It’s the most beautiful she’s ever looked.

Even though her doting mother-to-be took her dress shopping, she feels emotionally disconnected from the gown. Can’t imagine browsing photo albums years from now and reminiscing about how lovely she looked, how happy.

The door swings open and Ginny enters, shooing everyone out. An entourage of champagne-sippers and yes-women, oohing at Hermione’s tamed curls, aahing at the scratchy veil draped down her spine.

Her brow furrows.

“You have a visitor.” Ginny steps aside, letting the tall blond inside, dressed black-tie appropriate because it’s what he wears daily not because he was invited.

“What are you doing?” She refuses to look at him.

Ginny takes her hands. “Ron’s my brother, but you’re my best friend.”

“Gin-”

“Harry loves you. George will come around. Dad has always cared for you and always will. And Mum… let me worry about her.”

She shakes her head to protest.

Ginny stops her. “You deserve happiness.”

Before Hermione can stammer out a dozen excuses, Ginny leaves, nodding at Malfoy on her way out.

He’s watching her with mixed emotions, awe and disbelief, a jealous clench to his jaw. “Say you love him more and I’ll leave you alone forever.”

She notes the way he says more, because he’s not naïve enough to think she doesn’t love her groom at all. That she wouldn’t sacrifice herself to ensure his happiness.

“Hermione, look at me.”

She shouldn’t. Otherwise, she’d glimpse those eyes, see the way they soften on her, feel terror because nobody will look at her like that again.

Self-control means turning away and telling him she doesn’t love him anymore.

“Leave, Draco. You weren’t invited.”

“No.” The tone of his voice shifts, stubborn enough to remind her exactly why they shouldn’t work.

He has a temper.

A piss-poor reputation.

Bribes and blackmails his way through life.

He knows her better than anyone and loves her best.

Listens to her.

Has left her alone for months because she begged him to when Ron needed her.

“Things were never meant to escalate to this.” There’s a glassy sheen in his eyes. “I never should have let you go.”

“I asked you to.”

“Here’s the thing, Granger, sometimes you’re wrong. And maybe I deserve this. Losing you is the deepest pain I’ve ever known, and I’ll live with it if that’s what you want. But you deserve me.”

Her corset is too tight. Skirts too heavy.

“You’ll spend your entire life taking care of him when I’d take care of you.”

“He needs me.” Her voice is a broken whisper, straight from the heart.

“Why do you think Weasley let me in? Who do you think changed me so thoroughly she chose me over her own brother? Three years ago, I wouldn’t be caught dead here.”

Malfoy is nothing if not persuasive. She knows this.

But it doesn’t mean he’s not telling the truth.

“When they discover I left Ron at the altar to run away with you, I won’t be me anymore. My reputation will be destroyed.”

His mouth quirks. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”

“It’s not funny!”

His smile fades. “If you’re making this decision because of public perception, maybe you aren’t you anymore.”

He turns to leave, expression crestfallen, shoulders weighed down by disappointment.

Panic guts her open, watching him leave her behind.

“Wait.”

Malfoy pauses. Turns. Reaches out his hand. Eyes brimming with promise. Body full of strength. She’ll need every ounce of it.

When the wedding entourage returns, they find an empty room and a discarded veil.

Amid panicked chaos, Ginny pours herself a glass of champagne.

(600 words, loosely inspired by this scene from Gossip Girl.)

dracosgoodgirl

This is what I needed to read today!

Dramione always hits the spot 👏🏽👏🏽

Fanfic Rec #120