A/N: so sorry it took so long to update. exams and then computer problems. go to my livejournal if you want to know more and if you want to read reviewer responses. my username is randomlyholly if the link on my bio doesn't work.
This chapter...was created in about 30 minutes because the original one got eaten by the computer. So this chapter...is not very good I don't think. Ah well, maybe it's better than I think...let me know! toodles!
holly
Disclaimer: Seriously, how many times am I going to have to tell you I don't own it? Cuz I'm getting sick of saying it.
When Excape Plans Go Awry
Have you ever had one of those dreams where you accidentally show up to work naked and everyone is staring at you and someone floos the Magical Department of Public Safety and the police-wizards come and arrest you and bind your hands behind your back and haul you off to jail but on the way someone manages to snap your picture and then your family disowns you because your buck-naked on the front of the Daily Prophet and the police-wizards throw you in a cell and you realize you're not alone because there's a woman named Bubba in the corner and she's a lot bigger than you and she's smiling in a distinctly evil way and cracking her knuckles and all you can think about are those articles you read in Witch Weekly that tell you about what really goes on in prison so you hurl yourself out the window because you'd rather die than wait around to find out what Bubba has in store for you and just as you hit the ground you wake up screaming?
Ya, well I was pretty sure that was what was happening. Dreaming, that is. Me. Dreaming. One of those really weird dreams like the one mentioned to your up.
So anywho, I decided that I must be dreaming because not even Luna would make us wear a coconut bra in the middle of February. For her wedding. With fruit baskets on our heads.
Really, it was completely ridiculous. No possible way there was any truth in it. Had to be a dream, right?
Right?
I decided that just to be safe I should pinch myself.
So I did.
It hurt.
Rather badly, in all truth. Probably I would have a bruise.
But the point is it hurt. Which meant that I wasn't dreaming. Which meant that I was really going to be wearing a coconut bra and a fruit basket during Luna's wedding.
Which meant that I needed a Plan. An Escape Plan, to be exact.
After contemplating my situation for close to ten minutes, I decided that I had three options.
Option A: Move to the Canadian Wilderness and survive on what the land provides. Who knows? Frozen caribou might not be so bad with a little salt. Which I suppose I would have to extract from bear pee or something since I don't think salt grows in the Canadian Wilderness. In fact, I don't think salt grows at all.
Right. We'll scratch Canada, then.
Perhaps Sri Lanka…As long as I made sure to get out of the way when one of the elephants decided it needed to sit, I figured I'd be fine. Sri Lanka it was then.
So, moving on to Option B: Filch the apple from my hat, sit in the corner, and devour it like there was no tomorrow so I wouldn't die of starvation when Madame Malkin turned me into a mannequin.
And Option C: Run away. Far, far away.
I rather liked Option C as I didn't too much fancy eating pee-extracted-salt and I still didn't want to become an Inflatable Human Bra.
So, I crept over to the dressing room door, opened it the tiniest fraction of a crack, and peeked out into the Cosmic Vortex of Doom, otherwise known as Madame Malkin's fitting room.
The room was a-bustle in activity.
But, more importantly, Madame Malkin was once again occupied with the loin-cloth-bedecked-fat-man. Except now he was more of a loin-cloth-bedecked-fat-with-feathers because he was adorned with what looked to be an Indian Tribal Headdress. Briefly I wondered why he was dressed in such attire, but those thoughts were soon ousted by more pressing matters. Such as what the best route from my position in th Dressing Room of Doom to the Door of Escapation would be.
I decided that the best course of action would be to slip out of the dressing room and behind the oncoming rack of dresses. Then, I would be able to jump behind the display of dress robes for the upcoming Yule Ball at Hogwarts. From there, I could army crawl to the pile of shoeboxes in the corner, jump up, and make a mad dash out the Door of Escapation.
It was flawless.
I kept my eye to the crack of the door and watched the rack of dresses creep closer and closer.
When it was a few feet away, I slowly opened the door a little wider so I could slip out unnoticed. The cart got to be even with the door, and I jumped behind the rack and crouched over so I wouldn't be seen.
Not that I could have been seen even if I had stood straight up. I'm not exactly the tallest person in the world. In fact, I'm rather short. But I prefer the term "vertically challenged. Anywho, I crouched over to add to the effect of my Escape Mission, and stayed behind the rack until I reached the display of dress robes. I quickly jumped behind a mannequin wearing a bright pink dress robe and peered around her to assess my position.
I was approximately 14.7 feet from the doorway and 10.3 feet from the pile of shoe boxes I was planning to use for a temporary hiding place. Madame Malkin was nowhere to be seen, and my path from the mannequin to the shoeboxes seemed to be clear.
