InsaneJournal

It was bad enough, Neil thought as he straightened his tie in the bathroom mirror, that he was at his ex-girlfriend's wedding. What made it even worse was how he felt about her, how he still felt about her after four years. He still loved Charity, and she was marrying someone else. If he'd had any sense at all, he would have politely declined her request to have him be an usher. At least he'd gotten out of saying a few words during the ceremony; Charity knew how he felt about public speaking, and thankfully, her fiancé wasn't keen on having Neil take any part in the event at all, even as a guest. The compromise was that he'd be an usher, nothing more, nothing less. Dempster didn't stand a chance against Charity's stubbornness.

He sighed. He should probably get back to the guests and attendants, just in case anyone needed anything. With one last glance at himself in the mirror (he looked good; it was too bad Charity couldn't see that), he pushed open the bathroom door to resume his position near the front doors of the church to assist guests to their seats. To his surprise, Dempster hadn't arrived yet, but Neil wasn't sure of the proper etiquette for weddings. It wasn't his job to keep track of the groom, anyway, and the man wasn't late yet.

After walking a few more women to their seats, Neil began to sense that something wasn't quite right. People were getting anxious and were starting to ask questions -- questions he didn't have any answers for. All he could do was ask them if there was anything they needed, a drink or the bathroom. All he could do was wait.

There was something to be said that Charity Chambers was ready, and yet the wedding was not going on. It was only a few minutes past the start time on the invitations, and no one really expected weddings to start on time, did they? No news had filtered into the preparation room off to the side of the sanctuary, and so there was nothing for Charity to be worried about.

But she was. Everything was ready, everything was perfect, and though Charity was relaxed when it came to keeping schedules, her stomach was completely churning in her gut. Standing in front of the full length mirror, she surveyed herself. Her maid of honour fussed with her veil, which was doing nothing for Charity's nerves.

"Can you go get Neil for me? Bradley. One of the ushers. I need to talk to him." Impatient, Charity turned to the woman and stared her down. With a nod, the other woman disappeared. To the rest of the wedding party, Charity asked them all to leave. "I need a minute alone, please."

"Neil?" A hand tapped him on the shoulder, and he spun around, coming face to face with one of the nameless bridesmaids, or was this the maid of honour? He couldn't remember their names for the life of him, and couldn't tell them apart, either. "Charity would like to see you."

His eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Really?" The woman gave him a curt nod in reply, looking like she was trying very hard not to roll her eyes. "All right." Confused, he headed for the preparation room and knocked. "Char? It's me," he said before opening the door and slipping into the room. "You called?" He willed himself to smile. It was Charity's big day, and despite the awful, sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, he was not about to ruin it for her.

It wasn't until Neil came into the room that she started shaking. It wasn't noticeable to anyone but her, thankfully, but she felt as if she was cold, with no chill. She drew in a deep, shaky breath and then began to fan herself, eyes closed. Everyone who knew Charity knew that she had no problems in the spotlight, so this must have been something else.

"Sorry. I just... needed my best friend." Charity smiled at him weakly, apologetically. She crossed the room, careful not to trip over her dress, and grabbed both of his hands in hers. "How is everything out there? Are there a lot of people? Are my parents all right? Mum's been weird all day."

There was a soft knock at the door, and it wasn't until that moment that Charity caught sight of the clock on the wall. It was 2:30pm. The wedding was supposed to start thirty minutes ago. Madeline, the maid of honour, slipped into the room with an envelope. After handing it to Charity with a solemn look on her face, she disappeared. Charity clutched the envelope, but returned her attention to Neil, waiting for his answers.

After looking her over once, Neil felt like crying and smiling all at the same time. It felt wrong, the entire thing. The fact that Charity was even getting married, let alone to someone like Dempster, the fact that he was late, everything. But she was even more stunning than usual, and that made his smile a bit more genuine. "You look beautiful, Charity," he told her. "Everything's--"

The maid of honour's interruption kept him from lying to Charity, at least for a few more minutes. He was able to collect his thoughts, and, he hoped, figure out what to say without giving it all away. He'd never been a great liar, but if there was ever a time to learn, now was it. "Your parents are fine. Anxious to see you, probably. I think everyone's trying to figure out what the hold-up is, but it's fine. It's going to be fine. How are you, more importantly? Excited?"

