A/N: Okay so, this is going to be short (the author's note) so… Here we're going to meet Harry and Ginny, the cute couple who are totally in love. Queue Hermione's jealousy :D

ENJOY!

I don't know why I agreed to meet them. I honestly don't, seeing as I'm sitting here all by my lonesome, while they whisper endearing words into each other's ears and feed each other cake. Which is a big contrast to me; shoving barrowful's of cheesecake down my throat in an attempt to conceal how unhappy I'm feeling.

Ever since that phone call (it's only been a day, but I can't stop thinking about it) I've been feeling lost; a sheep away from its herd; frightened, alone, and unsure of itself. I've had this feeling – deep, deep down in the bottom of my stomach – that I'd done something wrong. Perhaps if I hadn't been so harsh…

No! I scream inside my head furiously. You deserved a break from all the heart-ache. But did I? I doubt it, but somehow… I feel like I enjoyed our relationship. As crazy as it seems, maybe I did enjoy the rampaging arguments and the caressing, tender moments that came after.

But then a voice, concerned for my well-being, interrupts my preposterous pondering. "Hermione? Are you okay?" I peer curiously over to the voice, which belongs to a fiery red-headed girl: Ginny. "You looked a little spaced out. What's up?"

I smile sheepishly, scratching my head to dispel any lingering thoughts about Draco. What's up, indeed… I don't even know anymore. I thought that I had everything planned out – I would become defiant, I would leave Draco, and I would feel no remorse whatsoever.

However… I do feel remorse. I feel sorry for leaving Draco, and I feel my defiance slipping out of my fingertips every time I think of him. As foolish as it sounds… I miss him.

I miss his teasing taunts, and the way he could make me smile so easily; the cooked breakfasts he brought me every morning without fail, made lovingly with his own hands. I can't just forget every single memory we made, even though I wish I could. But then, I couldn't tell Ginny that, or even Harry. They would both think that I was stupid for thinking it; that I was becoming soft and forgiving, when I wasn't.

But what to say? Should I make up an excuse? What would the excuse be? Should I pretend everything is fine? But nothing is fine. Should I tell her the truth? No, because she would think you were foolish.

I cough, trying to gain some time so I could think of something to say. Ginny stares at me suspiciously, and I smile brightly to appease her. "I'm fine, Ginny. I'm just feeling a bit… under the weather, is all." I explain to her. It's not the best of excuses, but it'll do for now.

Straight away, she frowns in an attempt to appear concerned, instead of eager to know why. "Oh dear, Hermione…" She looks at Harry, who looks more interested in my well-being than Ginny. "Do you know what it is that's bothering you?"

I bite back a snarky remark that went something like: No, something's bothering me but I have no clue what it is or why it's bothering me. "Did I ever mention that something was bothering me?" I raise an eyebrow incredulously.

Ginny laughs, unfazed. "I've known you for a long time, Hermione. I'd like to think that I'd know if something was bothering or upsetting you." She grins gently, attempting to nudge my shoulder but failing. "Now. Tell me what's bothering you, before I force it out of you instead."

I hold in a laugh and reply, "Aren't you already forcing it out of me? I mean, it's not like I'm willingly going to tell you."

"Oh Hermione, you've always been the smart one, haven't you?" I nod; it's true, I am pretty clever. "Well stop." I blink, surprised. "I want you to stop following your brain, and start using your heart instead. I can tell you're upset about the whole 'Draco' thing, but you're confused."

I sigh, closing my eyes and allowing my mind to rest for a second. "If you knew, then why did you ask?" I ask, as the thought crosses my mind. I know, my mind was meant to be resting, but… It's hard. I can't not think. It's a part of me, like an instinct, and it's really confusing when I don't have facts to rely on.

The reality is… To me, facts reside over feelings. Feelings are complicated, and can hurt you; facts are true and never lie. It's just… easier, that way.

"Because," Ginny begins matter-of-factly, flipping her vibrant orange hair over her shoulders dramatically. "I thought it'd be more dramatic than just saying, 'Oh, hey, you're upset about Draco'."

Sometimes I worry about this girl. Actually, scrap that – I worry about this girl all the time. I shrug my shoulders. "But that is the basis of what's wrong with me."

She tuts seriously, like an old woman scolding a young child. "Honestly, Hermione, you have no class."

"Says the woman who snogged her boyfriend in public." I retort quickly. "Honestly, Ginny," I imitate her voice to perfection, "You have no class."

I hear a chuckle, and remember that Harry is sitting diagonally to me. "But it was a good snog, I'll give her that." He winks at Ginny flirtatiously. "For a woman with no class."

Ginny screeches, catching the attention of literally everyone in the café, but she ignores them and goes on to 'attack' her boyfriend. I say attack, but… She's so weak it's like he's being hit with a pillow. He doesn't even flinch as her pale fists come in contact with his upper chest.