How good am I at making plans?
I dropped to my stomach behind the dress robes display, pushed my hat away from my eyes, and army crawled to the shoe boxes.
I got to them, stood up, swiveled my head back and forth…and saw Madame Malkin turning her head towards my corner.
I decided that my best bet would be to make a run for it.
So I did.
Only the hat fell back over my eyes, which caused me to flail about trying to find my way to the door, which caused me to lose control of my feet, which caused me to trip, which caused me to take a flying leap into the pile of newly-arrived Inflatable Underwear.
Which caused them all to inflate and the room to go silent.
That is except for Madame Malkin.
She was going, "GINEVRA WEASELY! YOU…YOU…GINEVRA WEASELY!...YOU'VE INFLATED ALL MY UNDERWEAR!...WHY, IN ALL MY DAYS…" etc., etc.
I could hear her throwing the underwear out of her way in her effort to get to me, and I decided that I was soon to be a mannequin. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad. At least I wouldn't be wearing the Coconut Boobs.
Just underwear. That inflates.
Right.
I was pondering these facts when the inflated pink bra in front of my face was snatched away and Madame Malkin's irate face was suddenly looming before me.
She stopped in her tirade when she saw me and her eyes narrowed. "Fine," she said, "If you refuse to dress yourself, I'll do it for you!"
And then she grabbed my ear and hauled me out of the underwear.
"Owwwwwwww!" I said. Because that hurt. Seriously, I can see why this method of discipline is successful.
Madame Malkin whipped out her wand and summoned the Coconut Boobs and hula skirt from my dressing room. She caught them with one hand and yanked me up onto my pedestal with her other. Then, she flicked her wand again, and a flowery curtain was suddenly surrounding my pedestal.
She held the garments out towards me, "I suggest you put these one right now unless you want me to do it for you."
I resisted the urge to tell her that she already said that she was going to do it for me, and that she must not be very true to her word if she'd changed her mind. But I thought that probably wouldn't be too smart. Probably I would be a mannequin before I could say, "The Linklenorgs made me do it."
So, I took the clothing from her and sighed resignedly.
Madame Malkin gave a satisfied grunt, and turned around...and stood there...not leaving.
Wasn't she going to leave?
I tapped her on the shoulder, "Erm, aren't you going to leave?" I asked.
She snorted, "Ha! And have you destroy something else in my store? I think not!" She folded her arms across her chest and tapped her foot impatiently.
Oh now really, I didn't destroy anything. Only inflated a couple bras. Is that such a horrible crime?
I sighed again and looked at the Coconut Boobs. Ah well, there was nothing else for it.
I glared towards Madame Malkin's back as I undressed and put on the outfit.
"Fine. I put it on. Are you happy now?"
She glanced over her shoulder and then turned around. Her eyes narrowed speculatively and she began circling me. I shifted uncomfortably under the scrutiny.
Suddenly she stopped behind me and pulled on the twine of the Coconut Boobs, "This is too loose," she stated. She grabbed the strings, untied them, tugged on them, and then tied them so tight that I could hardly breathe.
"Much better," she said, walking around to my front, and looking me up and down. She gave a nod of approval and whipped the curtains open.
I stood there in shock, gaping at my reflection. I looked like one of those bobble-head hula girls that people stick to the front of their broomsticks.
Only worse.
Because, you know, I had red hair and freckles. And I was really pale. Not a good combination when you're wearing a hula outfit. Probably little children on the streets were going to scream and run away.
Not that I would be wearing this on the streets, it was only a metaphor.
My stomach growled again, and I glanced up at the apple on my hat. Unfortunately, Madame Malkin saw where my gaze was going and narrowed her eyes.
"Don't even think about it Miss Weasely. You go change out of that right now, and I'll get your next outfit ready."
My stomach growled again, "But I'm hungry," I whined, and then I realized what she had said, "What next outfit? There's more than one?"
Madame Malkin just looked at me, "Yes there's more than one, considering there's more than one fitting."
A bell tinkled as the door to the store was opened, and we both looked over to see Hermione Granger step inside, clutching a scarf around her neck with one hand and dragging a very reluctant Ronald Weasely behind her with the other.
I groaned, I had forgotten.
"Ron, I told you already. We have to come to the fitting so that our clothes will fit on our wedding day. Or have you forgotten that we're getting married, as well as when you were supposed to meet me for the fitting?"
Hermione let go of his hand and began unwinding the scarf from her neck and shaking the snow out of her mane of bushy brown hair.
