AUTHOR'S NOTE: I swear to god, this is the last chapter for tonight. I don't update for forever and then bam-bam-bam-bam-kapow! Instant, catastrophic meltdown, guns blazing, planes flying, World War III, no one has a clue what's going on. And me, sitting in my room, bouncing and giggling madly. Enough with the daydreams. Here is chapter eleven, lucky, lucky eleven. I hope you ejoy. There's a lots of twisties and turnsies and fun stuffs that make you want to take a bottle cap to your head and dance the corkscrew. Fun. Fuckers. I don't know what the hell is wrong with me. Apparently two hours of sleep does more than any energy drink can. Energy drink can! I want one of those...

DISCLAIMER: Well, what do you think? Not mine unless it doesn't belong to J. K. Rowling.

Mistaken Liaisons

Chapter Eleven: Irish Whatsies?

Pansy smiled to herself, stretching her arms over her head and arching her back.

Settling back in her covers, she rolled over on her side and watched Blaise sleep. He was just as god as she remembered from those wonderful Hogwarts days. Pansy had been dying to get in bed with him again for years.

A scowl stole over her face as she remembered the day Blaise had told her he was leaving his home and denying the Dark Mark. Stupid bastard gave up all that money and power…the Zabini fortune had to be three times the size of the Parkinson assets and he had thrown it all away to go live in that rat's nest of an apartment.

And then he'd taken in that ratty little stray. That red-haired menace. She hadn't been worried until she saw them together. It was unbelievable. She had never seen Blaise in that light before and it was horrifying that it was the scrawny little Weasley who got to him. Oh, and how she had gotten to him. She saw it in his eyes every time he bloody mentioned her…some sort of sick devotion and care deeper than anything Pansy ever wanted to see in her life.

It was just disgusting.

She would have worried, but it seemed neither of them were interested in each other as anything but friends. Why? Pansy had no idea. They should have loved each other and sometimes she thought they did love each other. She guessed neither of them really knew the difference between love, lust, and friendship.

Pansy watched Blaise's chest rise with every breath he took. She hoped neither of them ever did figure out the difference. She wanted Blaise for herself. Things were perfect now; Draco was married to the homely little Weasley chit and Blaise was angry at her. With any luck, he would kick her out of his apartment and Pansy would finally have her chance.

She intended to marry him.

Pansy was just settling down to sleep when a house elf appeared by her bedside, shielding its eyes. Pansy was up in a second, grabbing her robe and hastily tying it around herself, all the while kicking the house elf out the door in front of her.

Once outside Pansy's private rooms, she turned on the elf.

"What the hell do you think you're doing in my chambers? I've told you never to disturb me when I'm in there. What makes you think you're even allowed inside?" she hissed, grabbing one of the thing's leathery ears and pinching it viciously with her nails.

The elf whimpered as a drop of blood beaded on its ear. "Lilly is so sorry, Mistress. Lilly is begging Mistress's forgiveness. Lilly is a bad elf for disobeying Mistress, but Mistress says to Lilly if Mr. Blaeden calls, to get Mistress immediately."

Pansy shoved the elf away, where it cowered in the corner. "He's here, then?" she asked, straightening her hair and smoothing out her robes. The elf nodded. "Mr. Blaeden is in drawing room. Lilly is going to go iron her ears, now."

Pansy and the elf left the room. Pansy found the mousy little git waiting for her in the drawing room, his hands clasped and eyes avoiding hers as usual. "Ah, Mistress Parkinson…I trust you have been in good health?" he asked the floor. Pansy rolled her eyes, which latched greedily onto the folder in his hands.

"Yes, yes, have you got what I asked?" she asked, reaching forward and snatching the folder from his hands before he could answer her. Flipping it open, she scanned a few pages. Her eyes lost their light and her face drained of its victorious colour as she read further.

She finally looked up at the man. "What is this?" she demanded, heart racing.

Blaeden's eyes flickered up to hers for a moment and Pansy was astonished to find grim delight in their green depths.

"The truth."

…………………………

Ginny's head was reeling. She collapsed back into her chair, steadying her light head with her hand. Beside her Draco's jaw had yet to pick itself up off the table and Ginny was sure it was going to fall off soon.

Rythmi was laughing still, but she was not longer in such hysterics that she fell off her seat every five seconds.

She finally let out a breath and stopped, though her eyes were glittering.

"Oh, you poor things. You thought you were really married?" she asked, sounding both amused and pitying. Ginny found her voice somewhere on the bottom of her stomach. "Wha-yes, we thought we were married. We had these!" she held up her wedding ring and Draco pulled his off.

