Chapter Forty-nine
Sarah Michelle held tight to Araminta's hand and tugged her into Cachalot and Caboodle's Costumes For All Occasions. "I'm sure that they'll have something we can wear in here! They have the widest selection of costumes in the wizarding world, according to the sign outside."
Araminta looked around. This was probably true; she'd never seen so many costumes in one place in her life. She could hardly see the back of the store, and Hogwarts students were running this way and that, half in and half out of various disguises.
"What do you think we should be?" asked Araminta.
A spooky voice came from behind them, and Araminta and Sarah Michelle turned around to look at the owner of Cachalot and Caboodle's. "Ladies, welcome, welcome. In response to your question, dear, the costume chooses the wizard. When you try the right one, you will know." The wizard turned his spooky eyes toward the shoppers. "However, far be it from me to get the in way of a little fun. I think the shoppers enjoy trying on the different costumes. Please speak to me if you require any further assistance." The wizard bowed to them and backed away.
"Okay, this is it!" Sarah Michelle grabbed Araminta's hand in anticipation. "On three! One, two, three!"
They ran toward the girls' side of the store. There were thousands upon thousands of costumes. "How will we ever decide?" wondered Araminta. "How will the costume know to pick me?"
Sarah Michelle picked up a hideous costume that looked like something Lil' Kim might wear. "What do you think of this?" she asked.
"I think you'd be awfully cold," Araminta replied truthfully. "All your naughty bits would show."
"But Ron would sure like it," Sarah Michelle said, grinning. She took a last, wistful look at the costume and put it back on the rack. "Hey, what about this one?"
"Hm, can you do a southern accent?" Araminta looked at the silver lamé dress. It laced up the back and had huge hoop skirts, lots of lace, and a matching parasol.
"Ah think ah cain," drawled Sarah Michelle. "But I also think that I'd have to dance about twelve feet away from Ron if I wore this. What else is here?"
Araminta looked around at the racks. There were plenty of things she didn't want to be; she hoped the costumes didn't want to choose her. It would be horrible to go to the Quidditch Ball dressed as a clown or a hobo.
"What about this?" she said, holding up a shiny black costume. As she did, it began to float up into the air and come off the hanger.
"What's happening to it?" asked Sarah Michelle. "And, hey, those are my robes!"
Sarah Michelle's robes had unbuttoned herself and flown into a neat pile on the floor. The costume of black leather unzipped and wrapped itself lovingly around Sarah Michelle's trim form, molding to her curves. From some other part of the store, a velvety pair of cat's ears, a tail on a little belt, and a black half-mask flew to Sarah Michelle to complete the costume.
"Hey, look at you," exclaimed Araminta, turning Sarah Michelle toward the nearest mirror. "Meow!"
"Wow, I do look really sexy," said Sarah Michelle as she admired her reflection. "But what about you?"
Araminta remembered that she needed a costume too. She started browsing through the racks again, wishing and hoping that something good would come her way.
"Here's a good one!" Sarah Michelle held up an angel costume. Araminta took it, but the wings didn't do anything and the halo stayed on the hanger.
"Huh," said Sarah Michelle. "Let's try this again. Ready, change!" She whipped a harem girl costume off the rack, and it wiggled a few times before going limp again. "Ooh, we must be getting close!" Sarah Michelle said, swinging her cat tail around with one hand.
"Oh, this is pretty," Araminta said, reaching toward a green and gold velvet dress like the one the princess wore in Shrek, but before she could touch it, another dress leaped off the rack and her robes began to fall away.
A red satin dress with a deep V in the back came softly against Araminta's skin. A red wig settled itself on her head and a glittery, sequined half-mask covered her from eyebrows to just beneath her nostrils.
"Oh, you're a courtesan, like Satine from Moulin Rouge," cried Sarah Michelle, clapping her hands.
Araminta held her hands away from herself and spun before the three-way mirror. She knew she made a stunning sight and that she was going to be the belle of the ball.
As Araminta and Sarah Michelle walked out of Cachalot and Caboodles with their costumes in dressbags, they turned to each other and made a solemn vow not to tell anyone else what their costumes were going to be on pain of death. They knew that neither would break it; they were already fast friends.