Ron stumbled in behind her and took his hat off irritably, "Merlin, woman. Quit nagging me. I have a headache." With this proclamation, he groaned and rubbed his temples with his forefingers.
Hermione's eyes flashed and practically emitted sparks, "Nagging! Nagging, am I? Well I wouldn't have to nag if you didn't forget things all the time!" she shrilled, "And it's your own fault you have a headache. You shouldn't have stayed up all night watching that stupid television!"
That's when the door opened again, letting a fresh whirl of snow enter and producing a bespectacled man wearing a heavy coat and a green scarf. He froze at the word "television" and a sheepish look crossed his face.
"Erm, hello Ron, Hermione," he said, nodding at Ron and not meeting Hermione's fiery gaze. They ignored him.
"Hermione, the feletision is not stupid! It's a bloody brilliant piece of muggle kepology! Isn't that right, Harry?" Ron turned towards Harry with an expectant look on his face.
Harry's eyes widened and he glanced at Hermione, "Erm, uh, well…"
But Hermione cut him off, "This is all your fault anyways, Harry Potter. If you hadn't bought him that stupid thing, he wouldn't have stayed up all night watching cartoons!" she turned towards Ron again, "And it's a television, Ron. Muggle technology."
With that, she turned on her heel and started to stomp away from them. That is, until she caught sight of me in all my Hawaiin glory.
"Ginny?" she said incredulously, "What are you wearing?"
Ron and Harry peeked over her shoulders towards me, and their mouths gaped open in shock. Ron recovered first, and he collapsed on the floor in laughter, clutching his stomach and pointing at me. Harry just kept on staring with his mouth hanging open and his eyes fixed on my coconuts.
I glared at Ron, "I'm wearing a hula skirt and a coconut bra. Or can you not see that because you're eyes have been fried from watching too many of those muggle cartoons? You realize those are for muggle children, right?" That shut him up.
He got back to his feet and glared at me, "Well then why are you wearing a coconut bra and a hula skirt?"
"Because I'm moving to Hawaii, Ron," I said sarcastically. Ron looked at me in shock, "Oh Merlin, Ron, I was kidding. Luna's decided her wedding's going to be a Luau."
That set him off again, and he resumed his rolling about on the floor. Harry had stopped staring at my coconuts and was now looking at me with a horrified expression on his face.
"A Luau?" he croaked.
I nodded.
"What do the groomsmen have to wear?" he asked, not sounding particularly like he wanted to know.
I frowned, "I don't know. Are you a groomsman?"
Harry nodded, "Ya."
"Well, I seriously doubt it will be worse than this," I said gesturing at my attire.
Harry flushed, "Um, right," he said, looking down at his feet.
I rolled my eyes. That man was so shy when it came to anything relating to girls. It's not like he fancied me or anything. We had been friends since the summer after my fourth year. Friendship tends to happen when you ride an invisible ghost horse to the Ministry of Magic and face the most evil dark wizard known to man.
But, then again, his shyness was part of the reason he was rated as the Wizarding World's Most Eligible Bachelor in the latest Which Weekly. He was mysterious and sexy, and the shyness was cute and made him seem chivalrous. As an added bonus, he had saved the entire wizarding world from Moldy Warts himself. Plus he was incredibly hot.
Not that I'd noticed or anything.
We were only friends. I didn't care about things like that.
Well, come on! I was allowed to look, wasn't I? I mean, I have eyes, and I can appreciate what I see with them. But that didn't mean I had feelings for the guy. I just realized that he was incredibly hot. And he had a great personality to boot.
So ya, I didn't notice all those things.
Anywho, Harry was still staring at his shoes, and Ron was clutching his stomach and saying "Can't breathe, can't….breathe…" as he got up and used Hermione's shoulder for support.
My stomach growled again, and I glared at it, "Shut up, will you!" I screamed at it. Ron, Hermione, and Harry looked at me in surprise.
"Erm, Gin?" asked Harry.
I looked up, "What?" I snapped irritably.
"Um, who are you talking to?"
I glared at my stomach again, "My stomach," I answered shortly.
"Oh…may I ask why?"
I looked at him, "Because it's growling."
"Ah…" he said, and resumed staring at his shoes and flushing.
Honestly, the boy was hopeless.
Ron looked at me innocently, "Oh, are you hungry?"
I rolled my eyes at him, "No, my stomach is growling because I'm full," I said sarcastically, "Of course I'm hungry, Ron! I haven't had anything to eat all day!"
Ron put a contemplative look on his face, "Huh, that's odd…" he trailed off, seemingly thinking to himself.