"Nervous. Really, really nervous," she replied, exhaling harshly. Neil's hands were warm where hers were cold just about now, and she gave them a squeeze before pulling the envelope from her side. After eyeing it for a moment, Charity's expression turned a shade confused. Shrugging, she said, "Must be a last minute adjustment."

Careful to open it so that she didn't end up with a paper cut on her wedding day, she noted the seal on the outside, not giving it much thought. But the handwriting... she knew it instantly without having to look at the hastily scrawled signature.

Charity,

I am sorry to do this today of all days, and not in person. I knew that if I didn't write this down and now, I'd hurt you even more than I already am. I can't do this, this wedding, this marriage. You are a beautiful woman, but I am not the man for you.

I hope that one day, you can forgive me for leaving like this, and please believe how sorry I am.

Dempster

Charity glanced at Neil's shoulder without really seeing it. Dazed and confused and hurt, something inside of her snapped, collapsed. Her jittery, nervous arms slackened and fell limp at her sides. Fingers numb, the parchment slipped from her fingers.

Neil had no idea what there was to be nervous about -- except, maybe, the fact that she knew somewhere inside her that she was making the wrong decision. She might not have been consciously aware, but part of her had to know. Her wedding day was supposed to be the most exciting, happiest day of her life thus far. At least, that was how Neil viewed it, but he was a romantic at heart. When he got married -- well, he didn't exactly want to think about that under the current circumstances, but he held out hope that he'd find someone, and that it would be incredible.

Lost in his thoughts, Neil only vaguely noticed Charity opening up the letter and reading it, but when it fluttered to the ground, Neil snapped out of his daze. "Charity?" he asked uncertainly, his brow furrowed as he tried to translate the expression on her face. "What's wrong?" He bent over and picked up the parchment, not reading it yet. He didn't know what it was, or if she'd want him to snoop. Fuck it, he thought, flipping the paper over and quickly scanning the words on the page. It took him three times to realise that he'd read the note correctly the first time. "Oh shit," he breathed, his wide eyes looking up at Charity again.

By the time he was done, Charity had somehow managed to detach her veil from her hair. She had the blank expression of someone in utter shock or drugged up to the point of non-responsiveness. She dropped her veil to the floor, then leaned down to pull her incredibly expensive Prada shoes off her pedicured feet. Thunk, thunk. There was no need to worry about wrinkles or tearing it any more, so she slumped heavily into the overstuffed chair.

"How do you feel about Barbados, Neil? Too much sun for you?" Charity asked in a strange, almost too-calm voice. She tilted her head and looked at him without really looking at him.

"What?" Neil wasn't sure he was hearing her correctly. The first thing she had to say after reading the note from Dempster -- after realising that she was not going to be getting married -- was to ask him how he felt about Barbados? That was where she was going -- would have been going -- for her honeymoon. He tilted his head, brow furrowed in confusion as he tried to figure out what she was talking about. "Barbados? What, you want me to go with you?" he asked, incredulous. She couldn't possibly be serious.

"I have two tickets. The hotel's non-refundable." Her voice sounded very far away, even to her.

Charity snapped her attention to Neil's face, and for one agonising moment, the heartbreak of the moment was etched in every single line of her face, every single pigment in her green eyes. As she looked into Neil's warm and kind face, her lower lip trembled dangerously, and her emotions threatened to spill out. "I can't go out there. I don't want to see anyone."

In that moment, as Charity looked at him with a surprising amount of emotion on her face, Neil was sure that he could feel her heart breaking piece by piece. His own eyes welled up. This wasn't how it was supposed to go. He was supposed to be helping her mother to her seat, and then he was supposed to be watching Charity the radiant bride walk down the aisle towards her future husband and she was supposed to be happy. He wanted to fix it and make everything better instantly, but he didn't know how.