Rythmi shook her head, almost sadly. Ginny was panicking now.

"I remember you talking about Irish wedding legends!"

Rythmi was still shaking her head.

"We woke up in the same bed together." Ginny was starting to sound desperate for some kind of sense, so Rythmi decided to surge ahead and put her out of her misery.

"Part of the schedule for that night was this wizard who came in and did wedding ceremonies. We dressed everyone up in wedding gear and put on this whole production with rings and all. It was a kind of couples thing…we got a lot of money out of it, actually. It was surprisingly popular." She stopped, realizing Ginny was looking more confused with every word she said.

"But that's not the point." She said hastily.

Ginny's voice cracked.

"Then what is?"

……………………

"He wasn't a real priest?"

Blaeden was back to staring at inanimate objects, but he seemed to be entertained by Pansy's distress. "Mistress Parkinson, I believe everything you want to know is in that folder."

Pansy didn't notice that he slipped away without the usual formal farewell. She was too busy staring at the parchments in front of her. "He didn't have a licence." She whispered to herself, letting the folder drop to the floor.

"They're not married."

She needed a drink.

…………………….

Ginny stared at Draco. They were both now slightly mollified by a few of Rythmi's choice drinks and the offending witch had disappeared to throw out a few more kids who had gotten into some of her hard liquor.

"So, we're not married after all." Draco said finally, his voice light and amazed.

Ginny let out a laugh and with it, she felt all of the pressure that had been building up in her chest release. Soon she was enveloped in a cloud of wild laughter. Draco watched her laugh with a pang of regret.

Ginny finally came down, chuckling softly. "Oh, Merlin, I needed that." She breathed. Draco nodded and took another sip of his drink. "So, what now?" he asked, setting his glass down. Ginny's face simply wouldn't become serious, no matter how hard she tried. She was just far too elated that things had worked out this way.

"Well, I'm not too sure. I meant to tell you…I got a job offer. But it's out of the country. And since you need somewhere to stay, I thought maybe you'd like to take my place at the apartment. You know, keep the place in order for me so everything's nice and cosy when I visit for the holidays? We could stay friends, if you want." she added hastily. Draco smiled at her and she realized it was the first time he had done so around her. "I think I'd like that." He said slowly, grinning. "You're not that bad…for a Weasley." He said, throwing some money on the table for their drinks and standing. Ginny smirked. "You're not that bad…for a Malfoy." She responded, getting up and following him out of the bar with a wave to Rythmi.

He smirked. "No, I really am."

Ginny slipped her arm into his and they walked down the street in companionable comfort. "Where to?" Draco asked. Ginny sighed and her breath issued a stream of heat into the cold night air. "Well, I suppose we should go back to the apartment and-" she stopped and Draco nearly ran into her.

"Oh my giddy aunt!" she exclaimed, grabbing Draco's arm excitedly. "We have to go back to the apartment immediately and tell Blaise!" she said, jumping up and down as Draco wondered just what Rythmi had put in their drinks his time.

……………………..

Blaise stumbled into the drawing room, one of Pansy's robe belted around his waist. He found her sitting at her tea table, sipping from her cup. He took the seat across from her, noticing her pale face and drawn countenance as he reached for a scone.

"You alright?" he asked disinterestedly, buttering his scone. Pansy nodded slowly. "Yes, I am." She said, her voice normal as she watched the fire in the hearth crackle and burn merrily.

"I suppose I should go back to my apartment soon." Blaise said, taking a swig of tea. Pansy's face turned up to his. "Why?" she asked. Blaise shrugged. "I have to return sometime. I have things to do." That was entirely untrue; he was off from work for two weeks and there really wasn't anything waiting for him at home but empty rooms and the painful reminder that his Ginny was married. He didn't know how he'd ever be able to go back to that apartment. She'd be gone soon enough with Draco, the lucky bastard.

Blaise tried not to imagine being able to spend a lifetime with Ginny.

"When will you be back?" Pansy asked, clutching onto his presence. Blaise sighed. "I don't know, Pansy. This was great and all, but I think I need some time alone." Bullshit; that was the last thing he needed right now. What he needed he couldn't have and that in itself was enough to close himself in his apartment and never come out.

"Oh." Pansy saw the bitterness and regret flicker through his eyes and she pushed aside the doubts she'd had since Blaeden had left her with her choice and she took the plunge, forsaking any sense of morals she may have had.

"Well, you know…I'm sure things will be difficult, what with having a…married…couple in the apartment." She forced out, wondering why this was so difficult. It must be the shock. She saw Blaise tense slightly and she hurried on. "What I'm saying is that if you decide you need someone or even someplace to live, I'm here."

