Welcome, please enjoy the story, I own nothing but the plot. And, before you read, in any letters that have multiple headings or endings, everything but the final adress (Granger, I Love You, ect.)

Draco Malfoy stared down at the piece of paper in his hand. You are cordially invited to the wedding of Miss Hermione Granger and Mr. Ronald Weasley. The wedding will take place at three o'clock on the twenty-third of September in Nonsuch Park, London. For a moment, a brief moment, he considered going.

He would sit in the back row of course, away from everyone else. Mrs. Weasley and Mrs. Granger would sit in the front row, crying into lace handkerchiefs while their husbands patted their backs. Weasley would stand at the head of the aisle with a look of pure joy on his face. The bride would enter, she would be radiant in a white gown, her hair put up; she would look up at Weasley with nothing but love. Of course, this was the point that Draco would excuse himself and escape to the bathroom. He would splash water onto his face, and stare into the mirror at his blotched and petrified reflection. Later, at the reception, he would lie to the bride and groom, tell them that he was happy for them, he would never pull her to the side and tell her the five words that had been killing him for years, I love you Hermione Granger. Of course, by that time, she would be Hermione Weasley.

Reality flashed back into view. He couldn't go; he could not watch her get married to someone who would never deserve her. In the back ground Draco heard his mother open a door; he crumpled the invitation and lit it on fire. His mother need never know that he had been invited to the wedding. She was always at his throat trying to get him to patch things up with the wizarding world's golden trio, but that meant being around her and Weasley. That would mean seeing him make her laugh, seeing him kiss her, and knowing that he, Draco Malfoy, had found the perfect woman that he could never have.

He went to the study that he had inherited from his father and sat at the desk, ready to begin a letter. The quill hovered over the parchment, waiting to put words to the paper, words that would politely explain why he was unable to attend the wedding. Such words would not come; all he was able to think of were words that would tell in a million different ways how much he loved her, how much he wished she'd pick him instead of Weasley. He started writing.

Dear Hermione,

Dear Granger,

Granger,

I want so badly to say congratulations, but I cannot. All I can think of saying is that it should be me up there with you on September twenty-third. Hate me if you want to, but I had to tell you. I will not come to your wedding and watch Weasley marry you, my apologies if you have purchased anything for me. I hate to think that I have inconvenienced you in any way.

Yours Truly,

Sincerely,

I love you,

Draco Malfoy

Draco summoned his owl and posted the letter. "Draco," His mother had entered the study unexpectedly. "What are you doing in here Draco?"

"I was just writing to a friend, Mother." Draco tucked the letter he'd never send into his pocket. "It was nothing of consequence. Did you want something?"

"Yes, I just received an invitation from Miss Granger and Mr. Weasley to attend their wedding; it said that you were welcome as well. I can't go, of course, but you will."

"Moth-" Draco began, but his mother cut him off.

"You will go. We must rebuild the family name, and making high up friends is the fastest way to do so." She had steel in her voice that left Draco unable to say no.

"Of course Mother, I'll go." He felt betrayed, she was supposed to know who he loved, she shouldn't willingly put her son in the worst pain he could imagine feeling, she was his mother. But she was also Narcissa Malfoy, a woman who would go to any lengths to regain the fame and money that she had lost. Desperation made people do things that they ordinarily would not, it brought out the best in some and the worst in others; Draco's mother was the latter of those two.

"That's my good boy." Narcissa left, and Draco threw his letter to Hermione in the fire and wrote a polite but cold acceptance of the invitation.

Narcissa fussed over his clothes the day of Hermione's wedding, she hand wrapped the gifts (a beautifully bound first edition of Hogwarts: A History, and diamond cuff links) in silver paper. "Be sure to give them my warmest wishes, tell them that I wish I could attend, but that I was called away on urgent business abroad."

"Yes Mother." It was the same honeyed story his mother had first concocted when she had heard of the wedding. She herself would never attend the wedding, far too much bad blood between the older generation of wizards and her for her to show her face in public any more.

Draco turned on his heel and apparated to Nonsuch Park, London. It was a beautiful sunny September day, warm and slightly breezy. A part of the park, right in the middle, had been roped off for the wedding, and M.O.M. guards were stationed at the entrance, this was to be an invitation only wedding. Draco presented his invitation to the man guarding the entrance and entered the roped off area of the park. Here he was one of few Slytherins present, and the others were among those who had also turned tails during the final battle.

"Malfoy." A voice familiar from school assailed him.

"Potter." Draco turned to look at the man who had saved his life two years ago. The Weasley girl called Ginny stood next to him, her dress bulging in the front and a wedding band on her left hand. "Mrs. Potter."

Ginny stepped gracefully on Potter's foot. "How's your mother Draco?"

"She's well, thank you. She wanted to be here, but she had to go abroad. When are you due? If it's not too personal, that is." Draco gestured to Ginny.