"Okay." Slowly, he nodded. "I'll... I'll figure something out. Tell work that there's -- there's an emergency, I..." He was sure that he would be fired, but he didn't care. If Charity needed him, he would be there.

Neil crossed the room quickly, intending to give her a hug, but once he was in front of her, he froze. Instead, he leaned over and kissed her forehead softly. "Don't worry about them. I'll take care of it," he assured her, with more confidence than he thought he had, "Just... what do you want me to tell them?"

Charity grabbed his hands once more, but this time, she was clinging to them as if he was a life-line. She looked into his eyes, and for one tiny moment, she couldn't for the life of her remember what she was upset about? Something inside her always knew things wouldn't work out with Dempster. Not to mention, would she really want to be Mrs Wiggleswade? Ergh.

She realised that what she was asking of Neil, to go out and tell everyone that it was off, the whole thing, was too much. It wasn't his duty; it was hers. Her hands held his tightly still, and she let her forehead rest against his. "I can't ask you to tell them. It's not fair, Neil. You shouldn't have to be the one to -- I'll do it."

And before he could object -- because she knew he would; he was a doll like that -- she stood up and shuffled toward the door. Taking a few shaky breaths and steeling herself for the onslaught, she pulled the door open. Charity turned to him, looking utterly terrified. "Can you... would you come with me, at least? I don't know if I can do it alone."

"Char, I--" Would never do this to you? Love you? Neil closed his eyes for a moment and sighed. Not the time, nor the place. He hoped that she wouldn't read too much into his reaction. All he wanted to be right then was her best friend. There was no point in arguing with Charity, so Neil finally nodded, acquiescing to her request. "Of course I'll go with you," he said earnestly, approaching the door with a sad look on his face. "Anything you want." He meant every word, and he hoped she knew he meant it. "Then we'll get away from here and go anywhere you want."

"You're the best, you know. Thank you," she told him with incredible feeling. Unfortunately, it was likely to be the last true genuine emotional thing she told anyone after that day. Breathing in and out through her mouth, she gave him a nod and began to walk out of the room.

Immediately, Madeline was there, as well as her other bridesmaids. They were buzzing all around her, and Charity fought to keep from waving them off like bees and turning tail and running for the door. For the most part, she just ignored them. Charity's eyes scanned the entrance hall for her brother Nico.

Having been doing a similar survey for his sister, Nico had taken a small excursion to check outside for her. Besides, with all the commotion that was stirring up, he wasn't sure what more to tell anyone outside of offering a shrug and a 'Look, I don't know.' He'd shaken a few people off his tail by making a fast exit, but without any sign of Charity, back inside he'd gone. And, as luck would have it, she was already standing there.

He caught her eye with a flap of his arms, and once he felt she was paying enough attention, threw his shoulders up widely in a shrug while mouthing out in exaggerated syllables 'ARE-YOU-ALL-RIGHT? SHOULD-I-' He made a walking gesture by waggling his pointer and middle finger back and forth. 'COME-OVER-THERE?'

Neil spotted Nico quickly by the wild hand gestures. Squinting, he shrugged his shoulders in response to Nico's questions. No, he didn't think Charity was all right, but he was fairly sure that Charity wanted to see her brother. He waved at Nico, trying to calmly gesturing him over without causing too much of a fuss or drawing even more attention. "Nico," he hissed, holding the infamous and now somewhat rumpled letter from Dempster in his hands. 'Help me', he mouthed at Nico. He felt completely helpless to do anything for Charity, and he hoped that her brother would know what to do, or what to say. Something, there had to be something.

Face set with concern after the returned shrugs offered no comforting answers, Nico nodded and gave a short salute. There wasn't any other way to get over than through the main bustle in the middle ground, and so he plunged into the crowd, shoving people aside. Manners be damned now that something was clearly not right with Charity.

