A/N: Hoho. Sorry guys. xDD I forgot the Author's Note :3

So yeah, here it is.

Okay, this is like a fanfic around a Tagalog Song called "Pangarap Lang Kita" (or "You're Only A Dream" in English. Or something like that xDD) by my favorite band, Parokya Ni Edgar.

Now, people, don't get me wrong.

I HAVE, AND ALWAYS WILL, SHIP DRAMIONE. :3nod:

That's all. :3 Enjoy reading!

"To the newly-weds!" Harry Potter exclaimed happily as a finishing touch to his speech, raising his glass as a salute.

"HEAR, HEAR!" The audience responded enthusiastically, raising their glasses also. They drank deeply, and after they drained their glasses, applauded immensely.

The groom guffawed and hit Harry on the back. "I'm glad you're my best man," Ron Weasley said happily. He had been unable to wipe the big grin on his face for the last half-hour.

"You don't have any other choice, mate," Harry replied, rolling his eyes. "I can't say congratulations enough to both of you. Especially you, Hermione."

The bride grinned. "Of course, Harry. I'm very lucky to have both my best friends here on my own wedding," she said, ruffling the boys' hair.

"Ah, no!" Harry shrieked, his black hair all untidy like his father's. "Hermione, no fair! It took Ginny two hours for it to come down!" He stopped, smelled his hair, and wrinkled his nose. "On second thought, thanks. I was a bit doubtful of Ginny's 'hair gel'. It smells like cement."

Ron sniggered. "Well, at least there's no doubt you are the Boy Who Lived."

"What are you saying? That you doubted your best mate would be here? Huh?"

Hermione let the two boys bicker, sipping her Muggle cocktail drink. It was the best day of her life. She was married, almost all the people in the Wizarding World were here behind the Burrow to celebrate, and everyone was happy.

At least, everyone that was here.

She frowned. Out of courtesy, she had invited Draco Malfoy to the wedding. Harry had insisted the man had changed, always handing in the paperwork to him on time at the Auror Department when she had hesitated. It wasn't because of the years before the War, she had wanted to say. It was because of the years after.

She had almost said this, but caught the words before they tumbled out of her lips. She had to remind herself that Harry and Ron did not know that she and Draco were once together. They had gone outside for business over coffee, and after a month of that, started to go on tentative dates. Those times were fun, she had thought occasionally whenever he wasn't around. And it seemed as though he was going to be the one.

But she had seen him with another woman.

That scene never faded from her mind with Draco striding across Diagon Alley, Astoria Greengrass trailing behind. She had followed them into the dark alley they had disappeared to, abandoning Harry at Weasley's Wizard Wheezes and 'borrowing' his Invisibility Cloak for a moment. There she saw Astoria kissing him. He was just standing there, back to the wall, his polo already unbuttoned and flying back because of the wind. And, after a few moments, he had hugged her to him, deepening the kiss.

She had gone back to the panicking Harry, teary-eyed, handing over the Cloak. She didn't have the energy to explain; she just ran out of the shop, Apparated to her flat, and cried on her bed for hours on end.

Draco had visited her after six hours, and it was just his luck that Hermione had not run out of tears yet.

That night was the one night she would never forget, for it was the one night they had a fight, the one night she had broken up with him, and the one night she threw him out the door.

"Hermione…?" Harry said suddenly, shaking her shoulders lightly.

"W-what?"

"It's time for you and Ron to start the dance," he reminded, giving her a little push.

"All right, all right, I'm going," she snapped. Harry put up his arms in the universal sign of surrender and she took Ron's outstretched, expectant hand. The music started, and the couple swayed in the middle of the tent, the spotlight solely on them.

"So," Ron whispered. "How's the new Mrs. Weasley?"

He twirled her under his arm, and Hermione rolled her eyes. "She's just fine, Ronald," she answered. "She's just a bit anxious at all the people looking at them."

"Don't mind them. They're just jealous. It's me, you'll get used to it."

"Prat," she muttered, smacking his arm lightly. The crowd emitted a nervous titter, and they hushed again.

They kept on dancing, with Ron twirling her at unexpected times. She was getting faintly drowsy with the tune, and, after a few more minutes, some people finally got the idea to dance, too. Soon, the newlyweds were surrounded by dancing men and women of all ages, whispering congratulations when they pass the couple.

"Ron, can I please sit down?" Hermione pleaded a bit later. "My shoes are killing me."

"Sure, Mione," he replied, kissed her on the cheek, and led her to the chair placed for them in front of everybody.

"Bloody hell," Ron murmured, looking over the sea of people inside the tent once they had sat down. "Harry invited a lot of people."

"Don't forget, Ginny was in this invitation thing, too," she replied, rubbing her throbbing soles and glaring at the gorgeous silver three-inches Ginny had force her to wear while walking down the aisle. "Man, what was she thinking, giving me shoes like these?"

"I dunno," he said, shrugging. "We never understood her. Except maybe Mom and Harry, of course."

Hermione giggled, but then there was something disturbing her. The whole crowd had stopped dancing, and they were whispering. It was as if a hundred snakes started to hiss in unison. All heads were turned towards the entrance of the tent, though with her sitting at the very front, she had no view of who the latecomer was.

"Hermione? Ron?" Ginny said, scampering to them, her face pale. "I-I can't find Harry. Have you seen him?"

As soon as the couple shook their heads no, someone roared, "Draco!" and Harry Potter slung an arm around the tall form by the entrance, his other arm barely able to keep the glass of firewhiskey he was holding upright.

"You made it, maaaan!" he slurred, patting Draco on the back good-naturedly. Hermione could faintly see the other form grin awkwardly.

