When I graduated from Hogwarts and returned home, all anyone could talk about was Vic's wedding. All I heard 24/7 was "blah, blah, blah, flowers" and "yada, yada, yada, cake." I couldn't wait for Dylan to arrive to distract me from all this ridiculous wedding planning. Of course, if he didn't come soon, I would be forced to Avada myself. There was no way I could try on another bridesmaid dress and keep my sanity. It would be utterly impossible.

When I finally spotted him standing on the beach a week after I'd returned home, I immediately felt a massive swarm of butterflies zooming around in my stomach. I'd missed him more than I thought possible, but seeming reminded me of last summer and just how close we'd gotten to shagging. Now that he was back, would we finish what we started? Was this summer I would lose my virginity.

"Hell yeah, it is!" shouted an imaginary Timothy Nott in my head.

I took a deep breath and started running in his direction. "Dylan!" I shouted.

He turned around right before I crashed into him. His arms immediately wrapped around my waist and we stumbled back a couple feet before he was able to catch his balance.

We stood there for a moment, not saying anything. I felt his hands pressed against the skin of the back, in the spot between the bottom of my tank top and the top of my jean shorts. Merlin, I'd missed how it felt when he touched me. My entire body tingled as one of his hands dipped under the waistband of my shorts.

But then, out of nowhere, he dropped his arms and quickly took a step back. "Shit," I heard him mumble under his breath.

I stared at him. Where the hell did he think he was going? He hadn't even kissed me yet.

He ran his hands through his hair and looked down at the ground, as if avoiding making eye contact with me.

"Dylan—" I began.

"Dom," he said, cutting me off. "We need to talk."

I froze. There was something about the tone of his voice that told me that this wasn't going to be a pleasant conversation.

"About what?" I asked uncertainly.

"I…I have a girlfriend," he muttered.

For a second my heart stopped. "What?"

"I didn't mean for it to happen," he said.

"Then why did it?" I asked, not sure how my mouth was even forming words.

"I just…it's hard, you know, being so far away from you for most of the year. And you don't have a phone or a computer, so I never even get to hear your voice or see your face."

"I wrote to you," I mumbled, willing myself not to cry.

"Yeah, well, sometimes that's not enough."

"I'm a witch!" I snapped. "What do you expect?"

He didn't say anything; he just kept staring at the ground.

"Look at me!" I snarled.

He lifted his head, his brown eyes immediately finding mine. He stared at me, with that intense gaze I knew all too well.

"Dom…" he said.

I dug my nails into the palm of my hand. Don't cry. Don't cry. Don't cry. But it was getting harder and harder not to. Because he said my name the same way he always had. The same way he had before he would wrap his arm around my shoulders or brush a lock of hair out of my face or kiss me.

"Why didn't you at least write to me and tell me?" I asked. "I had the right to know."

"I tried," he said. "But none of the letters came out right. I thought it would be better to tell you in person."

I laughed bitterly. "You thought it would be better to tell me in person? Why? So you could see my face when you told that while I was missing you, you were fucking some other girl?"

"Jesus, Dom!" he shouted. "You think this is easy for me? You think I like seeing you upset?"

"Well, it's not like you seem to care too much about my feelings!" I snapped.

"That's not true!"

A lady walking her dog stopped and stared at us. I guessed we weren't exactly keeping out voices down. I glared at her and she quickly hurried away.

"This is because I wouldn't have sex with you, isn't it?" The words came tumbling out of my mouth before I could stop them.

"I—what?" He looked completely caught off guard.

"I'm right, aren't I?" I asked. "You didn't want to stick around because I wasn't putting out for you. So you found some girl who would. It's always just about sex for you, isn't it."

"I've spent every summer with you since we were 13 years old," he said. "Do you really think that after all this time, all I wanted from you was sex?"

I sighed. "I don't know."

"Of course it wasn't, Dom. Why would you even think that?"

"Well, let me see," I said, unable to hide the sarcasm in my voice. "Maybe it's because you never even said you loved me, but still expected me to shag you. Maybe it's because when I didn't, you left and found some girl who would."

His eyebrows shot up. "You think that I don't love you? Of course I love you!"

I tried to ignore the way my heart sped up when I realized that his words were in the present tense.

"Then why didn't you ever tell me?"

"I was scared! I'd never told a girl that I loved her before."

"But if you did love me, then why did you run off and get a girlfriend?"

"Because," he said, "Amber's amazing. I really, really like her a lot. And she lives in my town and we're going to the same college in the fall. It's just so much easier being able to be with someone who's not on the other side of an ocean most of the year."

I couldn't do it anymore. I couldn't stop myself from crying.

"Dom," he said, reaching out to brush a tear from my face. "Don't cry. I'm sorry."

I smacked his hand away. "Don't," I said sharply. "You're not allowed to touch me anymore."

He stood there for a minute, looking shocked. This annoyed me. Did he really think that he could tell me he had a girlfriend and then wipe the tears off my face?

