Chapter Eighteen:: The Yule Ball pt. 1: Preparation
__________________________________________________
Immense nervousness and suspicion came in the days leading up to the Yule Ball.
Things seemed to be a bit odder at Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry than usual; for instance, if anyone tried to tell someone else about their outfits, either they found they could not talk, they couldn't hear, or they couldn't remember what had just been said.
As for the nervousness, that was mostly on the girls' part; trying to find what makeup would work best with their outfits got extremely annoying when you couldn't even ask anyone's opinion because no one would know what you were talking about.
However, it seemed that the nervousness spread to the boy's population as well. Either they fretted about what others would say when they showed up in the Great hall, or they would complain about not being able to complain about the state of their outfits.
This particular event was putting everyone's nerves on edge.
Teachers were stressing out about the number of students they had to deal with because of their immense stress. Everyone felt that the Yule Ball could not come soon enough.
And so, everyone, by Dumbledore's decree was given the two days before the Yule Ball off.
_____________________________________________________
Kit's first days in Gryffindor were uneventful. The one upside to it was that she had girls who would actually talk to her whom she could confer with and joke. It was a relief to actually talk to a girl now and then.
Hermione Granger and Ginny Weasley seemed to sense her need for speech and included her in everything; from teachers to boys to homework to family to praising people and dissing people – though they learned to stay away from the subject of Draco Malfoy when Kit was around.
Finally, the long awaited, half-dreaded day came.
One by one, people slipped out of the common room on Christmas Eve and went quietly up to their dorms to prepare for the coming event.
When the common room was all but empty, Kit vanished through her mirror... to come face to face with a shock.
In the center of her room stood Blaise and Draco, grinning incessantly. Blaise was already made up beautifully in a forest green business-like suit. His hair was brushed back and a bit tossled, giving him a conflicting look of playfulness and sophistication. For once, his hair actually seemed to be behaving itself – as well as the person underneath it.
Draco, on the other hand, was dressed in a white tee shirt and jeans, his hair tussled as if he'd run his hand through it one too many times. He looked like a 1950's American movie star.
Although Kit admired this look, with his work shirt showing shadows of his muscularity and his jeans looking extremely comfortable and his overall look giving off an entirely playful air, Kit had to admit it wouldn't work for the Yule Ball.
"Wh- what are you two doing in here? HOW did you get in here?"
Blaise grinned. "We tried an experiment; we –"
Draco's elbow shot out to meet his ribs.
Blaise winced. "- I wanted to see if we could still get in to your place through the window. It seemed we could, so we decided to come tonight, wait till you came, and give you a makeover for the ball!"
Kit stared at him. "Makeover?"
"Yeah," Blaise said impatiently, "You know, your hair, your makeup, get you dressed, etc., etc., etc. Come on!"
And he grabbed her arm, tugging her through the right hand door to her giant sized bathroom.
"W–"
"Take off your clothes and get in the tub – we'll be in in a minute." Blaise said with a wink before retreating out the door.
Kit could hear a yelp, then Blaise stuck his head back through the door.
"Draco wants me to tell you, the white bubbles are thick enough so we won't see anything." He added weakly. "Ow..."
Kit giggled as he tugged his head back out of the room.
Glancing about, her eyes landed on the Olympic sized tub.
Warily, she approached it as she stripped off her robes. Reaching over, she plucked a fuzzy blue towel off the rack beside the tub and laid it by the steps leading down to the water before entering in herself.
Letting out a sigh as the hot water flowed over her, Kit stood still until her body adjusted to the temperature of the water. Slowly, she moved to the faucets and began turning the taps until she found one that spurted thick white foam and smelled faintly of mint.
Once the tub had been filled with the rich bubbles, Kit relaxed and waded over to the side of the pool.
"Okay, you guys can come in now!" She called.
Instantly, the boys bowled through the door.
"Great!" Blaise said enthusiastically, "Now we can..." His voice trailed off as he stared at her.
"What?" Kit asked bewilderedly. "What's wrong?"
"Why didn't you take your braid out?" He asked finally.