"What's --" Nico had started when he finally joined Neil and Charity, but his eyes fell upon the letter and his mouth promptly stopped moving, simultaneously. Narrowing his eyes at the writing upon it revealed a few choice words of 'sorry' and 'hurt you', and though a picture was quickly forming from just that, he took the letter off Neil's hands to inspect as if there was a chance he might've imagined what the ink spelled out. There wasn't.

Nico pulled his eyes from the page, looking blankly at Neil first, then to Charity.

"Nico, would you be a dear and tell mum and dad to meet me in the prep room there?" Charity gestured to the room she and Neil had just come from. Her voice was oddly calm, but her eyes were completely dead. "Try and get them there as quickly as you can. I don't want them to have to deal with this in front of so many people."

Whether he left or not, Charity didn't know. Her stockinged feet padded across the floor to the main sanctuary. Once at the rear entrance, everyone turned around to look at her. Some people stood up, clearly not getting the memo that a wedding thirty minutes late, with the bride showing up without a processional was not a signal to stand up and smile. Nor was it a time to snap photographs.

For a long moment, she just stood there, unsure of how to just say it. Go home, the wedding is off? Hello, I've been jilted. Enjoy the buffet. Instead, she just backed up, holding out her hands and shaking her head.

The look in Neil's eyes wasn't nearly as blank or dead as Charity's, not by a long shot, but despite feeling like he should be the strong one and take care of everything for her, all he could do was shrug his shoulders and tag along after her. Luckily, the letter was clear enough, so he didn't feel like he had to linger to explain anything to Nico. Besides, Charity needed him. "Charity," he whispered, leaning in behind her, holding out his arms when she backed up. "Do you want me to stay out here and get everyone out? Maybe..." Well, he probably didn't have to explain anything. But he did want to make sure Charity could deal with her family on her own, without worrying that any guests would be hanging around to offer condolences or anything stupid like that. He shook his head. "I'll knock when everyone's gone, all right?"

Nico had given a nod, faltering if only because he felt he ought to linger back with his sister despite her request that he find and hook their parents from the main hall. Still, Neil didn't seem to be abandoning her side, and if Nico had to pick anyone else to keep close when he couldn't, he wouldn't have been adverse to it being Neil.

Ducking back into the crowd, Nicolaus Sr. and Holly were an easy two to locate on the far side, and Nico only paused to throw one more look at the pair that he'd broke off from as a flurry of camera flashes went off. Leave it to friends and family to be enthusiastically daft, he thought, as he quickened his step.

Charity simply nodded, not trusting herself to speak -- not with so many people around. Out of the corner of her eye, she one of her work peers, one she absolutely loathed, but Dempster was quite good friends with her: Rita Skeeter. Eyes widening, she practically bolted for the prep room, but not before leaving a simple, "Don't talk to her; get someone else to get everyone out, and meet me in that room."

When she was safely inside the preparation room, her mother was distraught. Her father was turning purple; he looked so angry. Charity leaned back against the door, listening to the sounds of people leaving the church, confused and pitying. That was the last thing she needed.

It took roughly twenty minutes before Neil was able to return to the room. Once Charity had fled, he'd gotten surrounded by concerned guests asking too many questions, questions that he didn't know the answer to and that he didn't particularly want to answer in the first place. A simple 'the wedding's off' wasn't always enough for some people. Some wanted to know why. Eventually, Neil snapped and told some nosy, gossipy woman to ask Dempster that question, and he stomped off, having carefully avoided Rita as Charity had asked.

When he knocked, nearly everyone was gone, other than the staff and a few stragglers. He knocked first, and then entered the room, breathing a deep sigh of relief once he was inside. Even though he knew Charity wanted him there, he felt out of place there, with her parents, and he knew it probably showed on his face. He cleared his throat and shifted his weight back and forth, uncomfortably picking at his tie with a hand. "Everyone's gone, or... or leaving. Skeeter, too." At least as far as he could tell.

