AUTHOR'S NOTE: Sorry it's so short, but what can I say? The ending had to end here. There's still more chapters ahead, but who knows where it will go. As for the wedding ceremony, it does take place and I know I've mixed the priest's speech up a bit, so deal with it. And for all of you out there who actually read last chapter's author's note and took offense, you can go right ahead and take it to heart, because no one should ever, under any circumstances, take me seriously. It's a health hazard. Loosen up, for fuck's sake. I do this partially becaue I feel like it, partially because some shrink is just waiting to slap 'anger misplacement issues' on my forehead, and partially because it's fun as hell being frank and yet lying through your teeth. Try it some day and don't take life so seriously. If I say fuck off, it's coming from the bottom of my heart with the deepest love. XOXO.
DISCLAIMER: Not mine if it belongs to J. K. Rowling. Anomaly? I think not. Try common sense.
Mistaken Liaisons
Chapter Thirteen: No Such Luck and a Wedding
or
Funny How Often Those Two Run Hand in Hand Through the Meadow of Life
Blaise tucked the small pin of flowers into his robes' breast pocket. He was astonished how fast the days had gone. Ginny seemed so far away now, and yet it still hurt every time he thought about her.
He tried not to think about her.
He watched as his best man, Theodore Nott, fumbled around for the rings before finding the box in his pocket. He glanced out over the people congregated in white folding chairs on the lakeside lawn of the Parkinson's country estate. Not a sign of red hair.
He sighed one last time and drove all thoughts of her from his head with such intensity that he thought he might actually cry.
He nearly did cry as a sombre, melodic tune drifted to his ears that he recognized as the bridal march. So they were starting a few minutes early. It didn't particularly matter to Blaise, but he'd have liked a few more minutes of freedom. A few more minutes deluding himself that things could still change.
Down the white carpet rolled down between the chairs came two young children with black hair, both dressed in pink. Blaise hated pink. And he hated the stupid carnation-petals they were scattering all over the place. Behind them came the maid of honour, Millicent Bullstrode, somewhat decent-looking if it weren't for the unspeakably ugly dress she was wearing. A pasty pale pink colour, it was frilly and slinky and poofy all in the wrong places.
Blaise decided it would be better if he didn't watch the rest of the bridesmaids. He only glanced up as the crowd let out a collective sigh. Down the aisle came Pansy Parkinson on the arm of her father.
Pansy actually looked radiantly beautiful and freely happy for one of the few times Blaise had ever seen. Her lovely blonde hair was cascading around her bare shoulders that the sleeveless wedding dress-robes bared to the world. The full white skirt trailed for a long time behind her.
Blaise barely noticed when Pansy took her place next to him and they kneeled before the priest at the altar. "Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today…" Blaise tuned out the old man's voice. Pansy had been so odd in choosing a minister, insisting that the man prove himself with credentials and the like. Odd.
He felt his thoughts slide back in Ginny's direction, so he snapped out of himself and turned an ear to what the priest was droning on about now. "-anyone here today who believes these two should not be joined for all eternity, may they speak now or forever more remain silent."
There was a span of silence that settled over the gathered as if someone was waiting for something. Blaise felt Pansy tense beside him before he realized that he himself was coiled up, waiting.
The silent only lasted a moment, however, and no one spoke up.
The minister nodded. "Let us proceed." He intoned deeply, turning to Pansy as a sort of immense disappointment settled over him. He'd been hoping she would show up at the last minute somehow.
"Do you, Pansy, take this man, Blaise, as your husband, sacred in all aspects of your union, in times of worry and in times of hardship and in times of pain, to forever more bind to your heart?"
Pansy's smile faltered a little and she snuck a glance at Blaise. His face was impassive and his eyes blank. "I do." She said, still staring at the man beside her. The priest turned to Blaise. "And do you, Blaise, take this woman Pansy, as your wife, sacred above all else and taken to be held as your life, in times of worry, and in times of hardship, and in times of pain, to forever more bind to you heart?"
Wild pain ripped through Blaise as he stopped imagining it was a dream and that it was Ginny, not Pansy by his side. His heart was screaming in agony at him to stop, he knew what he was doing was so wrong that it tore at every fibre of his being.
He opened his mouth, his own death sentence on his lips as he mentally said good-bye forever to Ginny. He felt a tear escape his eye and his released his breath.
"I d-"
"BLAISE, NO!"