"My – oh. I forgot – I don't usually take it out, so – I – I just didn't think of it." She said with a shrug.
Blaise continued to stare at her. "You weren't planning on going to the ball with your hair up, were you? Please tell me you weren't."
Kit shrugged again. "Okay, I won't tell you."
Blaise let out a long-suffering sigh. "And people say girls know all about fashion. Get over here."
Kit glared at his tone, but obeyed, making sure all of her stayed obscured by the bubbles.
"Turn around." He ordered. As she did so, he grabbed her dark rope of hair and hauled it up, surprised at its weight.
Expertly, his hands went to work with unwinding her long braid, which, to his horror, was filled with more tangles than he could imagine.
Blaise glanced at his watch; they had about an hour and forty-five minutes until show time. He heaved another sigh. "We've got a lot of work to do." He muttered under his breath.
_________________________________________________________
Forty-five minutes, twelve screams, three shrieks, one slap, and seven scratch marks later saw a whimpering Kit wrapped in a fluffy blue towel.
Her scalp was throbbing like crazy, and her head felt light. She was positive that Blaise had tugged out over half of her hair, and her head was too sore to touch.
"There," Blaise panted. "At least your hair is done. Now all we need to do is dry it."
"Don't even think about it." Kit growled, "You're never touching my hair again."
"Like I want to?" Blaise retorted. "Look what it got me!" He gestured to his soaked suit, the welt on his chin and the handprint on his face. He looked all as though he had tried to drown her instead of tame her hair.
Kit winced, as much out of shame as out of pain. "Sorry." She mumbled. Impulsively, she touched her hand to his face. Blaise grinned reluctantly.
"Ah well. I guess –"
Suddenly, he stopped. His face wasn't throbbing anymore. Hurriedly, he stood and looked in the mirror.
"What the –" He gasped. His face was perfect again. The welts were gone, and the red hand mark had disappeared.
"Wh-what'd you do?" He stammered, clearly in awe.
He heard a wet sploosh sound and closed his eyes until he heard the sound of a towel.
Kit turned back toward him and made a face. "It's something I can do every now and then. I just can't do it on myself."
"W-wow." Blaise whistled and looked at himself again. "That's pretty amazing. I can just take care of the rest – thank you! I'm not sure I'm gonna be able to get over this new revelation any time soon." He joked as he got out his wand.
With a wave, his suit and hair were back to normal, as they were when she first saw him. He took a look at her for a moment, and then flicked his wrist in her direction. Instantly, the throbbing in her head lessened as the weight on it seemingly decreased.
"What the - ?" Kit looked down at her hair. No longer was it a wet burden. Now it shown pleasantly, black and rich, in dark curls going past her waist.
Blaise gave another whistle. "Have you ever heard of Morgan Le Fay? The woman that even Queen Guinevere was jealous of?"
Kit nodded.
"Ever seen a picture?"
She shook her head.
"You might outrank her." He added admiringly. "All the dark beauties are the best... oh well, let's go get your dress on; I think we're making your boyfriend nervous." He added with a wink.
Kit swatted him.
"Okay, okay! Your Escort, then!" He surrendered with a chuckle.
Sighing, Kit followed him up to her room to be dressed, tucked, brushed and primped.
Now she felt sorry for how she had acted toward Draco. It seemed like a new definition of torture, having Blaise go over her inch-by-inch, folding material in just so here, brushing back a curl here, and waving his wand this way and that over her hair.
He said that he was trying to decide whether she should have a left side part, right side part, middle part, zigzag part or none at all... it was almost enough to make her scream.
Finally, just when her patience was about to snap, Blaise-the-magnificent- master-artist declared her perfect.
Kit positively leapt – as much as she could without bending – off the bed, slipped on her shoes and ran to the entrance – only to be stopped by her Creator's imperious command.
"What now?" She winced at the whiny tone of her voice.
"You can't just rush out there!" Blaise cried, plainly horrified. "You're not a peasant Cinderella princess who doesn't know any better; first off, she was a blond, secondly, she was a peasant, and third, she didn't have me. You, on the other hand, are a raven-haired beauty, who is going with the wealthiest guy in the school – and possibly the wizarding world – and you do happen to have me. So. Get back here. And walk. With me."