Blaise sighed, standing up. Enough with the self-pity. He had had his chance and he had missed it. She would never be his so there was really no use in agonizing over the fact. "You know what, Pansy?" he said, making up his mind on a sudden whim. "Why not."

Pansy blinked. "Why not?" she repeated, puzzled. Blaise shrugged, putting Ginny out of his mind once and for all with a painful shove that rendered something in his chest lifeless and numb. "Why not. I know how you feel about me and if I marry you, we get the Zabini fortune, so why not? Draco and Ginny are married and I don't particularly feel like living my life alone. How 'bout it, Pansy? How would you like to be Mrs. Zabini?"

Elation like she'd never experienced ripped through Pansy and she leapt to her feet, wrapping her arms around Blaise's neck and grinning with real joy. "Oh, yes, yes, yes!" she cried happily, pressing kisses to his face and ignoring the way he took them in silently and unaffectionately. What did it matter?

Soon he would be hers.

………………………..

Ginny flicked her wand and the lights in the apartment flared to life. As she slid out of her robes, she noticed something odd. The apartment smelled funny. On further inspection, and after finding the place empty, she realized with a start that it didn't smell like Blaise. It didn't have the same welcoming, indescribable smell that said 'home' more than anything the Burrow had ever smelled like.

She met up with Draco in the kitchen, having looked around the place and not found the slightest hint of Blaise's presence. The house felt cold, and Ginny was sure it had nothing to do with the snow falling grimly outside.

Draco was holding a bit of parchment in his hands when Ginny sat down across from him at the dinner table. He handed it over wordlessly. Ginny noticed that though it was undoubtedly Blaise's handwriting, it was as though he'd pulled the quill across the page with more than a little bit of trouble. She recognized it as the result of him in one of his drunken stages.

To whomever gives a shit-

Came home to find the place empty and since I don't feel like sitting here alone I went off for some cheap company. If anyone cares, I'm probably buried deep in some slut somewhere, so don't bother trying to find me. I'll come back when I'm fucking ready.

-The owner of this apartment.

Draco glanced at her as she set the note down. "What does it mean?" he asked. Ginny sighed, feeling a wave of guilt and something heavy wash over her again.

"He's at Pansy's."

…………………..

Pansy was ecstatically writing up wedding invites; this was the moment she'd dreamed of since she was a little girl. Or rather, it was the same events, just a different groom.

Not that the groom mattered.

They never had anything to do with the wedding ceremony. All they had to concentrate on was remembering their lines, not getting drunk, and giving the bride a hell of a good time on the wedding night.

She sealed the last envelope with the Parkinson-Zabini emblem she'd already merged from their family crests. Blaise would love it. Or he would as soon as he saw it; he was still asleep. Pansy sighed, beginning her work on the flower arrangements.

He had been a permanent fixture in her home since the night he proposed, if his business-like agreement could be called such. And for most of that time (one week, two days and counting) he had been asleep for most of the day, only rousing to eat, drink, use the loo, and occasionally screw around with a most willing Pansy.

Pansy thought it odd that he still hadn't gone back to his apartment, but she said nothing. She had the feeling Blaise was all too much still in love with his menace of a roommate that Pansy had worked for so long on trying to marry off so she could have Blaise to herself. And now she did, and she certainly wasn't going to send him back to his apartment or his damnable roommate.

His damnable roommate who had sent twelve owls asking where Blaise was and why he hadn't come home, and had even shown up in Pansy's drawing room one day. Pansy had burnt the letters, sent the girl away, and punished the stupid house elf who had let her in.

She wasn't planning on telling Weasley or Malfoy about her wedding plans. She intended to have a luxurious wedding, but a quick one; she didn't want the news of Malfoy and Weasley's non-marriage getting to Blaise's ears.

Timing was of the essence now. She had to marry Blaise before he found out his real love was available. Nothing was going to stand in her way.

Within another week she would be Pansy Zabini.

…………………………………

Draco yawned as he stretched, arching his back into the soft pillow placed there between him and the rough sofa. He promptly fell off as his body realized the couch was too narrow for him to be squirming about on.

Getting to his feet, Draco went into the kitchen and waved his wand at the coffee pot, which began to brew. This was part of a routine that he'd developed over the past ten days, the first of which had been interesting in the fact that Draco was often being chased around the apartment by things Blaise and Ginny had enchanted to attack one another in a part of their devious games and (as far as Draco was concerned after sporting a few good bruises and broken bones) somewhat twisted forms of entertainment.

