I Wish...

They weren't really enemies, Hermione thought. No, not enemies. They hardly knew each other at first, being two years apart, then eventually they had become quite close. Hermione stood, now, years later in front of the alter, her father's arm wrapped through hers but her eyes trained on the woman in front of her, wearing the loveliest and most beautiful dress she had ever seen.

No, never enemies at all. Just a romance waiting to bloom in silent wishes Hermione and Astoria sent through all the nights they spent alone.