Groaning, Kit stalked back toward him and was rewarded with a frown. "Do you really want to embarrass him?" He asked slyly.
Kit frowned in return. "Nothing I do would embarrass him." She retorted, but the seed of doubt had been planted, and she stayed by his side.
"Good." Blaise said satisfactorily. "Now," He continued, placing her hand in the crook of his arm, "We will walk together. Draco will be coming with my charge and at the doors, we will switch. You will walk like this."
He demonstrated with his head raised slightly, striding slightly, but slowly. "Of course," He added deviously, "You'll be adding your own little hip swing and jig to it, I hope."
Kit glowered at him. "You're not getting everything, O Wise One. You're lucky I'm following these orders."
"Don't I know it?" Blaise replied easily.
Sighing, she once again thought of how unfair it was that he was made with the gift of keeping anyone or anything from being mad at him for more than a moment.
Slowly, she walked around the room, skirt trailing slightly, moving a bit faster than she would if she were at a wedding.
"Good." Blaise said approvingly. "Now, we can go."
It took all of her self-restraint to keep from running.
______________________________________________________________________
Hello! I want to say thank you to all my reviewers, past and present! Keep on reviewing, please, it gives me inspiration. If any of you have any ideas, please share them and I'll see if I can fit them in!
~Greek Witch~ Thanks for the compliment! I'll try to update more frequently; maybe I can get it down to a definite twice a week – or at least once and a half. ^_^
~Kirjava Deamon~ Well, I actually don't know what you mean, but I'm glad you liked this enough to review! My English only gets better further on. *wink* *haha*
~Wedgie Antilles~ Ha ha! I'm glad to see all us Draco luvrs (he's got a lot) are influencing your thinking to the best... heehee
Thanks again!
Oh, and I'm stealing this line, Luv ya lots like bertie botts! See you in Chapter Nineteen!
Yours truly,
Silverfey
__________________________________________________
Immense nervousness and suspicion came in the days leading up to the Yule Ball.
Things seemed to be a bit odder at Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry than usual; for instance, if anyone tried to tell someone else about their outfits, either they found they could not talk, they couldn't hear, or they couldn't remember what had just been said.
As for the nervousness, that was mostly on the girls' part; trying to find what makeup would work best with their outfits got extremely annoying when you couldn't even ask anyone's opinion because no one would know what you were talking about.
However, it seemed that the nervousness spread to the boy's population as well. Either they fretted about what others would say when they showed up in the Great hall, or they would complain about not being able to complain about the state of their outfits.
This particular event was putting everyone's nerves on edge.
Teachers were stressing out about the number of students they had to deal with because of their immense stress. Everyone felt that the Yule Ball could not come soon enough.
And so, everyone, by Dumbledore's decree was given the two days before the Yule Ball off.
_____________________________________________________
Kit's first days in Gryffindor were uneventful. The one upside to it was that she had girls who would actually talk to her whom she could confer with and joke. It was a relief to actually talk to a girl now and then.
Hermione Granger and Ginny Weasley seemed to sense her need for speech and included her in everything; from teachers to boys to homework to family to praising people and dissing people – though they learned to stay away from the subject of Draco Malfoy when Kit was around.
Finally, the long awaited, half-dreaded day came.
One by one, people slipped out of the common room on Christmas Eve and went quietly up to their dorms to prepare for the coming event.
When the common room was all but empty, Kit vanished through her mirror... to come face to face with a shock.
In the center of her room stood Blaise and Draco, grinning incessantly. Blaise was already made up beautifully in a forest green business-like suit. His hair was brushed back and a bit tossled, giving him a conflicting look of playfulness and sophistication. For once, his hair actually seemed to be behaving itself – as well as the person underneath it.
Draco, on the other hand, was dressed in a white tee shirt and jeans, his hair tussled as if he'd run his hand through it one too many times. He looked like a 1950's American movie star.
