Cause, darling, it was good never looking down.

And right there where we stood was holy ground

- Taylor Swift, Holy Ground

She was nervous - nerve-wrecking, sweating-palms, nail-biting - nervous. He could see it in her eyes, the way they kept wandering around, never settling on a single object for an extended period of time. He could see it in her hand movements, the way she rubbed her palms against the fabric of her dress, unsure, uncomfortable.

Granger was standing next to her, as the maid of honour. It was almost comical that she had decided to make Granger her maid of honour, when it had been Granger with whom Potter had cheated on her, Draco thought to himself.

He still remembered the day he found her, drunk, staggering into the little pub down the abandoned road in Diagon Alley. He and Goyle had taken refuge there, after the war, spending many nights getting sloshed, and it was one of the few places where people no longer stared at him.

He had been shocked, however, to see her there.

"Weasley?" he had said, more to himself than to her, recognizing the ginger red hair almost instantly.

"Huh? Who is it? Harrrry?" she'd slurred, eyes half-open, barely conscious.

"What's wrong with you, Weasley?" he'd asked, astonished. What was she doing here, anyways?

"Who is it?" she'd tried to open her eyes but to no avail. Head dropped, she had lain on the bar as Goyle had exchanged worried glances with him.

"What are we supposed to do?" Goyle had asked him, tensed. They'd been threading on thin ice since the war's end, and anything suspicious could get them in a lot of unwanted trouble."We don't even know where she lives."

"She isn't our responsibility," Draco had spat, angry. Why should he take care of the little blood traitor if she decided to get drunk off her arse?

"Harry? Go away! I don't - I don't - oh my god, I'm so drunk!" She tried getting her head up, but it was useless.

"What the fuck happened anyways, Weasley?" Draco had asked her, settling himself in his usual seat at the bar. "One bottle of firewhiskey, please."

"Harry - is a bastard," Weasley had spat as the barman passed her a tall glass of water. She gulped it and Draco wasn't surprised when half of the water spilled on her dress instead.

"Easy, miss," the barman had told her as he'd gone to fetch what Draco assumed was another glass of water for her.

"He, he - cheated on me!" she'd exclaimed and Draco had been surprised to see tears rolling down her cheeks, "He - Hermione - I thought she was my best friend!" She was openly crying now, a river running down her cheeks.

"Potter cheated on you with Granger?" he'd asked, appalled. Wasn't Potter supposed to be a saint?

She'd howled in reply, and he'd patted her back uncomfortably. He had never been good at dealing with crying women, in all honesty.

"Yes," she'd hiccupped. "I found them in our bed," she had continued as she'd downed the entire glass of water.

"Well, I was never too fond of either of them - so I can safely say he is a git and she is a whore," he'd replied in a feeble attempt to console her.

And that was how they'd became friends, somewhat - after all, wasn't the enemy of his enemy supposed to be his friend?

That, however, still didn't prepare him for Ginny apparating to his flat the next day, a bottle of firewhiskey in her hand.

"How did you know where I live?" he'd asked her as he'd removed his heavy winter cloak.

"I have my sources." She'd smirked then, and he'd almost - almost laughed. It was appalling, to see her sitting there, on his tabletop, legs crossed (she had a habit of sitting on tabletops, he later discovered) as though she did this everyday.

"Why did you decide to come here, anyways?"

"Malfoy, has anyone told you, you ask too many questions? I wanted to drink, you like to drink - why not?" She'd conjured two glasses with the tip of her wand while he had stared.

"Erm, because you're a blood traitor and I'm a Death Eater scum?"

"And that was ages ago, Malfoy - be a little grown up and come, have a drink with me." She'd smiled at him and he hadn't dared to mention that her statement implied far too many things.

"Oh, don't give me that look – I know what dirty thoughts you're having, you little piece of shit."

Laughing, he'd made his way over to his couch, taking the wine glass from her hand and downing it. "I like to drink my whiskey quickly, Weasley," he'd smirked at her and she'd laughed.

