Hermione sat alone, sipping her third glass of champagne as she watched the happy couple. Her fingers toyed aimlessly with the delicate lace of the tablecloth while she considered all of her choices that brought her to this very moment. For the greater part of her life, people, friends and strangers, referred to her as the "brightest witch of her age," and she believed they couldn't be more wrong.

She ripped her eyes away from the couple and scanned the room. Red hair everywhere. The entire Weasley family, including the extended family from 3 different countries, were spread around the room, exchanging jokes and pleasantries. It was a joyous occasion and if anything, the Weasley's knew how to celebrate.

It wasn't just ANY celebration though. It was Ron and Lavender's wedding reception. She focused back on the newlyweds and felt sick—not from jealously or sadness, but disgust with herself. She watched Harry slap a friendly hand on Ron's back while Lavender was gushing to Ginny about her sparkling ring.

Hermione didn't know why she did it. She chose this path. After the war, she began a relationship with Ron and thought it would last forever. Weren't they destined to be together? Everyone thought so, herself included, even if she would never admit something so juvenile. She shortly realized the idea of her and Ron as a couple and actually being a couple, were two completely different things. He drove her absolutely mad. He was messy, immature, unorganized—she felt more like his mother than his girlfriend. She never left him though. His loyalty, his genuine love and kindness he constantly showed her, it overpowered the annoying. She knew she should have broken it off, but leaving someone you love and care about just doesn't feel right.

When Ron proposed to her, she didn't mean to seem so callous or numb. They were cuddled up in bed one evening, listening to the rain hit the windows and the wind blow through the tree leaves. It was a peaceful rain. She felt more relaxed than she had in months and Ron must have been feeling the sense of complete comfort as well and just blurted out, "Marry me, Hermione."

She didn't even skip a beat before she said a simple no. Just like that.

"No."

They both froze. It wasn't the answer either of them expected. The rain seemed to become heavier and the wind stronger. A lovely summer rain seemed to be turning into a hurricane and all she could hear around her was her heavy heartbeat and Ron's quick, short breaths. He jerked away from her suddenly, sitting up and staring at her like she was a stranger.

She wished he would say something. Ron is normally quick tempered and speaks without thinking and is constantly putting his foot in his mouth, but not tonight. Hermione watched as he quickly got dressed, throwing on his clothes that he had left on the floor, and grabbed a suitcase from the closet.

"Ronald."

He didn't respond as he haphazardly threw clothes in the suitcase, not daring to make eye contact with her. Hermione got up from the bed and wrapped her arms tightly around herself as she watched him gather his things. She should try to stop him. She did love him, right? He was clearly hurting. She should comfort him. She should wrap him up in her arms and hold him tightly, begging him not to leave. She should fight for him, for them.

As Ron wheeled his suitcase out of the room, she tried to force herself to go after him. They were destined to be together, right? She couldn't move. If she was being honest with herself, she knew she didn't want to go after him. She did love him, yes, but she wasn't in love with him.

Hermione heard the door slam and she stood quietly in her room looking at the floor where his dirty clothes once were. She felt guilty about how much relief she was feeling. She felt free for the first time in a long time.

It took them a few weeks to actually speak again. It took them months to be friends again. She thought that was what they were. Friends. She was genuinely happy for him when she learned of his engagement. Hermione didn't feel any lingering feelings between them. She didn't want to be with Ron. She didn't want to live the rest of her life feeling like she had settled. Sometimes it seemed selfish to her, but she wanted an extraordinary life. She just knew she had to be meant for more than cleaning up after her husband.

So why, WHY, on earth did she sleep with Ron this morning? She finished off her glass of champagne, hoping the buzz of alcohol would help with the guilt and disgust she was feeling. Hermione didn't know why she did it. It was completely out of character for her. She wasn't a homewrecker. She wasn't jealous. She didn't want to be with Ron. Why did she kiss him? Why did she not stop it?

Hermione grabbed the untouched glass next to her and took a sip. She didn't deserve a pity party, but she was throwing herself one. She wanted to forget the entire day. She couldn't fix this. The damage was done. She would make sure no one found out, but that only goes so far. She will always know what she did. She didn't think she could possibly feel any worse.

"Trying to drink yourself into a drunken stupor are you, Granger?"

Of fucking course, Draco Malfoy.