Nico, Nicolaus, and Holly were on their feet, shuffling over to one of the fireplaces that had been temporarily connected to the Floo network for this day. The other was in the main corridor, protected by Muggle repelling charms. Nicolaus kissed Charity on the cheek. Her mother was in tears, patting her face.

It was just Nico Chambers and Neil) left for the moment.

"You'll be all right?" Nico asked, stepping away from the fireplace and up to Charity. Of course, she wouldn't. Not really. It was just the sort of thing you asked when you really meant something else like 'Should I stick around?' or 'Is there anything I can do?' "'Cause..." He reached out, plonking down his hands on her shoulders in the sort of way only a brother seemed to be able to do in one of those rare moments when sibling concern could be viewed. "All you have to do is say a word, Char. I can stay if you want."

She'd already formulated a plan in her head. First thing she would do when she got to Barbados: quit her job at the Daily Prophet. That would free her from the impending gloom of returning to the place she'd met Dempster. Maybe this had been just the step she'd needed to get her own studio off the ground. She could probably pull a few contacts from the her Rolladex there. Roger worked at Quidditch Monthly.

"Thanks, Nic. Go home, have something really greasy and fattening for dinner for me. Maybe some ice cream. I'm going on my honeymoon anyway. Tell mum and dad... I don't know. I'll talk to them when I get back." She leaned forward automatically, kissing Nico on the cheek before stepping away from him. It almost felt like a good-bye, and in a way, it was. "Love you."

She probably knew he was a putting on a smile just for show when he replied, "Fudge ripple, got it." And before she'd backed away, Nico had tugged her into a hug. 'When I get back' seemed telling enough that a hug wasn't out of place if it was going to be a bit until the next time they got to talk. "Take care, Char," he finished, tossing up a salute as a final gesture before vanishing through the Floo network.

Finally, they were alone. Really alone. The tension in the room was still just about suffocating Neil, but it felt considerably more comfortable with just the two of them left. He approached Charity, having remained in the background near the door while she said her goodbyes to her parents and Nico. "So... honeymoon's not 'til tomorrow, yeah? What are we going to do until then? We can go home," he suggested, though whose place he meant, he wasn't sure, "get you out of the dress and... I don't know, order in? Go out somewhere?" He didn't like the thought of Charity having any drinks at all, not under the circumstances, not when he couldn't read her mood anymore, but he had a bad feeling that she might want to do something to try to forget. "My tie's sort of itchy, anyway... not that it really matters."

"Then take it off. There isn't any need any more. Here, let me," Charity told him, as if the answer should have been obvious. In front of him, she began to loosen his tie, her fingers deftly undoing all the knots. When it was done, she unbuttoned the top two buttons of his shirt. It wasn't the tie that was itchy, after all, it was the shirt pressing on his neck from the tie.

Charity ought to have changed out of her dress, but she couldn't bring herself to do it. Maybe it would be easier to play the role still wearing it. Once she took it off, that was it. "Portkeys leave about 10. It's six hours earlier in Barbados. That means we have --" She glanced at the clock. "Seven hours to kill."

"Oh." Neil glanced at the clock as well, and then back at Charity, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand. "Well, I need to pack... and I need to come up with an excuse to get out of work and I need to let them know, so... maybe we'd better go to my place first, unless you want to change first?" All the while, they were skirting around the real issue at hand. If he'd been in her position, Neil was sure he would have started crying. "Whatever you want, Charity." It was still her day, even though she wasn't getting married.

"Let's go to your place," she answered quickly. There might be one of her reporter friends at hers, and she didn't think she could handle any questions. In a flash Chambers and without waiting for his reply), she grabbed Neil's hand, squeezed her eyes shut and Apparated him just down the alley from his flat.

"Are you sure you want to go with me? You don't have to, and if work is going to give you a hard time... I don't want you to get fired on my account," Charity told him as they walked toward his flat. It was fairly clear that she was in problem-solving mode, something she went into usually when she had a deadline and things just had to be done.