"Mid to late November." Potter beamed down at his wife.

"Congratulations." Draco nodded and walked on. The area was scattered with red headed Weasleys, and Draco felt very out of place. Eventually he found someone he's known at school and struck up a conversation. At two forty-five, Draco found a seat near the aisle, and was soon hemmed in on all sides by strangers. It was at that precise moment, the absurdity of his situation struck him, and he had to fight not to laugh. Here he was at a wedding of two of the sacred three not because he was their friend, but to make his family look good. He was at the wedding of the girl he loved simply because his mother had told him to come.

Three o'clock came, and music struck up. Draco stood and looked to where Hermione was walking down the aisle. She was magnificent, more beautiful than Helen, more beautiful than Aphrodite herself. If Draco had ever been more tempted to tell her that he loved her, he could not recall it. The look on Weasley's face was more joyful than Draco could have ever imagined, and Hermione's face mirrored his. That was the final blow to Draco, to see how happy she was with that man, to see the woman he loved in love with someone so beneath her.

"I do." Hermione said, sealing Draco's fate. Weasley leaned down to kiss Hermione, who was now Hermione Weasley. Any hope Draco had kept that Hermione might leave Weasley and declare her love for him, Draco Malfoy, died. Draco gulped and blinked back tears.

The reception was beautiful, simple, but beautiful. Sun shone down on the group, and flowers perfumed the air with their sweet scent. Everyone was having a grand time, all except for Draco. It might as well have been raining and storming for all he cared. Perhaps if the weather had been that bad, the wedding might have been postponed, and the woman he loved might still exist. As it was, all Draco could do was to wait for a chance to dance with the bride, not that he could see that happening for a time. Hermione was whirled from person to person, her expression a cloud of bliss.

"Excuse me," Draco interrupted Victor Krum's dance with Hermione near its end. "Would you like to dance?" he asked Hermione.

She looked hesitant for a moment, and then said, "Well, yes, I suppose so." Draco took her into his arms as he dreamt about for years, and began to dance. She was an excellent dancer, exceptionally graceful. As Draco watched her spin, he lost himself to a fantasy about a day that would never come; the day Hermione would become Hermione Malfoy. His mother would look on with anger that he was marrying a Mudblood, but pleasure that said Mudblood was of the golden trio. He would be unable to keep his eyes off his young wife; Potter and Weasley would glare at him and try to convince Hermione that she was making the wrong choice. Years later, he would look on as she brought their child into the world, a little girl who looked just like Hermione, they would name her Gemini. Eventually, he and Hermione would grow old and die together. It was the perfect life that he would never lead.

"Are you all right Draco?" Hermione asked, looking concerned. "You look like you're in pain."

She had said his name. For the first time in his life, Hermione Granger (Weasley) had said his first name. The sound emboldened him to tell her what he should have told her from the first moment he knew that he loved her. He took her hand and led her into a secluded corner of the reception.

"No, I'm not all right. Today is the worst day of my life because today is the day I watched you get married Hermione. I have never been in such agonizing pain, the Cruciatus curse is nothing compared to this, I'd take it and be glad. But this won't go away, because I love you Hermione, and you're not mine and you never will be."

Her expression was stunned. Her warm brown eyes searched his face for any trace of a lie, but he had never been more truthful. "Draco . . ." she whispered. There was something in her voice, something between sadness and longing.

He leaned down and kissed Hermione, fully knowing that she was not his wife and could never be more than a dream. One kiss to last a lifetime, that was all he asked. After a shocked moment, she kissed him back, and it was the best thirty seconds of Draco's life. When he pulled away, he kissed her forehead, her nose, and her lips again. "I had to. Hate me if you want, but I couldn't go my whole life without that."

"'Mione!" Weasley's voice pierced the silence.

"I should go," Hermione whispered.

"Yes, you should go." Draco agreed, but his arms stayed locked around her waist. Hermione pried her way free, kissed his cheek, and joined her husband.

Three months passed for Draco Malfoy, three months in which he did everything just as he should. He went to work, he ate, he slept, and he even went on dates. That is, until it arrived. The letter that tore his heart into even smaller pieces, if that was even possible. It was delivered by a small owl that was overexcited. Of course it was from her.

Dear Draco,

Words are usually natural to me, you know that, but now when I most need them, they have abandoned me. What do you say to someone you love, but can't have? Maybe I'll tell you about the house I live in, how charming it is, or I could tell you about how badly Ron snores, or how adorable Harry's son James is. I could tell you so many things about my life, I could tell you Ron wants a little girl, and that Mum and Dad want me to agree with him. None of that matters to you of course, you must hate me by now after all of the pain I've caused you. I just had to tell you that I'm sorry, I never meant to hurt you, and that I love you too. I want the best for you Draco, I really do, I want you to be happy, you deserve it.

Love From,

Hermione

Thank you for reading, please review, this was my first Dramione fic.