Disclaimer: All belongs to J K Rowling.

A/N: It's been a very long time since I've written any kind of fan fiction, but I found this, nearly finished, written not long after Deathly Hallows was published, hidden among my old notebooks. I couldn't help but put it up here for old times sake, and finish the end of it with your thoughts in mind. It's not a long story, and as I said, it's mostly written. I look forward to hearing what you think about it. Be warned...it's all angsty and mushy.

Prologue

Hermione smoothed out her dress. Her white dress. She could just about comprehend that in less than an hour she was going to be someone's wife. As for that someone being Lucius Malfoy was something she didn't think she would ever get her mind to understand. However, her heart was very sure of one thing- its love for this man was so great she thought it would break if she held anymore for him.

Taking a last look in the mirror, Hermione straightened her small diamond hanging from a delicate gold chain. It was the first gift Lucius had ever given her. She gave the dress another look for creases in the silk, floor-length, simple wedding gown. No fancy needlework, no bold colours, and definitely nothing puffy. Just straight, clean and figure-hugging with a modest cut on the bodice. And on this rare occasion, Hermione's hair fell in sleek waves down her back.

Now that she was ready, Hermione took this time she'd saved to calm her nerves…she pulled a book off the shelf and went to the bay window. A glance through the window showed a large marquee residing on a substantial amount of the Malfoy grounds. Food was being shepherded into it speedily by Mrs Weasley and any poor souls she'd roped into helping. Hermione beamed at the sight before taking a seat, careful not to crease herself.

Almost at the end of the first chapter Hermione found her jittery nerves were distracting and she had no idea what she had just read. As she put the book back in its place a knock came at the door.

'Go away, Lucius!' Hermione berated softly. 'I told you not half an hour-' she stopped when it was Harry that entered into the room. 'Harry!'

'Sorry,' he apologised at breaking her rules of seeing her before the wedding. Harry faltered for a moment at seeing how delicate and beautiful she looked. He had a bad feeling about the letter he was holding, but Harry felt it his duty to be here if her heart was going to be broken. 'I went to…to check on Lucius, Hermione.'

The smile Hermione had held since he walked in the room disappeared.

'There was just this in his room.' Harry handed her the folded parchment.

Hermione took it and let her eyes rest on her name written in Lucius' fluid hand.

Shakily she unfolded it.

Not so long ago, Lucius had said four words that had made Hermione happier than she had thought possible: will you marry me?

In this letter Lucius had used four words to destroy that happiness and break her heart: You'll understand. Forgive me.

Harry managed to catch Hermione when her knees buckled and held her while she broke down in his arms.

Lucius threw his brandy-filled tumble at the mirror he'd been watching Hermione through, smashing the glass and mirror into many tiny pieces. He had seen her break down when she had read his letter. Lucius had done many cruel things in his life to gain power and to be on the right side of events. In hindsight, Lucius regretted every action with a fierce passion, but there was one that had haunted him for five years now. He thought about it every day. One action that he'd been desperately trying to atone for ever since he had done it. Now something else would take its place.

Lucius Malfoy is a strong and proud man with nothing able to break him. Or so he had thought. The moment Lucius saw Hermione's heart break, his own shattered and he instantly became a shell of a man.

Sinking down against the wall Lucius numbly watched all the other mirrors and the scenes of wedding preparations still continuing through his Manor. Pulling the bottle of brandy off the only table in the Room of Mirrors to him, ignoring some of it spilling onto his trousers and the glass cutting into the back of his legs, Lucius took a long and undignified gulp from the bottle.

'She'll understand one day,' Lucius whispered to the room.