And that was how they'd ended up becoming more then friends - she was funny, he was witty, she was beautiful, he was deliciously good-looking - and really, there was no reason why he wouldn't bang a beautiful girl in his flat.

And it was perfect - for a few days, weeks, months - until Potter had returned.

"Harry, he apologized to me," she'd told him, sipping at her glass of butterbeer.

"I thought Potter has been doing that for days now?"

"Yeah, he has - but he also asked me yesterday to marry him," she'd retorted, carefully looking at his face for signs of a reaction.

"Jumping from apologizing to marriage, all in a day? Potter is quick." He'd tried to smirk indifferently, which only had made her scowl at him.

"He is but you sure aren't," she'd spat at him. "We have been dating for months, Malfoy! You could at least show some sort of affection - another man just proposed to your girlfriend and all you can do is sit there and smirk!"

"What do you expect me to do, Weasley? Go there and break his nose? For what? Proposing to a girl who refuses to acknowledge me as her boyfriend in public?" He'd shot back at her, and then they'd quarrelled, fighting in public instead of just bickering.

"Don't you dare put this all on me, Malfoy, don't you dare! It was a mutual decision, you agreed - " Her cheeks had flushed with color. "Oh forget it! It's useless - I knew this would never work, I don't even know why I bothered -" She'd started collecting her things, but he'd held her hand, hard.

"Because Saint Potter cheated on you and you came running into my bed," he'd told her with venom in his tone, and she'd looked at him angrily.

"I'm done with you, Malfoy, I'm done with you. It's over between us."

And before he could blink, she was gone forever.

He knew he should have chased after her - tried to stop her, attempted to win her over again, but he'd let it be. He had been angry, too, angry for feelings he hadn't wanted to acknowledge, angry at Potter for always ruining things, and angry at her, for not coming back.

He'd thought she would come back – in a few days, weeks – as she always did, huffing, puffing. But she hadn't. Instead she'd sent him an invitation card, with his name scrawled on the back in her bad, unreadable handwriting.

Draco Lucius Malfoy

"If any man can show why they may not lawfully be joined together, let him speak now, or else hereafter forever hold his peace,"

She looked up, dismayed, her eyes settled on the spot where he stood. It was as if she was waiting for something, anything -

"Wait!" he called out, throwing off his Invisibility Cloak and walking towards the alter. "They shouldn't get married," he said nervously.

"What reason do you have -" the minister began, but before he could finish his sentence, several voices rose at once.

"You, son of a git - how dare you come and disrupt my sister's wedding!"


"You bastard, what are you doing here?"

"Who is this young man?"

"Shut up, everyone!" Ginny screamed loudly and clearly, and everyone turned to look in her direction. She, however, focused on him and him alone. "Why shouldn't I get married to Harry, Draco?" she asked, her brown eyes piercing his dark, grey ones.

"Because I love you," he told her, honestly and bluntly, "I love you, Ginny Weasley, and I was an idiot to let you go. You're kind, funny, beautiful -"

With tears rolling down her eyes, she ran towards him, her white gown forming a canopy behind her, "You're an idiot," she told him, cupping his face gently, her fingertips tracing the edges of his beard. "But I love you, too, Draco Malfoy - I love you, too."

This was written for the Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition, xPerfectlyImperfect's Perfectly Challenging Competition (Draco/Ginny, Forever, Gentle, "Don't give me that look!", OTP Boot Camp (Prompt: Indifference), Song Fic Boot Camp (Prompt: Harry), All Sorts Of Love Competition, The Greenhouses Competition (Category: Almond) and The Legendary Gods and Goddesses Competition (Category: Apollo) :)

The end is inspired by the lyrics, "How can I love when I'm afraid to fall, but watching you stand alone? All of my doubt, suddenly goes away somehow ," – "Thousand Years" - Christina Perri.

This would have been impossible without my beta, Mew and my teammates, Teddy and Anna who encouraged me to complete this. Inspite of that, this was incredibly hard to write - narrative writing isn't something I'm good at and I really struggled with this piece. I still don't think I'm very happy with it but I'm glad to be done and I would love to receive your feedback :)