I watched as he pulled a cigarette out of his pocket and stuck it his mouth. He fumbled with his lighter for a minute before he was finally able to light it. Maybe I was making him nervous. Maybe he felt guilty. He should, I thought angrily. He should feel guilty.

"I have to go," I said, turning to leave.

"Wait!" he called after me.

I spun around. "What?"

"We can still be friends," he said, giving me a hopeful look.

I thought about the way he touched me when I'd crashed into him earlier, running his hands all over my back and my bum. What the hell was his problem? Did he think that he could keep his little girlfriend and be allowed to feel me up whenever he wanted?

"No, Dylan," I said. "We can't."

"We were friends before," he said.

"Yeah," I said. "Before. We were friends before we spent all of last summer making out. We were friends before I almost gave you my virginity. We were friends before I decided that I loved you. But I can't be your friend now. I'm sorry."

He took a long drag of his cigarette before dropping it, grinding it into the sand with his shoe. "Bye, Dom," he said quietly.

"Bye, Dylan," I said.

Then I turned and began to walk away. I told myself not to turn around and get one last glance of him over my shoulder. If I did, one of two things was bound to happen. I would either hex him into oblivion, or I would go running back to him and beg him to take me back, beg him to dump his stupid, slutty girlfriend named Amber, beg him to kiss me, to love me, to never leave me again.

So I didn't turn around. Because I couldn't do either of those things. No matter how much I may have wanted to, I couldn't.

By the time I got home, tears were running down my face again. I quickly wiped them away, not wanting anyone to see me crying. I stepped inside the house. "Mum!" I called.

She stepped out of the kitchen. "What, darling?"

"I need to talk to you about something," I said.

"About what?" she asked, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear and looking at me expectantly.

"Dylan," I said, but I don't think she heard me. Because right at that moment, Vic appeared, looking frantic.

"Mum," she said. "I'm having a wedding dress crisis. You've got to come to the shop right now!"

Mum turned and looked at me apologetically. "I'm sorry, Dom. We'll talk later, alright?"

"Yeah, sure," I said quietly. "Later."

I spent all of July and most of August sitting around the house, reading or helping with wedding preparations. I felt like I didn't know what I was supposed to do with myself. I hadn't spent a summer without Dylan in five years.

A week before the wedding, I was sitting on the couch in the living room, trying to concentrate on the words in my book, when I heard someone clear their throat.

I glanced up and found myself looking straight into Vic's face. She was standing less than a foot away from me.

I let out a yelp, my book slipping out of my hands in surprise. "What are you doing?"

"Go put on your bridesmaid's dress."

"What? Why?" I asked.

"Because I want to make sure it still fits!"

The wedding was turning Vic into a crazy person. Or at least, a crazier person than she had been before.

"It fit two weeks ago when you made me try it on in the shop. Why wouldn't it fit now?"

"I don't know," she said. "You could have gained some weight since then."

"You really think that I could have put on so much weight in the past two weeks that my dress wouldn't fit anymore?"I asked, rolling my eyes. "I'm not you, you know. I haven't run off and gotten pregnant."

She glared at me, her blue eyes narrowed. "Why do you always do that?" she asked.

"Do what?"

"Make me sound like some girl who lives in a trailer with five kids from five different fathers. You always act like I'm the biggest whore in the universe. But, I'm really not. I've been with two guys in my life. Colin and Teddy."

"I don't why you act like the idea of you being pregnant is so ridiculous anyway," she continued when I didn't respond. "It can happen even when you think you're being safe."

"Hmm," I said, pretending to think. "Maybe it's because I've never had sex."

This seemed to catch her off guard. "Not even with Dylan?"

I shook my head. "I almost did last summer, but I realized I wasn't ready."

"What about this summer?"

Once again, she was showing just how little attention she paid to my life.

"He has a girlfriend," I said.

"I thought you were his girlfriend," she asked, a confused look on her face.

"Yeah, well, I kind of did too. But I guess not."

"Well," she said. "I still need you to go put on the dress."

I sighed, slamming my book shut. "Merlin's beard, Vic."

"You could have lost some weight," she said. "Mum says you haven't been eating much lately."

"I'm going for a walk," I said. "I'll try it one when I get back."

Once I was outside, I headed into town. I wasn't sure what I was going to once I got there; I just knew I needed to get out of the house, away from Vic, away from all the wedding plans, away from everything.

Of course, getting away from everything was apparently not as easy as I had hoped. Because as I turned a corner, I spotted Dylan standing a few shops down, leaning against a wall, his phone to his ear.

"I know, baby, I miss you too," he was saying. "But I'll be coming home soon."

He paused for a moment, as the person on the other end (presumably Amber) said something. "Yeah," he replied. "I got the picture you sent."

I started to back away, not wanting to hear any more of their conversation, but before I could get anywhere he looked up and saw me.

"Dom—" he started to say.

But I didn't wait around to hear what he had to say. I just turned and ran.

