She was a Slytherin and he was a Gryffindor.
❝Will you stop being a bitchy tosser, Hope?❞
❝Will you get yourself a new haircut, Potter?❞
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❛❛You make my heart shake, bend, and break. But I can't turn away, and it's driving me wild, you're d...
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The witch raced around the dressing room, frazzled with nerves and anxiousness. It was the day of Blaire Hope's wedding day; which meant it was one of the biggest Wizarding events in history. To be fair, it was only big because of Harry Potter getting married. But Blaire made it about herself, since she was the center of attention, as always.
The brunette's maid of honor-Hermione Granger-tried to keep her best friend calm, but was failing miserably. Blaire was in a state of panic. She thought of the most bizarre ways that could ruin the wedding, which were never going to happen. Blaire was psyching herself out, and the numerous cups of coffee she had just a few hours ago were not helping her cause.
"Blaire, you're starting to create a draft, you bloody idiot!" Hermione scolded the pacing bride.
Blaire sighed heavily, turning her attention to the witch. "I'm sorry, I just want today to be perfect."
Hermione grabbed onto her shoulders, making the brunette stand still. "Everything will be perfect, I promise you. You're going to marry Harry and live happily ever after," the brightest witch reassured her.
Blaire nodded, as her father had entered into the dressing room, ready to give his daughter away. Marko stared at his beautiful daughter in awe, a tear falling down his face. He couldn't be anymore prouder with his daughter.
"Blaire, you look absolutely beautiful," her father spoke, speechless at her radiating beauty. She smiled widely, trying not to cry herself. She securely wrapped her arms around her father's neck, giving him a loving embrace.
"Your mom would be so proud," Marko said, his tone laced with a hint of sadness, but joy.
"I feel her here, with me," Blaire confessed, a sad smile painted against her lips.
"I know."
The music had began, ringing through their ears, knowing it was time. Hermione and the other bridesmaids started down the aisle, as the flower girl joined them. Blaire was ready to be married. Ready to marry the love of her life. Ready for the journey ahead. Marko gave her his arm, as she slipped hers around his. They walked down the aisle, everyone stood as they watched in euphoria. Blaire kissed her fathers cheek, as he gave her away to the raven-haired man standing before her.
Blaire took Harry's hand, as he lightly pecked her cheek. She beamed with happiness and love. This was everything she could've dreamt of. Her friends and family watching her marrying her everything; the man whose been there for her through everything. The good, the bad, and the ugly.
The priest said his words, as it was time for the couple's vows.
Harry nervously cleared his throat, as he took her hands in his. He had an uneasy smile, but one glance in her eyes, and he felt suddenly calm. "Blaire, when I first met you, I despised you, and vice versa," Harry started out, earning chuckles from Blaire and the audience. Harry smiled jokingly, as he continued. "Somewhere along the way, I fell for you. I don't know how, but I did, and I'm glad I did. You've been there for me, and never judged me, or gave of hope on me. I love you Blaire Hope, more than anyone can ever imagine."
Blaire had tears rolling down her cheeks, an ecstatic smile stained her face. The amount of tears didn't add up to how she felt in this moment. She was on cloud nine. "Harry, I don't know how I fell for your stupid haircut and your terrible fashion sense, but I did anyway," she joked, as the audience once again laughed. "You've made me the happiest woman on earth; cliche' as it sounds, you're my soulmate. Believe it or not, I think you're the only one who can actually put up with me, as crazy as it sounds. I promise to always love you, regardless of what life throws at us. I'm always by your side, one hundred percent."
By the time the rings were on their fingers, and they said I do, Blaire was nonstop crying. Harry laughed at his newly declared wife's tears, as he used his thumb to brush them away. He kissed her passionately, sweeping her off her feet, as the crowd cheered in delight.
Their wedding night was even more passionate filled than the actual wedding was. But isn't that how it's suppose to be?
