Have you ever fallen in love, but you couldn't do anything about it? That's how I feel right now as I lie here in the snow. My fiery red hair is an amazing contrast to the pale white sheet of ice that was turning my skin blue. Why am I being a masochist right now? It is because my heart is beyond repair as the man I love chose a witch that was suppose to be my friend. Everyone prefers the brightest witch of our age to the witch that was known for her messy hexes and what she does in between the sheets.

The hideous pink ruffled dress was now soaked as tears started to run down my freckled cheeks. I fell in love with him my sixth year. He offered me solace when no one else was there. I stood on his doorstep the day after the war as I told him how my heart thrived to be with him and him alone. He looked at me with a sad smile informing me that his heart belonged to another witch, a witch that preferred books to wizards' wands. That was the day my heart stopped beating. That is the reason why I can withstand this pain as hypothermia was taking over.

Why am I still here? That is the thought that went through my mind. I should be doing something productive at the reception like drinking to the expense to my liver. Drinking myself to a stupor would cause me even more heartbreak. Speak now or forever hold your peace. I had to fight my instinct from speaking out right then and there. Can't you see that you belong with me? I can make you happy, and you can make me happy. Why do we have to live this lie? Don't love her. Love me.

I caught his stare as he sent me a silent warning that made my stomach turn. That was the reassurance that broke my heart even more. Instead of feeling pain, my heart went numb and my plus one could sense that from across the room. A fake smile was plastered on my face as I decided to not speak at that moment. That meant that I had to forever hold my peace. If I drank myself into a stupor, then all my secrets would have come out in a very distasteful way.

About five feet away from me, I hear a twig snap as someone made their way to me. "Cara," Blaise said looking down at me, "You're a damn mess." I didn't say a word because I couldn't breathe. Why didn't the former Slytherin just leave me alone to die? That would be less painful than to live with the fact that the love of my life chose Hermione Fucking Granger. Can't Blaise see that I couldn't feel a thing? He bent down and scooped me up in his muscular arms, "Come on, Cara, let's go home."

Home is not with you. Home is where the heart is and my heart belongs to a married man that I cannot have. Of course this was said in thought. Blaise and I have an understanding. We are there for one another to say what we want to say to those we actually love. That was the benefit of having a shag buddy. It was just sex and solace and no relationship. This is my life considering that the one my heartbeats for stomped on it with reject. Merlin, I should have stayed with Harry.

I melted in the arms of Blaise Zabini as he carried me back to his flat. The fire warmed me up as he made sure that I wasn't going to drop dead on his watch. That night, we made love as if it was the first time. He found a way for me to scream his (Blaise) name over and over in sweet ecstasy. That is what I love about the Italian Stallion. He could make me forget about the one who caused me so much heartache. I know his heart beats for another witch, but I don't care enough to actually have a real conversation with him. We have an unspoken deal that I am not about to break. It was just sex and solace not a relationship. Not even friendship.

That night as Blaise slept next to me I remembered the wedding. I remembered the dark haired wizards saying his vows nervously looking into Hermione's eyes. I can vividly see him slide her wedding band onto her left hand. I lift my left hand up envisioning that ring on my dainty finger. That thought brought a smile to my face. Fantasies kept me alive while reality was eating at me. My mind wandered to the couple's wedding night. I suppose it would have been like the last few hours I spent with Blaise. Breathtaking. Every part of me wishes that I could scream someone else's name while the man I love pleasured me.

During the reception, I watched as they shared their first dance. The DJ announced now presenting for the first time, Mr. and Mrs. Neville Longbottom. Hermione Longbottom. That was her name now. She stole the last name that I wanted to be my own. My heart blackened with hate as I stared at the man beside me. I needed him and he needed me. I will always be thankful for him. We are just two lost souls who wanted someone else. That was the thing about second choices- they can't disappoint you.

Neville was happier with someone else, and Hermione wanted him as well. Even if I deny them that, they would have still gotten married. Years from now, they would have children that should be mine. Yes, I am that selfish. How selfish of me to want Neville to screw things up with Hermione. Just one mistake can cause a divorce. All he had to do whisper my name after a chaste kiss. That will make her not want him anymore. No, I can never be Ginevra Longbottom. The title, Mrs. Longbottom, only belonged to Hermione.

My heart is broken beyond prepared. I can't feel it beat anymore. I am not even living anymore. Ginevra Molly Weasley was only surviving at this point. She needed the man beside her to make her even number to the pain. I brought my hand to his face as gently as possible. My efforts were a success because he did not stir from his slumber, "I love you." This was the three word whisperings that escaped my lips. "I love you too," Blaise whispered back into the night.