"Ginny, someone might call the police in a minute." I warn her. "They don't know that really, you're as weak as a new-born kitten." I stifle a laugh as she tries to injure me from across the table with a deathly glare. Luckily, though, she heeds my warning and stops trying to hurt Harry.

"Thanks, darling - it's nice to know you care." Harry says sarcastically, rubbing his chest in a mock attempt to pretend that it hurt.

"Oh, honey, you know I care." Ginny smiles soothingly, snuggling into his chest as he smiles. He wraps his arm tightly around her comfortingly, and she giggles as he kisses her head lovingly.

They're in their own bubble now – their own bubble of love. I wish I had something like that; you know, when you're just so in love with someone, that you'd do anything for them: swim through an ocean, dive into a volcano, or even take a bullet (or Avada Kedavra) for them, all in an instance.

I bet I'll never have that – I'll never have someone to love me. Draco could say whatever, but in all honesty it wouldn't make me budge. I don't deserve to be loved, I don't deserved to be cared for; I don't have anyone to love me, or care for me, but it's all the same thing in my mind.

And I trust my mind to know what's right and wrong.

I stare enviously at them as I see what could've become of Draco and I; if only… If only we'd tried harder to make amends every time we fought or argued, instead of piteously whining to our friends every day.

I shake my head: no. It's all well and good, saying 'what if', but it's not going to change anything. It's all in the past, and… I've moved on.

But what if you said sorry?

I don't need to say sorry – I haven't done anything that he hasn't, and so if he won't apologise, then I won't either.

But what if he said sorry?

If he said- No! He won't say sorry; he won't, he never will, he can't. He can't because then it'd ruin things and everything would be back to normal…

Except it wouldn't, that annoying voice in my head reasons with me. It would make things better. Your life would be better with Draco.

And it would, I suppose. Not entirely better, but more bearable.

I look at Harry and Ginny again, and see how happy they are together; my heart pangs with remorse as I realise that could've been me with Draco.

"Oh, 'Mione, I'm so sorry. We forgot… I mean, we…" Ginny stumbles over her words, trying to make them sound as nice as possible.

"It's okay, Ginny. You're in love. You're married. You forgot me, no big deal." I give a big, fat, fake smile to calm her down.

Ginny shares a look with Harry, and I instantly recognise it – it's the look that says, 'should we tell her?' and I'm worried straight away.

"What? What is it?" I ask cautiously.

Ginny sighs, rubs her eyes tiredly, and says: "That's not it, Hermione. I mean, we're in love." She smiles, looking at Harry. "We're married." She shows me her platinum ring, and it glints in the unpredictable sunlight. "But…" She audibly gulps.

"Hey, darling, we can tell her." Harry smiles. "She's our best friend, after all. We can count on her." Yes, everyone can count on me. It's what I do, I suppose…

"Right." Ginny nods, smiling. "Hermione… I'm expecting." She defiantly stares at me, waiting for me to judge her.

I'm guessing that she didn't expect me to jump out of my seat hurriedly, lunge my arms out at her, and pull her in for a humongous hug. "Ginevra Molly Potter!" I scream happily. "I'm so excited!" And I am – I love babies to bits, because ever since I was little I've wanted to be a mother. But I guess I'll have to settle for being-

"And you're the godmother, obviously!"

…godmother?

My arms limp lifelessly to my sides, and I stare at her in astonishment.

…godmother?

She stares back at me, her lips in a straight line.

…godmother?

Harry stares at us, probably worried for our well-being.

Godmother!

"Godmother!" I squeal, and she grins widely as we envelope each other in our arms.

I'm still anxious about Draco, but this news has made me so happy! I'm going to be godmother – I'm going to spoil this little munchkin to within an inch of his or hers life!

"Have you got any names in mind?" I ask, when we've quietened down – it was only after the excitement had cooled down, that I'd realised we'd captured quite the audience. Over half of the members of the café were staring at us in bewilderment, but I shushed them with a beaming smile.

Ginny laughs, stealing a quick kiss off of Harry before answering me. "If it's a girl, Lily Luna…"

"But if it's a boy, James Sirius." Harry adds, smiling as well.

"Those are both lovely names," I comment. "I love them."

"We do too." Ginny says smugly. "But anyway… What are you going to do about Draco?"

At once, my excitement dies down, and I get that familiar heartache that I've become accustomed to. I stare into the distance, and a serious atmosphere lies upon us suddenly like a heavy blanket. "I don't know." I mutter softly; helplessly.

The sun starts to fade, rather like any reasoning in my brain that is telling me to forget all about Draco. The clouds run away, like the judgement I once had on my heart. The blue of the sky stares at me, like Draco's eyes. And suddenly… I know.