The sudden Apparition left Neil feeling light-headed and slightly nauseous, from nothing more than a lack of preparation, but he didn't want to complain. He kept a tight grip on her hand, however, as they walked. "I don't want you to go alone," he explained with a shrug. Even though the thought of going on Charity's honeymoon with her made him uncomfortable, the thought of her going alone was even worse. "We'll just treat it like a regular holiday," he added, mostly to convince himself. "And yeah, I'm sure. I have time saved up... I'll think of something. Even if it's the truth, well. Everything will be fine."

As they climbed the stairs to his building, Neil was only vaguely aware of many sets of eyes following them. Inside his flat, he pulled off his tuxedo jacket and carried it with him to his bedroom. "Make yourself at home, yeah? As usual," he called back to Charity from his bedroom, as he pulled out an overnight bag from his closet. "What sort of clothes do I need for Barbados? It's a lot warmer than it is here."

"Doesn't really matter. T-shirt? Shorts? Jeans? Maybe a nice pair of slacks and a shirt or something for a few dinners? Doesn't have to be a tonne. I think I've got that bit covered." Of course she did; she was Charity Summerby after all.

After shuffling around the front room for a while, Charity stopped in front of a photograph hanging on the wall. She'd obviously taken it; she could see her arm stretching toward the camera at some point. In it, her arm was around Neil's shoulders. They were both smiling brilliantly at the camera, and then she gave him a big smooch on the cheek. His eyes closed in embarrassment, and she could see the tips of his ears turning red. Her finger traced the glass on the frame when Neil came back into the room.

"That one's my favourite," Neil commented, referring to the picture, trying to sound casual. Sometimes, that photograph seemed to mock him, a constant reminder of how close they were without being as close as he wanted. He loved seeing that smile on her face, though.

"Your place now? I can give my boss a call when we get there." Neil dropped the bag on the floor near his feet, grateful to have magic to make packing a bag for a holiday to Barbados a bit easier. He'd changed, while he was in his bedroom, and he was no longer in his tuxedo. Instead, he'd picked out jeans and a t-shirt -- much more comfortable.

"I don't need to go to my place," she said, pulling what appeared to be a small coin purse from inside of her bustier. Charity gave it a little shake, and several bags of luggage could be heard rumbling around inside. "I had it at the church. I'm gonna go change now."

Ten minutes of staring at herself in the mirror and trying not to crack, Charity came out of the bathroom in her version of jeans and a t-shirt: a loose-fitting sundress and matching sandals. "Food? I'm starving. Haven't eaten all day."

Neil's eyes widened, and after taking a second to get over the shock, he laughed. Leave it to Charity to have that already taken care of, and safe inside her dress. When she re-emerged, he was on the couch, feet up on the coffee table, waiting for her next move. "Food it is," he agreed. It was easier to look at Charity now that she looked more like herself and less like, well, a bride. Gorgeous as ever, of course, which was always hard to see, but it was still easier. "Want to go out or stay in? We can order Chinese and put on some lame movie and mock them?"

"Sounds about perfect." Only it didn't, and the slightly droopy expression on her face gave her away. With all the courage she could muster, she slipped onto the couch next to Neil and curled up against his side. His heart and body were warm when she laid her head against it, and though she didn't say it, somewhere deep inside her, she knew that she was glad Dempster had dumped her before it had gotten too far.

This was where she would eventually want to stay.

His breath caught in his throat, and Neil felt choked up all over again. She just had to rub it in a little more, didn't she? Next, Neil was sure that she'd go on about how great of a friend he was. He sighed and put his arm around her carefully, hugging her closer. It wasn't her fault that he was an idiot who couldn't tell his best friend the truth about how he felt, he reminded himself, so he shouldn't blame her for his own stupidity.

He summoned his remote and turned the television on, flipping to a comedy channel so they wouldn't accidentally end up watching something sappy, and turned the volume down low, mostly for the background noise than anything else. "Yeah. Perfect." If it weren't for Dempster, it would have been perfect.