I looked at him, exasperated, "What's odd, Ron?"
He smirked at me, "Well, it's just, you're wearing all that food, and you can't eat it!" He burst out laughing again, and went back to clutching his stomach.
I ignored him, "Do any of you have any food?"
Harry and Hermione shook their heads.
Ron stopped laughing long enough to say, "No, but it looks like you do!" And then he was on the floor again.
"Oh grow up Ron," I said, "And Madame Malkin is over there, so you should probably go over and get your robes."
Harry nodded and reached down to grab Ron by his collar and haul him up. The two of them walked off towards Madame Malkin, while Hermione stood with her hands on her hips shaking her head at their backs and sighing.
"I don't know if he'll ever grow up," she said.
I looked at her, "Probably not. And you're marrying him. Have I told you that you're nutters yet? Because you are."
Hermione chuckled, "Yes well, I'm in love with the prat, despite it all." She sighed and looked off into space dreamily.
I made a face and waved a hand in front of her face, "Herrmiiiiioneeeeee? Snap out of it will you? Yeesh."
She blinked and looked at me, "Sorry," she said sheepishly.
I rolled my eyes, "I don't know what it is with you people and falling in love. Really, it doesn't get you anywhere. I mean, look at you, you're marrying Ron because of it. It doesn't get much worse than that."
Hermione's eyes sharpened and her back straightened, a sure sign that she was up to something, "Love is a wonderful thing. If you would only give someone a chance, I know this nice guy named Todd…"
I threw my hand up, "Oh no. Oh no, oh no, oh no. You are not setting me up on another blind date Hermione! Nuh uh. No way!"
Hermione threw her hands up in exasperation, "Why not?"
I looked at her blandly, "Remember what happened last time you talked me into one?"
Hermione looked away, "That wasn't so bad…" she trailed off.
"Wasn't so bad? Hermione! He took me to a muggle opera. AND, he didn't tell me, so I wore jeans and a t-shirt. Do you know how painful it is to listen to a bunch of muggles screeching out songs in a foreign language?"
Hermione put her hands on her hips, "I'm sure it was a very cultural experience that he though you would enjoy," she said.
"And I suppose him snogging the lead singer backstage was a cultural experience I would enjoy as well?"
Hermione waved her hand dismissively, "Ok, well that was one was just a fluke."
I snorted, "Well the other one must've been a fluke too, then."
Hermione shook her finger at me, "That one was your fault, Ginny, and you know it!"
I looked at her incredulously, "It was not! If that stupid cat had gotten out of my way then I wouldn't have tripped over it and dumped the gravy on his grandma! Plus, why did he take me to his grandmother's house for a date?"
Hermione glared, "He probably wanted you to meet his family. I doubt he realized that you would kill his cat and send his grandmother to St. Mungo's!"
"It's not my fault she was allergic to gravy! And he's the one who trampled the cat trying to get to the woman!"
Hermione sighed and shook her head, "Ginny, if you would just give Todd a try, I'm sure you'd like him."
"No, Hermione."
"But he's so nice…"
"You go out with him then."
"I'm engaged, Ginny."
"So you're admitting you would if you weren't engaged?"
"Well, yes I suppose…"
"A HA," I jabbed a finger at her, "See? You're already wishing you could get rid of Ron and go out with someone else!" I patted her on the head and sighed pityingly, "You're trapped by commitment. Unable to break free of your bonds and experience life to the fullest. It's a shame, you were always such a clever girl…"
Hermione shoved my hand away from her head and glared at me, "Honestly, Ginny. Sometimes I think you must be channeling Fred and George. And that is not a compliment." And she stomped off towards the fitting rooms.
I smirked at her retreating back and decided I deserved a prize for my witty banter. So, I reached up, grabbed my apple, and took a large, juicy bite.
Ahhhhh, bliss. Pure bliss.
I chewed the apple and took another bite, glancing up at the mirror as I did so.
That's when I passed out and landed in the lamp shades.
Partly because I had been denied the opportunity for consumption of food all day long, and two bites of an apple doesn't go very far.
Partly because Madame Malkin had been rather forceful in the tying of the Coconut Boobs, thus cutting off some of the circulation of blood to my brain.
And partly because I had just inhaled the last bit of my apple when I saw Harry Potter, Man-Who-Conquered, walk out of the dressing room in naught but a loincloth and an Indian Tribal Headdress.
A/N: Hm, not very good I don't think. But I decided I couldnt make ya'll wait anymore and not having it finished was driving me crazy. Check out my live journal for reviewer responses and the explanations for why it was so late in coming out...
REVIEW!
toodles!
holly
