing. The woman was smiling and happily chatting with Lupin. Then he noticed the hair: bushy and brown.

Oh my Lord.

Those two people couldn't be- no they couldn't be Granger's parents…Or could they? Draco's throat suddenly felt very dry. Where was she anyway? Wasn't she supposed to sit up front, dabbling her eyes with a tissue?

Then the music started and Draco tore his eyes from the front row. It didn't even take two seconds before the entire Great Hall had gone silent. All eyes were glued to the doors in the back. Potter looked like he was about to faint.

Then the Lovegood girl walked through in a wide, white (white again, ugh were all those people virgins here?) dress and a basket on her arm. She grabbed a few flowers and tossed them in the public. The crowd remained silent.

And then Draco's heart skipped a beat. Behind Lovegood was Granger, wearing a white, modest gown, showing just a hint of cleavage, pushing her ample breasts upward. She was radiant, a beautiful smile lit her face.

Somewhere far away, Draco heard camera's going off and flashes invaded his vision. But nothing kept him from gazing at the beautiful creature that walked down the aisle.

Gorgeous.

Her brown, bushy hair was actually tamed for once. He happened to know that she never did anything with her hair but brush and wash it. She once told him it was a waste of time, since her hair had a will of its own. But Merlin, did she look good or what?

He heard Blaise snicker. Draco ignored him.

"I heard such dreadful stories about her. She has no decency at all!" whispered someone behind them, "Sleeping around with all those wizards, gosh, doesn't she know that's not how it's done in 'our' world. "

Draco felt a surge of anger at their words. What did those two cunts know?

"I heard a rumor at work you know. Nobody's dared to say it out loud, but it seems that she had a fling with the groom once! Can you believe that, Harry Potter!" the other whispered. Apparently not quiet enough because a few heads turned in her direction.

Draco felt his face flush. Come one man, you're a Malfoy and you do not blush.

Nor do Malfoy's shag mudbloods, another voice in his head said. He blocked them out and glanced at Hermione. Especially not mudbloods who spread their legs for anything with a dick.

And then the Weaslette walked into view and everyone forgot about Hermione. Ooh's and Aah's echoed through the Great Hall. Draco had to admit; the girl looked stunning. But his attention was soon diverted to Granger again. She stood next to the Weasel, smiling, and a stray tear running down her cheek. Potter's jaw looked a bit unhinged as he gaped like a fish. Could those two have had an affair? Draco didn't think so. The way Potter looked at his soon-to-be-wife was way to lovey-dovey. No, Draco concluded, Potter wouldn't see another woman in that light, even if she bit him in the arse.

Potter reached for the Weaslette's hand and together they stood in front of the altar.

"We have come together…" the wizard in front of them said. But Draco paid him no mind. Granger was all there was to him.

*****