If anyone has the answer to what you're meant to say or do when the one person you were never truly over comes back into your life on your wedding day and says those three words, I'd love to meet them.

It's not normal for me to be this unsure. I was the smartest witch in my year, and I still am one of, if not the, smartest witch of my generation. When it comes to love though...there aren't any books which you can memorise- you just have to make it up as you go along, and I've never been so good at that.

I first knew I loved him when I was still a teenager. I knew that what I felt wasn't the unintelligent girly crush that Lavender had on him; and it wasn't the same feeling Harry reserved for Cho. It was the same deep-rooted, unfathomable, passion that Harry has for Ginny; that Ginny always had for Harry.

And I didn't tell him how I felt. I couldn't. He was my best friend, and I didn't want to ruin that. I couldn't ruin what we had in the hope that he'd turn round and say he felt the same way. I couldn't tell him that every time I saw him with Lavender, it broke my heart. Every time I saw them, I imagined I was her. I imagined it was me that he had on his lap, it was my eyes he looked into, and it was me he kissed at every opportunity. It was me who was with him all the time.

I eventually told him the year after we helped Harry find the horcruxes. And my heart leapt when he said he felt the same. I can still remember the soft way he looked at my face, before pushing his hands into my hair and kissing me softly. I was taken off-guard and prepared at the same time. I thought that would be it. That we'd be together forever. I suppose that was where my teenage brain kicked in, over-riding all logical thoughts I had in my head.

A few years after that, when I was just 23, he asked me to sit down as he had something he had to say to me. It was raining outside, so we were shut in his bedroom surrounded by relics of our time in Hogwarts- a Gryffindor scarf, photos with Hagrid, battered spell books that he didn't have the heart to throw away. I remember sitting on the edge his bed, and expecting Ron to sit next to me. He sat on his desk. That's when I should've realised. But I didn't. I was still in the dream world where Ron and I were everything to each other.

He ran his hand through his hair, coughed and shuffled several times before he eventually spoke.

"I don't think this is working Hermione. I'm sorry. I think...I think I got confused," his cheeks flamed a brilliant red, as bright as his hair, "I think we're just meant to be friends."

I couldn't answer. I just walked away and I didn't look back, as much as it hurt me. When I got back to my flat I lay on my bed and sobbed. For days all I did was cry whenever something reminded me of him. And having loved him for so long, and as deeply as I did, I was spending most of my day crying.

A few months later I was in Diagon Alley for no reason other than I felt like visiting the shops, when I saw him up ahead, arm-in-arm with Lavender Brown. They were walking towards me, so I chose to dive into a shop rather than have to face the agony of talking to them. I didn't look before I threw myself, and consequently found my face pressed up against Draco Malfoy's chest.

"Watch it, Granger," he said firmly, pushing me backwards. I brushed myself down, and looked up at him.

"Sorry Draco," I said quietly, glancing over my shoulder as I did so, just in time to see Ron lean down to kiss Lavender as he passed. Draco followed my gaze. Unusually for Draco, he didn't jeer. He looked at me with a strange look in his eye, full of concern.

"You look like you could do with a drink...come on," he gestured to the Leaky Cauldron and I just followed him, trying desperately to stop myself from crying again.

It was probably the combination of feeling worthless and the alcohol that resulted in me inviting Draco back to my flat. I was more than a little surprised that he accepted.

Nothing happened that night. Or the next few occasions he came around. It wasn't until he'd been coming round every other day for over a year that I realised I wasn't think of Ron as much, and when I did it was only for a little while and as a fond memory.

The same night as I realised, Draco come round. One minute we were sat either end of the sofa, watching some film about Albus Dumbledore; the next minute he had leant across to tuck a strand of hair back from my face.

I looked at him steadily, and he held my gaze, before he eventually seemed to surrender to a great weight that had been pushing down on him, and he slid his hand from my hair to cup my face.

"Hermione, I know this is gonna seem weird but..." he paused and took a deep breath. Before he could start speaking again I kissed him. I don't know what came over me, it just felt right. I pulled back and looked at him. I could feel the blush rising in my cheek, but I didn't care. I was very much aware of my heart pounding in my chest, as I realised I'd laid it on the line once more. Draco studied my face for a second.

"Are you sure?" he asked quietly. I nodded. With this answer Draco leant further forward and pressed his soft lips onto mine. For a long while we just sat like that, lips touching, his hand on my face. Then, as the minutes ticked by and the film ended, a sudden urgency and Draco's hands slid from my face to hold my waist.

The following months were a blur of feeling. A blur of being with each other as often as was possible. The boy from Hogwarts who I had once punched; who had made every effort to ruin my school days; whose relatives had tortured me for being a mud-blood; who I didn't want to be near, had become the man I couldn't bear to be away from.

We were a couple for 4 years before we moved in together. In our fifth year together, months before my 30th birthday, I discovered I was pregnant. He had tears in his eyes the day I told him, and he said that he now knew exactly what to get me for my birthday. It was one of the few occasions I was really excited about my birthday- I genuinely had no idea what Draco was planning, and I had to wait 4 whole months before I'd get the answer.

On the morning of my birthday, I was stroking the small bump which was just visible under my nightdress, when Draco came up with a small grin on his face, and breakfast and presents on a tray.

"Happy birthday Hermione," he kissed me lightly on the forehead and sat next to me, putting the tray on my lap. Then he took a small box and looked at it before speaking.

"I know this isn't the best way to do this but I don't actually have any other ideas, so I'm going to take the easy way for once," he shuffled off the bed, and knelt on one knee, "Hermione, will you marry me?"

I couldn't speak. I swallowed several times, but I still felt like there was a lump in my throat. I nodded instead. The nervous smile on Draco's face turned into a beaming smile that lit his pale blue eyes as he leapt up to embrace me.

"I love you, Hermione." He said softly into my ear, his head resting on my shoulder.

"I love you too," I smiled, kissing his cheek.

That was 5 months ago. And now I'm sat in my wedding dress, staring out of the window, feeling a lot like Miss Havisham. I want to stop the clocks, and let time run on without me, and I'll just stay here in my wedding dress as spiders, mice and mould take over the wedding feast. Ron came and said his piece. Said he still loves me, and never stopped. He told me that his heart broke the day he received the heavily debated wedding invite; and it broke into even smaller pieces when he read the name of the groom. He told me that he'd never wanted to have to get over me, and he didn't believe I was over him.

"Hermione, it's time to go down." Luna smiled, holding mine and Draco's daugher tightly in her arms, before wandering back out of the room.

I looked down at the engagement ring on my finger, and the crimson roses in my lap.

I love Draco. But I still love Ron. I was never over Ron.

What am I supposed to do?

Luna's run back up the stairs, "Hermione, he wants to talk to you."

"Who does, Luna?" I asked, playing with my engagement ring.

Luna didn't answer, she just smiled knowingly. That's my answer. Whichever one walks into the room now, is the one who I'm meant to marry. I can see that in Luna's dancing eyes and the way she skipped from the room.

I can't help but smile myself, when I see the soft eyes smiling back whilst my daughter lies asleep in his arms.