Ginny Weasley sat and watched the wretched ceremony. Or at least pretended to watch with a big fake smile plastered firmly on her face. Everything about her was fake today. Her joy, her heartfelt well-wishes to the happy couple, her entire life. Harry Potter was marrying Hermione Granger, and she could not believe it.

It should have been me.

The Burrow's garden was especially beautiful today. The late-afternoon, July sunlight streaming down leant the whole wedding an unearthly glow. Everyone's faces shone with angelic brightness and Ginny could not recall seeing such a large gathering of people so happy in a long time.

The happiest of all were now walking down the aisle. They had decided that their wedding would be non-traditional, and the only reason that they had an officiator(known as a priest) was Molly's insistence. Harry was beaming broadly, unruly hair now tamed and his eyes sparkling with extreme joy. This was obviously the best day of his life. Hermione's smile was not as wide, but was there nonetheless, although Ginny could detect something not quite right in it, a sort of ever present wrongness that marred her beautiful face. No one else seemed to notice though.

Hermione and Harry walked very close, and the love between them was apparent.

It was not always so.

Once upon a time it was me.

She remembered the lingering touches, the shy glances, and the sincere confession after the end of the war.

It should have been me.

But she had spurned it. She had held the greatest treasure of all in her palms and had discarded it like it was worthless, nothing but unwanted filth. Now she new better, she knew its worth. Realization had come far too late however, and now she was left to wallow in her own self-loathing for giving up the one good thing in her entire damn miserable life.

It should have been me.

The couple neared the altar, and it sickened Ginny to see them like this, it all felt so strange and surreal, like she was watching the whole thing through a stained glass window, dabbling everything in hues of longing and hatred. She hated everything right now, she hated everyone. She knew she had no right to feel this way, she had been the one to refuse the advances, she had been the one who cast it all aside. Now she was paying the price. Once more her eyes found their smiles and lingered on them.

It should have been me smiling.

The priest finished his long, boring monologue about the love they shared, and Ginny wanted to puke.

"Does anyone have any objections", he asked the room in the voice of a man who had never received an answer to this question and who found it a perfunctory waste.

This was Ginny's last moment, the last time she could do something about this travesty.

Her last chance to save herself.

This could be me.

But she was unable to speak. Her throat felt like it was the size of a pencil and she could force no words out.

"I hereby proclaim you husband and wife".

The words hit her like a bullet and ripped her numbness apart, replacing it with a horrific burning in her chest, in her eyes, hell in her entire body. It felt like she was being eaten by acid from the inside out, slowly fading into nothing but a shadow. And then she saw them kiss.

It should have been me.

It was hours later, the pain was gone and the hollowness was back, but this time it consumed her entire being. Everyone at the party had commented that she looked like she had seen a ghost. She would laugh it off but she knew that she had. In the mirror. When she had glanced at her reflection it had scared her. She looked like a walking corpse. Her eyes seemed completely black in the shadow cast by the late afternoon sun, while her fiery hair and skin shone brightly, but without the health, vitality and the vibrancy she normally exuded. It shined rather with the accursed sunlight, and served only to highlight how unhealthily pale she had become.

She had been sitting by a stream that ran a few miles away from the Burrow for an hour now just staring out into the sky.

That was when she saw them. They had obviously come out here for privacy. Ginny knew she should just apparate away, probably out of their lives forever. That was what she wanted to do. That was what every fibre of her self-preservation screamed at her to do, but she couldn't. Her eyes were inexorably drawn to them and she was frozen in place, completely incapable of movement. She was forced to watch as they kissed.

It should have been me.

But it wasn't. The couple now pulled away from the kiss and Ginny could see Hermione's face. Harry had his eyes closed and was leaning into her chest, and Ginny could swear she saw Hermione's smile falter when she looked down at Harry. She looked almost... Guilty.

Then she looked up and saw Ginny. Her face contorted into an expression of horror and Ginny could swear she saw tears in Hermione's eyes, was that longing?

Ginny would never know because at that moment Harry looked up and recaptured her lips and Hermione's smile returned, just as fake as Ginny's.

She should have been mine.