Disclaimer: Harry Potter does not belong to me; all I do is play with the characters.

Story of a Blue Cake

Histoire d'un Gâteau Bleu

Pansy twirled across the room with a smile on her face, waving her hand at the imaginary people in front of her, all sporting looks of utter admiration at the witch. The magnificent three layered, extremely pink cake stood grandiosely in the middle of the ballroom next to her proud parents. The polished marble floor reflected the enchanted candles and the herd of house elves who held glasses of sparkling champagne to offer.

"What a terrific ceremony" - Was heard all across the Parkinson land, as guests whispered amazed, each one trying to congratulate her personally, pushing over one another to get a better view of the beautiful bride in the long silky turquoise dress. Of course, in her childhood dream - the one she had been having since she was three years old - the groom was blond and emanated an aura of aristocracy. And was, in every single way, the complete opposite of the bored, freckled faced man who sat holding his head in his hand, half drooling on the wooden stool.

"Ronald!"

"What? What?" He sat up quickly, stumbling on his own feet as he looked at the angry raven haired witch wrapped in a blue, puffy, furry...thing. "What's wrong?" The screeching banshee-like sound coming from his soon to be wife's mouth brought him to the conclusion that he should have stayed quiet.

All he could see were waves of blue, exasperated hands around the air and a annoyed voice that held silent death threats in every word "Could you avoid falling asleep every five minutes? I am trying to choose a dress for our wedding!"

"Hone-"

"Don't 'honey' me. That didn't work when I was fifteen, and won't work now!"

Confused, Ron, who had called her "honey" for the past four years, brought a smile to his lips and tried to calm her down. She was just in one of those moods. "Pansy, sorry. But, you know...I mean, we still have a month until the-"

"One month! Ah! Have you ever organized a wedding Ron? We need to send out invitations, choose a cake, organize the seats and more importantly: make me look gorgeous!"

"You are gorgeous." He sighed, hoping that would do it.

"I know well enough I am gorgeous, I am not one of your ex-airhead-conquests who needed reassurance every ten seconds. But this isn't a dinner at the Burrow. We will be up against a crowd of hungry, gossip hunting, perfectionists..."

"I already said-"

"We are inviting them! I am not being trampled across Witch Weekly in an issue of the 'The Downfall', I refuse to do so. I will not be ridiculed. I will have a grand wedding, and I will invite all my puerile, rash, obtuse cousins to prove that I am still better than them. By far!"

Ron opened his mouth as to say that she didn't need to prove anything, but one look into her deep black eyes was enough to stop him. The best thing to do was smile until it hurt while hoping Pansy would calm down . . . eventually.

Smiling, however, was a hard thing to do, for when the woman in front of him closed her eyes and started shaking her hands while making cliquish sounds, his lips threatened to open. And laughing was not a good thing to do - not now. Luckily his fiancé's frown dissipated and she seemed to be in a excellent mood again, smiling and twirling close to him gesturing at the puffy thing the wore.

"So, now that all is settled. What do you think of the dress?"

Argh! He knew it! It was the fifth time she had tried on a dress that morning, every one more complex and time consuming to change into. And every time she asked his opinion no matter if he said '"You look beautiful" or "Stunning" everything left her with a sour expression, making her huff in desperation and scream at the squinting elderly woman to get her something better. And to be honest, every time she started to look more and more like a peacock.

"Hum . . . it's blue."

"I thought that was obvious. Well, what do you think of it: Too Victorian, perhaps? Yes, it is, isn't it? I should definitely add a longer tail; I look like a peasant wearing this. Madam Beatr-"

"No. It's fine."

"Fine? It's my wedding dress. It can't be fine, it must be perfect."

At times he wondered why Pansy had asked him to come. Why didn't she ask one of her friends? Oh, right, they were scared of her. And, when she grabbed his collar eyeing him with desperation and a quiet glint of madness, he understood their fear.

"I am tired of hearing Aunty Cissa talk about that pesky, futile, perfect wedding your sister and Draco had. I am tired of hearing my mother talk about it too; I see the way she looks at me. My wedding has to be better."