"Oh, there he is," Ginny murmured darkly. She went to the entrance, pulled Harry off of Draco, and apologized profusely.

"I'm really sorry, Draco, he's just like this on weddings, you understand – "

"No, it's no problem," he replied, smiling. "Err… may I talk to the bride, please? It will only take a moment," he added for reassurance.

At these words, the whole crowd looked at Hermione. She, however, faced them with the same incredulous face. Ron tapped her on the shoulder, saying, "You sure about this?"

"Yeah," she whispered, smiling and patting his cheek. "I'll be just fine."

Mustering up her strength, she walked in the middle of the huge sea of people. It was like a human "Red Sea" – all the people parted so she could pass. They made a direct path to Draco, whose face was unnervingly calm and composed, just like his father's was. She didn't even notice she had left her shoes on the platform with Ron, and was walking without anything on her feet.

Draco smiled. "Shall we talk outside?"

Hermione nodded. Draco went aside so she could exit first, and he followed as soon as her face hit sunshine.

Talking to your ex during your wedding was very, very awkward. Or that was what Hermione felt.

Draco Malfoy had no insecurities, whatsoever, and he smiled as he looked out the magnificent waterfall beside the tent. "The Weasleys really know what to do in a wedding."

Hermione didn't know how to answer to that, so she kept quiet.

"Congratulations," he continued with no hint of anger on his voice. "Weasley is one lucky bastard."

"Draco," she whispered finally. "I think you should leave before things get out of hand."

He chuckled, taking her aback. "You think I'd attempt to ruin such a grand wedding as yours?" There was the glint of amusement in his stormy-grey eyes. "Hermione, I've changed. Of all the people, you should know that."

She nodded and said nothing.

There was silence again as they listened to the babbling water flow, its crystal clear appearance so breathtaking that they thought, not for the first time, if they were dead and in some kind of paradise. The birds chirped away. The wind playfully passed by between them, making ripples on the grass, but they still held their tongues.

"Why were you late?" she asked, not being able to keep her silence much longer.

"Oh, you know," he said, scratching his head. It was the first time in the conversation that he seemed evasive. "Business at the Ministry."

She raised her eyebrow at him questioningly. "I thought I invited Mr. Draco Malfoy and Miss Astoria Greengrass? Where is she?"

"How should I know?" he said, looking distant. His eyes were locked on something far away. "I'm not her mother. That's one think I'm thankful for."

She giggled, smirking.

"Listen," he said, getting serious. "I'm sorry… about that day. I didn't have a chance to defend myself – "

Oh, no, she thought frantically. He's going to plead.

" – but I think it's hardly necessary," he continued. "You're a Mrs. Weasley now, after all."

"W-what?" she asked.

He sighed. "I think I'm too late," he said casually, smiling that lopsided smile she so loved. "Too late to get you back."

"Draco – "

"But that's fine." He looked over to something far again, squinting his eyes. "Maybe this wasn't the path I'm supposed to take."

Another awkward silence.

"Oh!" he exclaimed. He fished for something in his pocket and found a small package wrapped in brown paper and tied hastily with an emerald ribbon. "It's my gift to the newlyweds," he explained. "Sorry; I didn't have time to wrap. And I thought that Weasley wouldn't want something from me, so I got something only for you."

Hermione untied it gingerly, and something clinked into her hand. It was a beautiful necklace, with a silver butterfly on the end. It had rubies adorning the dainty wings, and emeralds for the eyes. All in all, it was as breathtaking as the waterfall behind her, and she could feel her eyes watering.

"Draco, you didn't have to spend a lot for a gift," she muttered, smiling a wobbly smile as she examined the butterfly.

"No, no. It's special, the wedding. I wanted my gift to be special, too." He smiled, and right there, there was a little hint of sadness at the corners of his mouth. He turned around, with his back facing her, so she couldn't see his face crumbling, and said, "Read the inscription."

She held up the paper the necklace was wrapped in, and she saw a familiar handwriting on it. She closed her eyes, readying herself, opened them again, and read:

Even though I love you

There is nothing I can do.

I have accepted this, my love:

You're my dream that won't come true.

Hot tears spilled over her eyelids as she read the last line. She looked up to find no one there. Draco's retreating back was a small form over the hill.

"Draco!" she screamed.

He looked back at her, with her face crumbling, the tears racing down her cheek. He so wanted to kiss those tears away, but he knew it wasn't right. He had grown up with manners, after all, and he was no idiot to think that he could get away with kissing a woman that was not his anymore.

He smiled sadly, shouted, "I guess some dreams just don't come true, Hermione," and with an apologetic wave, he Apparated away.

She crumpled the paper, and put it close to her chest just as Ginny went outside.

"Hermione?" she said hastily. "Where's Draco? And why are you crying?"

Hermione didn't answer.

"Was that bastard the one who made you cry?" Ginny continued, taking out her wand from the fold of her sleeve. "Why, I oughtta – "

"No," she answered. "He didn't make me cry. I was just… staring at the sun too long."

Ginny pursed her lips, understanding from Hermione's tone that she didn't want to go into details. "Well, come on, let's get inside. You don't want to miss your own cake being sliced, now, do you?"

In spite of herself, Hermione laughed, wiping the tears away. "Of course not. You go on ahead, I'll just get ready."

Ginny's dress disappeared from her view, but she was still hesitant. Even as a married woman, she was still hoping for him to return. But there was something whispering in her ear that this was the last time he was going to appear in front of her.

With that, she wore the necklace, the butterfly resting just below the hollow of her throat. She hid the scrap of paper with a flick of her wand, and, after one last look over her shoulder, walked barefoot inside the tent, ready to face what was waiting for her: a new name, and a new life, one that didn't include someone named Draco Malfoy.