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Hermione stood and watched Ginny proceed down the aisle; she was a vision of fiery red splendor in her wedding gown. She was so happy for Ginny and Harry they had beat so many odds and fought so many inner battles to get to this point. Yet she was saddened to, a pain ran through her and she had to fight back tears, “Ron should be here, this is so unfair,” she thought to herself. Though she knew he was there for she could feel his spirit. How she missed his spirit, it had been five years since his death but it still seemed as though it were yesterday. She had lost Ron and now she was losing Harry, in a sense. She knew she would never truly lose him, but it had always been the three of them and now it seemed she was all that was left of the infamous trio.
Before she realized it their vow’s had been said and the ceremony had ended. Mostly everyone had cleared the church and was on their way to the reception. She decided to stay behind and pray for Ron, for his soul and for his love. The church was massive and the sun poured in like a kaleidoscope of colors through the stained glass windows. She breathed in the blessed atmosphere and allowed the sun’s rays to dry her tears. She sat in prayer for what seemed hours until she heard movement behind her, realizing she should make an appearance at the reception she stood to leave.
“Off so soon Granger,” a familiar voice said from behind her. She turned to see what her mind confirmed, Draco Malfoy in all his sneering glory. He had been an auror with the ministry now for the same amount of years as Harry and her, and had even served in the same battle beside Ron; the one that cost him his life.
“Draco I am really not in the mood for your egotistical jokes as of late, please spare me the waste of time it will be to continue this banter with you,” she hastily said.
She noticed that in his eyes he almost seemed offended that she used such a cross tone with him, but remembered this was Draco Malfoy, he who felt no sympathy. She went to move past him but he stepped out into the aisle and stopped her, catching one of her arms.
“You might want to clean your hands Granger, we wouldn’t want you staining that pretty dress would we?” he asked, with a sinister smile. Shocked by what he had just suggested she looked down at her hands, they were stained with blood; apparently from gripping the rose stems so hard in her bouquet.
“Funny you should even notice, Malfoy,” she said curtly and brushed past him towards the direction of the lavatory. Draco watched her leave and for the first time in his life he felt something he had never felt before, hunger; desire for a mudblood…