"You know, Mum could make you the wedding dress like she did for Ginny and Mione . . ."

"Oh, yes, a white muggle wedding dress is exactly what I hope for." - Pansy's retort dripped with sarcasm - "What more? Believing the idiotic superstition that the groom shouldn't see the bride in her wedding dress? I will marry in turquoise... teal at the least. Definitely, not white!"

"Why blue? We have been searching for the dress for days and no one has the bloody 'perfect' dress for you!"

"Bleu as the French say is the colour of royalty, purity and knowledge. It also represents optimism - something I hope for my wedding, though with your impatience and lack of intelligence I doubt I will achieve that. Of course, if you were a real Pureblood you would know this-"

"Maybe I don't want to be a Pureblood! I am sick and tired of your demands for the wedding: 'I need this, we must do that . . .'" Ron replied angrily moving his hands dramatically as if they were mad puppets.

"Really? Well if you would accept us getting a wedding planner like I suggested-"

"We don't have the money!"

"You, don't have the money. I already told you I would pay for it!"

"I will not depend on you."

"Depend on Potter for all I care. I want-"

"Do I look like a kept witch?" Ron spat at her, his cheeks flaming.

"Well, I never thought you would take it that way," She waved her hand dismissively ignoring his anger, "But I just want to be able to pay for my wedding. I want to be able to enjoy being a bride to be, without the stress and I want to have a dress that doesn't look like a toddler's drawing. I want it taylor made by Madam Henrietta! I want to get married in Paris and I want to have a three layer Lemon and Chocolate cake by the grand chef Le Mort-"

"Bla, bla, bla!" Ron interrupted in a scratching voice that in no way resembled Pansy's. "All you say is 'want, want, want'. What about what I want?"

"I don't care about what you want!"

"Well, maybe I don't want to marry you." The cold echo of those words haunted Pansy as Ron stepped out of the dressing room, leaving her to stare at the blank space now before her. The blank space, soon replaced by Madam Beatrice. "Ez, Miss okay?

"Yes." But instead of walking out of the door chin-up after a fight like she always did, she fell to the ground crying hysterically, pushing and pulling at the now offensive dress.

xxx

"So, let me see, Pansy said she wanted the perfect wedding. And you said you wanted to pay for it?" The red-haired witch inquired as she looked at her older brother who surprisingly (or not at all) had come to visit her at the manor, for pre-marital advice.

"Yes. But it's impossible; she bloody wants a million layer cake with roast beef and shrimp as the flavours and a blue dress."

"Blue is a traditional colour among us Purebloods, as you would know if you had-" The characteristic drawl of Draco came from across the room, stopping as soon as he met his wife's fiery eyes.

"I don't care-" Ron started to yell, stopping when Ginny's hand closed his mouth as she looked reprovingly at him. Sometimes, she wondered what Draco's ex-girlfriend had ever seen in Ron. "Anyway, so basically, you argued over who paid the bill of the wedding? How macho of you."

"Uh?"

Rolling her eyes at the hopelessness that was her brother, Ginny cleared her voice and proceeded to explain why he was acting like a prat.

"Pansy was brought up like a Pureblood. She grew up dreaming of a dazzling wedding, a social occasion that everyone was invited to. For her, a wedding is more than getting tied up with the one she loves. It's a show. The show of her life, one could say. And your stubbornness is in the middle of it."

"So what do you expect me to? Let her pay for it?"

"Yes."

"That's – it's just. Argh, and what about all the fancy people she wants to invite? What will mum say?" Mumbled Ron, trying to find a reason as to why she was wrong.

"Last time I looked you weren't marrying mother. And, I also let Narcissa pay for my wedding-"

"But you're a girl!" He exclaimed loudly, just to receive a whack on the head by his sister.

"Do you love Pansy?"

"Yes." He confessed without the slightest doubt. As much as the snobbish girl annoyed him to no end, her smile, well… it was amazing. And her posh language amused him. She was his opposite; the frustrating person who had something against everything he did yet supported him when it mattered the most.

