AN: I wrote this some months ago on Tumblr because Ash-Castle posted something about Made of Honour and then my mind ran with this plunnie. Please note this is story is from Pansy's POV and much as you may like Dramione, that pairing is NOT the endgame.

Disclaimer: All characters belong to JK Rowling. The plot is based off the movie Made of Honour, but with a twist... Enjoy!

Special thanks to Chiseplushie who beta'd this whole story. Any remaining mistakes my own.

1. The Ring

"What do you think?"

Pansy stared at the ring in Draco's hand and swallowed around the lump that had suddenly, painfully, lodged itself in her throat. A sapphire surrounded by diamonds in a platinum setting glinted in the sunlight and for one brief, interminable moment, she could pretend that it was for her.

Draco closed his fingers over the ring again and bit his lip. "Do you think she'll like it?"

Pansy looked up and pasted a smile on her face that once he would immediately have recognised as fake. That she could get away with it now just made it even clearer that their relationship had changed, and it hurt.

"She'll love it. So you're really going through with it, then? You're really going to pop the question?" She flushed at the sudden desperation in her voice.

Draco's shoulders sagged in relief as soon as she had voiced her approval and he didn't notice anything amiss. Again.

"Yeah. We're going to France for the weekend and I was planning to ask her then. It's where we first met."

Pansy's smile became a little wider and a little less genuine. "I remember. Such a romantic beginning."

The words weighed heavily on her tongue and she had to force herself to say them without too much of the cutting sarcasm that usually coloured all her words and without too much of the regret that pierced her body like a hot iron rod every time she thought of it.

She knew she should have followed him to France when he moved there after the War. She knew she shouldn't have let him go alone. But she had still been tied up in her parents' trials and by the time she was finally free of those shackles, years had passed, and Draco had fallen for Hermione Granger in the City of Love. Of all the clichés in the world. It made her sick to her stomach to think of how they ran into each other in Paris, started talking, and eventually ended up together, long before she ever had the opportunity to make a move herself on the man she had loved since childhood. She'd been supportive, of course, convinced that the know-it-all Gryffindor would eventually get on his nerves and they'd break up. She'd been prepared since day one to be his shoulder to cry on whenever that happened. But now they were getting married and she was on the verge of losing him forever.

"She'll say yes, won't she?"

There was the insecure Draco again, the vulnerable man only she had ever seen when they were growing up. The flicker of fear and self-doubt softened her battered heart - she always turned into a puddle of mush when he was like that - and she drew him in for a hug.

"Of course she'll say yes. She'd be a fool not to. And Hermione Granger is many things…" She stepped back again and grinned, her mind listing all the insults she knew she could never say in front of him. "But she is no fool. She'll be thrilled and she'll say yes, and you'll be married before you know it."

She turned around and closed her eyes to fight of the tears that threatened to spill. It took her only a moment to compose herself enough to turn back to her best friend, the love of her life, and smile another artificial smile that didn't reach her eyes.

"I have to go now, Draco. Good luck. Not that you'll need it."

Pansy turned on her heel and Apparated to the sanctuary of her bedroom, where she could finally give in to the tears and pain of dashed hopes and broken dreams.

Several bottles of Firewhiskey later, Pansy stumbled into her bathroom, clutching the edge of the wash basin to keep upright. Her other arm hugged a bottle of Goblin Brandy - the only bottle left in her liquor cabinet, a horrid draught usually reserved for unpleasant company - and she glared at her reflection in the mirror.

"Dis… Dis inn't over yet, Herminny.. Hermy… Granger. I'mma get'm back. Draco'sh mine." She tossed her head back with determination and toppled over onto the plush bathroom mat. Some brandy sloshed from the bottle onto her dress but she didn't even notice. The last thing she thought before she passed out was that she really ought to have stuck to Firewhiskey.