Disclaimer: The magical world of Harry Potter does not belong to me. If it did, I certainly would not be studying for exams (um...supposed to be studying for exams), but instead, would be travelling the world with Tom Felton.

A/N: I was studying for my physics exam when a sudden wave of angst swept through my brain and I immediately began my terrible thoughts on paper. Please enjoy the next three minutes of emotional pain as felt through one Hermione Granger.

I felt the ceramic mug slip from my grip and land on the floor with a deafening crash. The air around me suddenly changed, growing darker, colder, oppressive. My mouth felt dry. I felt my heart dangerously stop for a moment, before breaking into pieces like shards of glass. My breathing stalled as well, before coming out in short gasps. My stomach felt like it was set on fire, yet freezing into a block of ice. I began to shudder in some sort of violent rhythm, bolts of electricity running down my spine. Wrapping my arms around myself, I fell to the ground.

"No! No! No!" I began chanting softly, but sharply. Oh Gods above, the pain was horrible. How could he…how?

The storm of tears started with a thunder rumbling from my own throat. The intensity of crying began hurting me physically, tearing me up mentally. I looked around me for a bucket or something in the similar likes as nausea swept through my body. Too late…I had already started vomiting.

I cannot tell if minutes or hours have passed, but I have finally stopped heaving. My body feels terribly weak. The tears have stopped as well, but every now and then a small sob escapes my lips. Leaning my head, which was wet with my sweat and tears, against the cold wall, I began interpreting my feelings at last.

I am not angry; I have long since given up on this emotion. I am not sad; why feel sad over someone that was never mine? I do not feel betrayed; again…he was never mine.

He had never told me that he loved me.

It was I who had told him I loved him. It was I who had given him my heart. It was I who had forsaken my friendships for him. It was I who had sacrificed myself for him.

He was never mine…but I was always his.

The newspaper that had come for me just a little while ago lay stranded on the floor, a few feet away from me. The headline of the Daily Prophet was large and bold, and was enough to break me all over again.

WEDDING OF THE YEAR: DRACO MALFOY AND PANSY PARKINSON

Goddamn it! For him I had accepted this hell of a place. I welcomed all of the taunts and all of the condemnations. How can he marry someone else?

For all that I had done for him…I had taken the blame of committing the murder that he had. He had killed my best friend…and I, fool that I am, had proclaimed that I had killed Harry Potter instead.

When I had received my sentence many years ago, not a single hint of disappointment, grief, guilt, or anger had been in my heart. Instead, my heart had swelled with happiness and pride knowing that I had saved him.

I had gladly accepted spending a lifetime in Azkaban if it meant that Draco Malfoy could spend his free.

And the sad part is, if he wanted me to, I would do it all over again.

A/N: How was my first attempt at angst? Should I write a companion piece with Draco's perspective? Review?