Hello everyone! I thank you for giving this story a chance! It's just a short two-chapter story I felt like writing, and it's not perfect, I know, but I've put in quite a bit of effort into this story, so I hope you'll be able to appreciate it despite its flaws.

In any case, I would appreciate it if you give me your comments about this story- what's good, what's not, what you like or how it made you feel... anything you would like to tell me (: please don't be too harsh on me though haha

Enjoy!

-Hermione-

'MALFOY AND GREENGRASS TO TIE THE KNOT'

The headlines are screaming, and with it, I receive the invitation to the most talked-about topic of today. It is wrapped in a cream satin envelope in which lies a thick, expensive piece of parchment addressed specifically to 'Ms Granger'.

The work of Astoria Greengrass. She would insist on inviting the mudblood and staking her claim (or her claws) on him.

To top it off, there is a picture of 'the happy couple' right in the middle of the article printed in colour. Of all the articles to print in colour, they'd chosen the dullest, stupidest, most annoying one.

I'm not bitter about it. Not even a little bit. I'll just take the day off work and do something stupid today to get my mind off things.

I'm about to dump the Stupid Prophet into the bin, but I can't resist scrutinizing the picture again.

His hair is a deep, dark brown as it has been for years now- ever since he started dating her. She wanted it so to suit her own dark brown curls. She is smiling beautifully with much grace, and I think I'm the only one who can see the under-lying grin of victory. She has a hand wrapped around him and another 'shyly' waving at the cameras, and is peeking from under her lashes.

I think she is anything but shy.

I turn my attention to him, however, and I feel some of the tension in me go away. I haven't seen him in... years, or so he thinks. He still has that cheeky glint in his silver eyes and his hair is still combed back like how his mother had done it for him during Hogwart- times. He is smiling, but I can't see that single dimple on the left side of his cheek. Did it disappear?

I stop myself just as I am about to lean in and further scrutinize his face.

No. We aren't meant to be. We were never meant to be. He has chosen; it's over. She has won. Not that I've ever been fighting, to start with. I wonder why she hates me.

Resolutely, I dump the newspaper into the bin and stalk out of the office.

It is seven days to their wedding, and I have not replied. It doesn't seem to matter to the stupid- or should I say- 'the happy couple'. They haven't even owled me to confirm my attendance. Has he really forgotten me? Then again, who am I to desire even a little of his attention, after what I've done?

Harry and Ron are going. Malfoy is on good terms with the two of them what with him having to work closely with aurors for court proceedings. We are all so busy this time of the year we only meet on Saturdays. Most Saturdays, anyway.

"I feel so lonely." I whisper to nobody in particular, looking up at the vast, blue sky from the park bench. Will anyone ever sit on this bench and watch they sky with me?

Will He?

Be strong, Hermione. Let's go get a dress for yourself.

-Draco-

"Now, Draco. Remember not to be drunk. You have to be in top shape tomorrow, and I don't want to have the Greengrasses criticizing us for anything."

I roll my eyes.

"Yes, Father. Can I go now?"

"Oh, our son is getting married tomorrow and he's still asking for permission to go out!" My mother cries, letting out a touched sob and crying into my father's shoulder. She never fails to impress me with her ability to not be able to pick up on any form of sarcasm. And I mean any.

My father pats her shoulder gently and says a 'there there' somewhat comfortingly before shooting me an accusatory look for starting the waterworks- my que to get out of here.

Blaise meets me at the door.

"Took you long enough." He says as I walk towards him.

"Try having parents like mine and you'll understand."

"Try not having parents at all." He says sharply.

And with that, he apparates with me in tow.

We arrive at a club reserved specially for us men. My last night of freedom. Ah, sweet freedom.

"You don't want to give it up, huh?" Blaise says in my ear, reading my thoughts exactly.

"I don't know…" I say unsurely, careful to keep it all very vague. "I'm only twenty-five."

"Or is it the girl you're marrying that has you thinking twice?"

I glare at him. He always knows which buttons to press.

"I love Astoria! Now don't make me- HEY GUYS!"

The men swarm around me- all Slytherins, except for Potter and Weasel. Most of us like their company, and those who don't put up with it because they are famous and us Slytherins tend to be a little discriminated against sometimes. I don't think I'll ever truly like the Weasel, though. Not after everything that's happened.

We sit around and begin warming up to the night with a round of drinks- butterbeer for me, considering the warning my father has given me about the Greengrasses. A toe out of line and we'd have to be paying them a load of gold as compensation. Astoria, on the other hand, is never out of line. She has been raised as a pureblood and is perfect in every way possible. Yes, that's why I love her. Take that, Blaise.

I look up to see if Blaise has picked up on my thoughts with his uncanny sensing abilities, but he is staring out of a small window near the door.

Curious, I follow his line of sight and amongst the laughter of my friends, I see her just as she turns this way, and by the most random of chances, our eyes meet.

Hermione…

She snaps out of it and looks to her side as if someone is calling for her. Before she can turn back, I duck, hiding myself from her gaze- a gaze that holds much power over me. But how? It's been years! How could I…

Strange flashbacks play across my mind, but they make no sense, so I shove them aside, think of my very perfect, pure-blooded fiancée, and force myself to enjoy the night. My last night of freedom. Why do I, in the very depths of my heart, have this gnawing, uncomfortable feeling?

No, I will not think of Hermione. Not after the hurt she'd put me through.

"I love Astoria!" I shouted suddenly, taking more gulps of butterbeer.

Merlin, I'll need firewhiskey at this rate.

The room is in shocked silence but a moment later, everyone breaks into cheers- even Blaise, although I can tell he's faking it.