AUTHOR'S NOTE: Well, I'm up late again. Here's chapter 12. I really hated it so I had to revise it, and guess what? I still hate it. So, I really hope you like it a shitload more than I do, or else I'm about to waste a lousy ten minutes of your life. But, no one really reads these things anyway, so no one will know that. In fact, I could say just about anything I wanted to...hmm...you rotten little fuckers can rot on a rotisserie stick over the flaming spit-fire of eternal damnation for all eternity. Eat hedgehog lard, you scheming lazy fuck-tards. If you must visit, please do take a pogo stick to hell and sodomize ol' Lucifer for me. Little bugger's always got a stick up his arse anyway...see you in hell, hugs and kisses, XOXO, I hope you all get shat on by a flaming guinea pig wearing your great-ant's knickers and don't be offended, I'm just a giant pissant who likes raining trouble.

Looks like there's a storm ahead.

DISCLAIMER: I did it. That's right. I took the cookie from the cookie jar. Now shove it up your arse, because I'm tired of explaining that I'm not J. K. Rowling, although I did piece together this marvelous story from ferret shit and badger snot. You could tell, couldn't you? The craftsmanship is absolutely appalling. Ejoy.

Mistaken Liaisons

Chapter Twelve: Sarcasm and a Fast-Paced Frenzy

Blaise stared into the pillow he'd been semi-consciously trying to smother himself with for the past five minutes somewhat unsuccessfully. He rolled over on his back and stared up at the ceiling he'd been stuck staring at for a good ten days or so.

He hurt.

Ten days was long enough for his heart to break twenty times over and to be sick with his own sentinmentality another twenty times over and yet, he knew somehow, that no matter how much he ignored it, he would never be rid of it. That ringing, slow, cloying, choking, suffocating, dull and agonizing ache that had settled in his chest.

It hurt more than he let on. There was the added pain still sharp in his chest that Ginny and Draco (mostly just Ginny, though) were too wrapped up in each other to even care he hadn't come home in so long. She didn't even try to see him or let him know if she was coming to the wedding. He would have loved to have had her as his best man, for fun's sake. On the other hand, he was rather glad. He would never be able to marry Pansy with Ginny handing him his rings.

He kept playing his life with her over and over in his head. Every moment where he should have known he was head-over-heels for her, but for some fucked-up reason just hadn't. Love was supposed to ruin things and here it was doing it once again.

He kept remembering the way things had been and the way they would never be again. He kept remembering that special connection…that bond that made him fit to Ginny and her to him…and the regret that surfaced every time at the recollection that he'd had that glimpse of pure, unrestrained rapture and he had turned his back blindly on it. The number of women he'd had in his bed in his apartment when the only woman for him was right down the hall, often banging on the walls for him to shut the hell up.

Fondness gave way to sharp pain as nostalgia took its hold and ripped him totally to shreds. He wanted her so bad. He just wanted a chance. To be able to go back in time and change things. He just wanted to tell her how he felt…back before she had gotten married to Malfoy.

That was what hurt the most, aside from the knowledge that things would never be the same; the realization that he had the opportunities and had never taken them.

Rolling over on his side, he willed himself to slip back into sleep where things were perfect and where the pain he felt in his waking hours couldn't follow.

……………………

Ginny was staring morosely out the window. It was the fifteenth day since Blaise had left and she was forced to come to the conclusion that Blaise hated her, a conclusion that bit into her like nothing else could. That pain lead to a second conclusion.

She loved him.

But it wasn't enough. He didn't want to see her again. He was living with Pansy, for Christ's sake, that was enough to know that things were desperate. He couldn't stand Pansy and only used her in extreme emergencies when he was too drunk to charm someone else. Or broke. Ginny had sent a final letter stating that she was leaving the country and that she and Draco weren't going to really be married and that she needed to tell him something badly and that she was so sorry and that she missed him and that if he didn't respond, there was a great possibility that they might never see each other again.

It was the hardest letter she'd ever written and she put so much emotion into it that after she'd sent it off she felt physically drained. She was just about to sigh and get up to go start on her packing for her job again when a loud Apparation pop echoed through the kitchen.

Draco whirled around, seeking her. When he did, his face was flushed and a look of panic was on it. "Quick, we have to go; we have to go now!" he said, tugging at her arm urgently. Ginny barely had time to even notice the lack of appropriate clothing about her persona before Draco had Apparated them both away with a pop.

…………………..

"Draco, what the fuck are we doing out in broad daylight? I'm in my knickers!"

Draco took a moment to glance down at Ginny, who was not wearing her knickers, but rather Blaise's boxers...and a tight tee with the words 'These Girls Are Great' across her breasts advertising Ginny's favourite all-women Quidditch team.

"You'll thank me eventually." He said, glancing around him. Ginny followed his gaze, unable to possibly imagine how she'd ever refrain from killing Draco, much less being grateful to him. They were on a bright, sunny lane where the sun was shining bright enough to dispel the majority of the wintery cold seeping into their skin.

"You'd better not have dragged me out in my knickers to go sight-seeing in the countryside." Ginny glared, unrolling her boxers self-consciously.

"This way." Draco said abruptly, grabbing Ginny's arm and dragging her towards a large white mansion just up the lane. "Draco, what's going on?" she asked, stumbling over a rock. Draco was panting. "I was at my last job interview…it didn't go so well after I spilled coffee on the woman…but anyway, I saw Millicent Bullstrode there. She had on this gaudy dress and I asked her why she was wearing a fancy dress, much less a dress in the first place," he said as they neared the mansion.

The buzz of conversation lifted the closer they got and Ginny could just make out a large majority of people amassed by the lake just beside the mansion.

"Well?" Ginny gasped as they made their way through the gates and started up the long lane towards the gathering. She was beginning to lag and promised herself from now on it was more Quidditch and less fucking, bloody pancakes.

Draco tugged on her arm. "Fuck, Draco, what's the rush?" she panted. Draco just pulled her along faster. "Ginny, right about now Blaise is preparing to say his wedding vows to someone he doesn't love!" Ginny would have collapsed right there if Draco hadn't been pulling her along like a kite. "What!" she gasped, picking up the pace and speeding ahead of Draco with newfound strength.

"Blaise is going to marry Pansy Parkinson in about four minutes if we don't get there to stop it."

"Oh, shit! For fuck's sake, what the hell are you doing jogging about?"

"Wha-?"

"PICK UP THOSE RUDDY KNEES MALFOY, WE'VE GOT A WEDDING TO CRASH!"