"Do you, Astoria Greengrass, take Draco Lucius Malfoy..."

Fuming with rage and more than a little heartbroken, Harry sat on a bench at the back of the chapel, in a deep green suit that Hermione said flattered his eyes and his hair somewhat tamed. If he was going to his own funeral, he thought, he might as well do it stylishly...

Astoria was beautiful. Of course, that was expected for a future Malfoy wasn't it? Tall and elegant and beautiful and able to bear children. She crossed off all things on the list, and Harry couldn't even do one. She was especially beautiful today, in her long white dress with rose patterns on it and a veil that trailed behind her like a line of angels. Perfect, in short. Harry squeezed his eyes shut and prayed for it to all be over soon.

"I do."

Merlin, even her voice was beautiful. Her eyes were bright and blue and Harry could tell she meant it. She would have him and hold him, love him and cherish him, in sickness and in health, for richer, for poorer, for better, for worse, until death did them oart. He could feel his heart cracking but he forced himself to sit through it. So he could understand what his cowardice had cost him.

"Do you, Draco Lucius Malfoy, take Astoria Greengrass..."

Like his bride, Draco Malfoy was stunning. He wore a dark grey suit and his hair was styled so it was swept back and out of the way of those striking, arresting mercury irises that seemed to stop Harry's breath, a few strands of hair falling over them like a pale frame.

"I..."

A murmur went through the chapel, and Harry leant forward, interest spiking. Was he hesitating?

Draco seemed to take a breath. "I..."

Astoria looked stricken, the smile slipping from her face instantly. At the front row, Harry could see Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy turn to each other and start whispering worriedly. Lucius looked livid.

"Well? Do you?" the priest asked, getting impatient.

Draco looked across the room, and his eyes met Harry's.

"I don't."

Everyone gasped, and Harry's heart thudded in his chest. The bride had gone sickly pale, swaying slightly on the spot.

"Dear heavens, child, whatever do you mean?" The priest asked, looking equally horrified.

"I don't want to marry her," Malfoy said, still looking at Harry. "Because I'm in love with Harry Potter."

Astoria fainted. Lucius Malfoy rose from his seat looking murderous. Several heads turned to look at Harry, narrowing their eyes as if he'd done something wrong.

"I'm gay, Father!" Malfoy declared. "And I'm tired of hiding it!"

"Someone... someone get the bride some water!" The priest called looking delirious. "I'm... going to sit down."

Whispers and talk broke out, with people rolling their eyes and snickering in the direction of the bride and groom. Or, ex-bride and groom.

"You love me?" Harry asked, standing up. He wasn't sure if he was dreaming or not.

"Yes!" Malfoy said proudly. "Ever since the day I shook your hand in that train compartment!"

Wait a minute...

They never did shake hands in the train compartment.

A sickening feeling engulfed him, and, feeling as if he was rising out of water, Harry jolted awake.

He had fallen asleep in the blasted chapel, Astoria was still standing and looking magnificent, her face filled with colour. Malfoy was smiling at her with warmth. It had all been a dream, he realised with a punch in the gut.

When Malfoy said, "I do." Harry merely closed his eyes and clapped along with the rest of them like a performing seal, trying to keep the tears at bay.