Now that he wasn't prohibited from movement by flying, biting teabags, Draco continued his rounds. He went to the back of the apartment and opened the door to Blaise's room. He sighed, taking in the empty, made-up bed. Shaking his head softly, he made his way over to Ginny's room, still smirking as he did every time he saw the large painting hanging on the door which covered the splintered damage he had done a while back.

Ignoring the 'Fuck Off Unless You Fancy Being a Eunuch' lettering painted there, he opened the door silently. Ginny was sprawled out on the mattress, one body-length pillow parallel to her body. Her long limbs were curled around it, clutching it to her desperately and her face was pale and thin, even in sleep.

He closed the door with a sigh and went back to the coffee, pouring himself some.

It was the tenth day Blaise had been gone. Ginny had been frantic with worry the first few days. But then she got a letter from Pansy Parkinson telling her Blaise didn't want to see her right now. She hadn't left her bedroom since.

Draco had been worried at first, but now he was just plain pissed off at Blaise. Mostly because he did know Ginny Weasley and he knew just how much pain it took to break someone as strong as she was. And every time he looked at her, he saw a broken woman. Her eyes were dull and her body languid. It seemed as though she hadn't ceased crying for those seven days.

Draco was beginning to sort a few things out and it was killing him that Ginny hadn't spoken a word in five days. She only left her room to eat half-heartedly or use the loo.

Therefore Draco appropriately dropped the coffee pot when soft thudding announced the arrival of her slippers and with it, her. It was too early for her to be up, Draco thought as he repaired the mug. Ginny sighed, squaring her shoulders resolutely. Her face was dry and it seemed she had cried herself out.

"Draco?" she asked, her voice hoarse. He came over and sat down next to her. "Does it hurt you this much?" she asked in a voice that was barely above a whisper. Draco sighed and had to shake his head 'no'.

Ginny let out a breath. "I didn't think so." She said wearily. Draco frowned and held out some coffee for her. She took it gratefully. "I'mjust his friend, Ginny." Draco said suddenly, leaving the rest unspoken. She glanced up at him with eyes that burned. "And what am I, Draco?" she asked, her voice breaking as she sought the answer in him that she had been asking herself for the past few days, ever since she felt that her heart had broken.

"What do you feel?" he asked, showing more care than Ginny had thought possible. "I don't know. He's my best friend. I don't know why, but we fit. Life seemed alright when it was with him. We matched. I can't stand the fact that he hates me. It hurts too much to even begin to think about it. I don't want him with Pansy or anyone else. He's my best friend. He understands me. He should be here…I'm supposed to be the one he goes to; I'm his best friend. But…" she paused, faltering "…but if he's just my best friend, why does it hurt so much…here?" she asked, fisting a hand over her heart.

Draco took a deep gulp from his mug. When he finally set it down, his face was grave. "I don't know. I'm no expert on matters of the heart. I never really believed it until some crazy witch came into my life and changed it forever. Don't-don't say anything." He said as she opened her mouth. He plunged ahead. "But I do know theories. And from everything I've learned in the past few weeks from you…what you just described…" he shook his head "…that isn't friendship, not even the strongest kind. It's something more."

Ginny looked down at her hands. "Then why now? Why didn't I ever realize? Why was it so hard to imagine until now?" she asked, crying once more and refreshing Draco's belief that women were built with tear ducts.

"I don't know. I don't think you ever actually considered it." He said. It made sense to him. Ginny let out a strangled scream. "So I've been in love for three years and just didn't know it? How can that be possible? When you're in love, you know it. You can feel it." She ranted, realizing that she honestly didn't know what she was talking about. She had never been in love before. All she had to go on were those trashy romance novels Hermione insisted on sending her every Christmas, perhaps in hopes that Ginny would one day just magic one of the heroes out of the book and into her apartment. But Ginny didn't know love.

"Maybe you did feel it." Draco said slowly, pulling her out of her stupor. "Maybe you mistook it for something else because you thought 'it' would feel different somehow. Maybe you thought you and Blaise were too perfect for 'it'. You never did think love was all it was cracked up to be, did you?" he asked.

Ginny scoffed. "Of course not, you git, what do you think I am, some sort of closet romantic?" Draco smirked as he saw the old Ginny rising to the surface. "Maybe that's the problem. You made love out to be something dirtier and baser and less…"

"…idealistically fairy-tale, happy-ending, romance-novel trash?" Ginny finished for him with a bitter bite in her voice.

Draco sighed. "Exactly. You never though it could be perfect, did you?"

Ginny was silent for a very long time.

"I am such an idiot." She finally breathed.

"Well, you are a Weasley, after all…"

Ginny silenced him with a blow to the gut he never saw coming.