"Do you want to marry her?"

"Yes. Hell, yes, I want to spend the rest of my life with her."

"So, tell her she can have the wedding she wants. I doubt you care much on how it ends up being - you would be happy even if she turned up naked at the reception." At this Ron's cheeks turned a very bright pink, amusing Ginny. "And mother will have to learn to live with it."

"Excellent. Now that you settled that your fiancé will pay for your wedding, I can show you how to play wizard chess like a man." Draco said to stop Ron from thinking too much about Ginny's rant and invent a reason to upset Pansy. As much as their sibling fights amused him, he did not want a visit from his best friend in the morning to complain about Ron. As predicted Weasley, looked at him saying: "As if!", moving to the chess set to prove him wrong. It was just too easy.

xxx

Three games of wizard chess later - two of which Ron had won - an erratic knock on the study room door interrupted the silence, making Ginny get up from the sofa to open it and find a soaking wet Pansy.

"Narcissa told me your brother was here. . ." Setting her eyes on the object of her search Pansy moved over to Ron hugging him and sobbing apologies, wetting his shoulder with her tears and drenched clothes. Something that he ignored, simply hugging her back. If there was something he hated, it was seeing his confident girlfriend crying.

"I am sorry. I was being stupid. I want to marry you, I don't care about the wedding - for all I care it can be outside the Burrow in a cheap, infected, muddy tent."

"I was exaggerating. I want to marry you. Even, if you annoy the hell out of me." The last sentence earned him a playful, smack by Pansy who was now smiling trough the tears.

"So, you still love me?" She asked, wrapping her hands around his neck, to which he answered by coming closer and whispering "I am crazy for you," before capturing her lips in a scorching kiss. He then proceeded to kiss the tears from her cheeks, who had no purpose to be there, making her laugh.

"You know, if you hadn't suggested marrying at the Burrow I was also going to give up the whole me paying thing and let you have it as you wanted."

"Really?" She said giggling against her will, as he kissed her ear lobe. "Yes, yes I would do it. . ." Ron answered more interested in the task he had currently at hand. He felt Pansy grin at his answer, and then, to his displeasure, pull him away.

"Perfect. I will make an appointment with Madam Henrietta immediately!"

He was left startled in the middle of the lounge as Pansy moved excitedly to the fireplace to floo someone. He searched for Ginny, to ask her what to do. But apparently she and Malfoy had retired from the room long ago. The little buggers! He would, after all have a wedding in blue.

xxx

20th June, 2005

WITCH WEEKLY

Wedding of the year?

The 18th of June brought with it the wedding of the famous Tutshill Tornados Quidditch player, Ron Weasley, to the infamous socialite and lawyer Pansy Parkinson. It occurred at dusk, beneath the Eiffel Tower with a fantastic display of pyrotechnics, (sponsored by WWW - Weasley Wizarding Wheezes) with the cutting of the six layer chocolate cake. The bride looked stunning in a white dress with a sapphire bow, holding a lovely bouquet of blue roses. Many celebrities were present, Harry Potter and the international recently retired Quidditch star Oliver Wood amongst the most polemic. Everyone was well humoured and it was a fantastic party – the only incident being when the groom's family decided to start a pick-up game at midnight.

In the end, however, this celebration served as a proof that the Parkinsons can still make headlines as 'Wedding of the year', competing with the Malfoys one that took place last November on the Malfoy Estate. (Turn to page 22 for wedding pictures and details on how to have the perfect wedding).

Your news reporter on the spot,

Hannah Abbot.

A/N : This story has been re-uploaded - 21 June, 2010 - after it was submitted to editing. Thank you to the lovely Haz (Ha'niqua) , for enduring the pain of being my Beta. ;)

It was a answer to challenge tag back at the D/G forum.

Challenge # 8

Pairing: Pansy/Ron

Must Include: A fight about money, and include (or some variation of): 'Do I look like a kept witch?" Ron spat at her, his cheeks flaming.'

I hope I did it justice. :)

Review, s'il vous plâit