Disclaimer: I will never own harry potter. you can count on that.

That day the sun glowed, mocking

On this her wedding day.

That day the sun shone, mocking

As happy people were laughing and talking

He stood apart from the rest, lost in pain

Knowing today, he would be drastically changed

Holding no invite, he entered the church

His queasy stomach giving an uncomfortable lurch

He sat in the back, not wanting to see

What he knew was soon to come to be

His pale hair glimmered in the sun

As he wondered what on earth he had done

To deserve this agony, this torture

For he didn't care if his blood was pure

He wished so much that it was him

Standing up there, so happy within

Sure that he would have forever

A girl who would make him so much better

The pain quite literally tore him in two

For with her gone, he didn't know what he'd do

It seemed that a knife was running through him, showing his blood

As red and pure as hers – which wasn't brown like mud

Though, maybe his was, he was so condemned

Even so, he would still rather pretend

That he was good enough to be the one

To meet her at the alter under the blazing sun

For, taught to hate, he only saw the good

And even though he had known he should

Never feel that way, for it would destroy

His heart, life, hope, and joy

And here he was, knowing that was true

Crying as she entered in her brilliant white hue

Her smile was breathtaking, as always

As she glowed like an angel in the summer haze

Her march to her groom was confident and strong

As the musicians played a melancholy song

So he glided up to him, full of grace

A look of pure delight on her face

And as she smiled up at her groom

He knew what would occur so soon

And he could hardly watch as they said those binding words

He had wanted to see, but he was filled with hurt

He'd thought he could handle watching vows being said

But watching Weasley with her made him wish he was dead

He doubted she even knew

What one glance from her made his heart do

Beating, thudding, smashing, pounding

So very loud, always sounding

Her rich brown eyes always captured him

As though she hid some secret within

Although at him she had always glared

He somehow believed she could have cared

If he had been kind, just for a minute

He doubted, with her, he'd ever have reached his limit

His addiction, his craving, his drug

If he told anyone, though, he'd knew he'd be mugged.

He knew it was wrong, he knew it was bad

But he couldn't stop thinking of what he could have had.

Staring at Weasley, the lucky one

The guy who had actually won

No, not at Quidditch, foolish sport

Nor at Gringotts did he hold court.

But in life, in life he'd come out on top.

Having the girl who made his heart stop.

And she was happy, too, in his arms.

Glad to live on the Weasley farm.

And as he watched them leave, hand in hand

The pain overwhelmed him, so hard to stand

She could have had so much more

Could have had her Prince Charming of lore

Or was he, Weasley, that for her?

Always good, kind, and pure?

She had truly made her choice

And he knew he would never raise his voice

And tell her just what she had missed

For he knew that was an infinite list

And so she would go on, and live her life

And he would be slashed by this imaginary knife

But, was she truly blind?

Or had she simply lost her mind?

Was she honestly completely mad?

Didn't she see what she could have had?

Oh why on earth could she never see?

That he, Draco Malfoy, loved her, Hermione?