The day of the wedding arrived quickly. It took place at the Burrow, in the yard. I expected Vic to be even worse than usual that morning, running around hysterically, ordering everyone around. But instead she seemed strangely calm, like she finally realized that the wedding didn't have to be perfect. Because in the long run, a wedding is just a wedding. The marriage is what matters. The marriage is what lasts forever.

I stood up in front of everyone, in the long blue dress Vic had picked out (which fit just fine). When Vic came walking down the aisle, everyone seemed to let out an audible gasp in unison. Not that I could blame them; she was beautiful. And she looked happier than I'd ever seen her look before. She didn't take her eyes off Teddy. When I glanced over at him, he was also staring at her, his eyes wide, a huge smile on his face.

Louis's words echoed in my mind.

That's true love, right there.

Before I could stop it, an image of Dylan popped into my mind. I closed my eyes, willing him to disappear. He was not my true love. He had chosen someone else.

I opened my eyes and watched as Teddy and Vic said their vows and were bonded together for life.

Later, at the reception, I was sitting alone at a table, watching everyone else dance. No matter how much I wished it wouldn't, the image of Dylan kept swimming through my mind. I wished he was here. I wished I was dancing with him, out there with everyone else, wrapped in his arms. I sighed and took another sip of firewhiskey. It burned my throat, but I didn't care. Because the more of it I drank, the blurrier Dylan's face became in my head.

I heard someone clear their throat and I looked up. It was a friend of Teddy's. His name was Robert and he had been one of the groomsmen.

"What's a pretty girl like you doing sitting all by herself," he said, stumbling into a chair across from me. He was drunk, that much was obvious.

I drained the last of my firewhiskey and smiled at him. He wasn't particularly good-looking, but he was here and he was paying attention to me. And that was more than I could say about Dylan.

"Don't feel like dancing," I said, slightly surprised when my word slurred together. How many firewhiskeys had I drunk so far?

"I saw your dress catch on fire earlier," he said, giving me a smile that, had I not had so much to drink, would have struck me as creepy. But instead, it just made me feel flattered. It felt nice to have a guy smile at me. Even if the guy was 23-year-old drunk guy at my sister's wedding.

"Yeah," I said, giggling. "My cousins James and Albus set it on fire. They thought they were being funny."

"You put it out really quickly though," he said. "You're obviously very talented."

I giggled again, though I wasn't sure why.

He reached into the pocket of his robes and pulled out his wand. I watched as he gave it a flick and two bottles of firewhiskey came flying over. He handed one to me.

"Thanks," I said, removing the cap and taking a big gulp.

A few firewhiskeys later, I found myself leaning in closer to him, laughing at something he'd said. It hadn't been funny, but I was too drunk to care. His eyes zeroed in on my chest and he smirked. I should have pulled away then. But I didn't. Instead I just leaned farther in, giving him the perfect view down the front my dress.

"Nice," he murmured appreciatively.

"Let's get out of here," I found myself saying.

A few minutes later, we were inside my grandparents' broom shed. I was pressed up against the wall, my dress bunched up around my waist, and I was snogging Robert. A guy I barely knew.

I heard the door creek open and I opened my eyes. Vic was standing there, her hands on her hips, with an expression on her face that reminded me a lot of my mother's when she was angry.

"What the hell are you doing?" she shrieked, grabbing me by the arm and pulling me out of the shed.

"Let go," I hissed, trying to pull myself out of her grip. But I couldn't; she was holding on too tightly.

"You're drunk," she said.

"So?" I snapped. "I'm 18. I can do whatever the hell I want."

"He's 23," she said. "For god's sake, Dom, I thought you were supposed to be the sensible one."

"Whatever," I said.

"I better not find you anywhere near him again," she snarled. "Or you can be sure that there will be hell to pay."

"You can't tell me what to do!" I shouted. "You're not my mother!"

"You're right, but I am you're older sister."

"So? You've never given a shit about me before! Why are you trying to start now?" I gave a final tug and broke loose from her grip.

"Vic!" someone called. "What are you doing over there? Come dance!"

She shot me one final look over her shoulders. "Don't go near him again, Dom."

I swayed slightly, watching her go. Oh yeah, I thought. Watch me.

I turned and stumbled back into the shed. Robert was leaning up against the wall, clutching a bottle of firewhiskey. He smirked when he saw me. "Back already?"

"Couldn't stay away," I said, grabbing the bottle from him and taking a huge swig. If I was going to do this, then I wanted to be as drunk as possible.

A few minutes later, I was once against pressed up against the wall of the shed.

"You're of age, right?" he whispered in my ear. "I don't want to anything illegal."

I nodded.

"Good," he replied.

I closed my eyes and leaned my head back; Dylan's face immediately appearing in my mind. This time I didn't try to get rid of the image. I wanted it there.

I wanted it there so I could pretend the guy who I was about to shag up against the wall of my grandparents' broom shed was actually someone I loved. Someone with dark brown hair and brown eyes and a lopsided grin. Someone who loved me.

Please, please review! Don't make me write another song!