Dramione One-Shots (Collection)

Something Stupid

Written by LadyKenz347

https://archiveofourown.org/works/17950616

***

Even on his wedding day, Harry's spectacles were smudged with fingerprints. Her lips pressed together in a tight line, hiding a smile as she stared at friend.

"Are you happy?" Harry asked, his brows quirked curiously upward, his hand burning into her lower back.

"Happy for you," she conceded with a forced smile.

"I'm sorry he brought her."

Her ribs closed in on her lungs, forcing the air out in a harsh huff. He thought it was about Ron... and maybe it was, in some twisted world where she actually gave a shit about Ron fucking his coworker.

But there was the very real, very hurt part of her that watched her best friend marry the girl of his dreams tonight. The boy she fell in love with under a tented ceiling with a dying fire. A boy that had made her feel hope and love and want on a horribly transfigured cot. Night after night they'd found comfort in each other and each time she had left a bit of her heart with him.

But sure. It was because of Ron.

The song ended and with a chaste kiss on her temple, he let her go, not sparing a glance back as he scooped Ginny into his arms and twirled her around the dance floor, matching a melody that was far more them.

Hermione snagged a flute of champagne from a passing tray and tried her very best not to scowl. Both Ron and Harry led their witches through a lovely dance under a canopy of twinkling lights while Hermione pouted in her obnoxiously red gown.

It was fucking gaudy to have a crimson and gold wedding, and she didn't care if Godric himself was rolling in his tomb at her thoughts.

The dress wasn't all that bad, honestly. Ginny had gushed over the Grecian lines of the ruby chiffon and the way it hung beautifully from Hermione's figure. However, Hermione had pleaded for something less... well less. Ginny was never one to be dissuaded, insisting she deserved to stand out. She wasn't just any Maid of Honor, after all, she was best friend to the bride and the groom. Oh, joyous day.

Ginny never knew what happened in the months that stretched between Bill and Fleur's wedding and the Final Battle. She had a highlight reel, enough that she could fill in the gaps at parties, but she didn't know.

"Oh, Granger. You and your ever pining heart." She felt a crawl up her spine and her lip tugged into a sneer. "You know, you make that face too often. I swear I saw you staring at a house elf in the office with the same longing just the other week."

"Go away, Malfoy," she sighed, plucking another flute and tipping it to her lips. "How you even weasel your way into social events like this is beyond me." She scowled with a roll of her eyes. "Or forgive me, would ferret be a more appropriate term?" Her eyes went wide with faux concern and when he only smirked in response, she stuck the tip of her pink tongue out at him, returning to watching the happy couples.

"Tell me," he purred into her curls, his chest brushing against her open back. "Which one are you crying over tonight? I hope it's Potter. It's all horribly tragic that you've no shot with him, but at least that would mean you have better taste than actually caring about the Weasel."

Tears pricked at the back of her eyes and she bit down on her lip, rage and shame coursing through her.

"How drunk are you?" His words were velvet against her skin and she leaned into him.

She turned her head lazily towards him, breathing a confession against his pale cheek. "Drunk enough to do something stupid."

She felt his hot hand grip her hip bone through the thin fabric of her dress, pulling her into him. The reception raged around them, dozens of drunken gingers falling over themselves to be invited to the great Harry Potter's wedding. No one noticed the way she pressed her bum into his tented trousers.