Although Kit admired this look, with his work shirt showing shadows of his muscularity and his jeans looking extremely comfortable and his overall look giving off an entirely playful air, Kit had to admit it wouldn't work for the Yule Ball.
"Wh- what are you two doing in here? HOW did you get in here?"
Blaise grinned. "We tried an experiment; we –"
Draco's elbow shot out to meet his ribs.
Blaise winced. "- I wanted to see if we could still get in to your place through the window. It seemed we could, so we decided to come tonight, wait till you came, and give you a makeover for the ball!"
Kit stared at him. "Makeover?"
"Yeah," Blaise said impatiently, "You know, your hair, your makeup, get you dressed, etc., etc., etc. Come on!"
And he grabbed her arm, tugging her through the right hand door to her giant sized bathroom.
"W–"
"Take off your clothes and get in the tub – we'll be in in a minute." Blaise said with a wink before retreating out the door.
Kit could hear a yelp, then Blaise stuck his head back through the door.
"Draco wants me to tell you, the white bubbles are thick enough so we won't see anything." He added weakly. "Ow..."
Kit giggled as he tugged his head back out of the room.
Glancing about, her eyes landed on the Olympic sized tub.
Warily, she approached it as she stripped off her robes. Reaching over, she plucked a fuzzy blue towel off the rack beside the tub and laid it by the steps leading down to the water before entering in herself.
Letting out a sigh as the hot water flowed over her, Kit stood still until her body adjusted to the temperature of the water. Slowly, she moved to the faucets and began turning the taps until she found one that spurted thick white foam and smelled faintly of mint.
Once the tub had been filled with the rich bubbles, Kit relaxed and waded over to the side of the pool.
"Okay, you guys can come in now!" She called.
Instantly, the boys bowled through the door.
"Great!" Blaise said enthusiastically, "Now we can..." His voice trailed off as he stared at her.
"What?" Kit asked bewilderedly. "What's wrong?"
"Why didn't you take your braid out?" He asked finally.
"My – oh. I forgot – I don't usually take it out, so – I – I just didn't think of it." She said with a shrug.
Blaise continued to stare at her. "You weren't planning on going to the ball with your hair up, were you? Please tell me you weren't."
Kit shrugged again. "Okay, I won't tell you."
Blaise let out a long-suffering sigh. "And people say girls know all about fashion. Get over here."
Kit glared at his tone, but obeyed, making sure all of her stayed obscured by the bubbles.
"Turn around." He ordered. As she did so, he grabbed her dark rope of hair and hauled it up, surprised at its weight.
Expertly, his hands went to work with unwinding her long braid, which, to his horror, was filled with more tangles than he could imagine.
Blaise glanced at his watch; they had about an hour and forty-five minutes until show time. He heaved another sigh. "We've got a lot of work to do." He muttered under his breath.
_________________________________________________________
Forty-five minutes, twelve screams, three shrieks, one slap, and seven scratch marks later saw a whimpering Kit wrapped in a fluffy blue towel.
Her scalp was throbbing like crazy, and her head felt light. She was positive that Blaise had tugged out over half of her hair, and her head was too sore to touch.
"There," Blaise panted. "At least your hair is done. Now all we need to do is dry it."
"Don't even think about it." Kit growled, "You're never touching my hair again."
"Like I want to?" Blaise retorted. "Look what it got me!" He gestured to his soaked suit, the welt on his chin and the handprint on his face. He looked all as though he had tried to drown her instead of tame her hair.
Kit winced, as much out of shame as out of pain. "Sorry." She mumbled. Impulsively, she touched her hand to his face. Blaise grinned reluctantly.
"Ah well. I guess –"
Suddenly, he stopped. His face wasn't throbbing anymore. Hurriedly, he stood and looked in the mirror.
"What the –" He gasped. His face was perfect again. The welts were gone, and the red hand mark had disappeared.
"Wh-what'd you do?" He stammered, clearly in awe.
He heard a wet sploosh sound and closed his eyes until he heard the sound of a towel.
Kit turned back toward him and made a face. "It's something I can do every now and then. I just can't do it on myself."
"W-wow." Blaise whistled and looked at himself again. "That's pretty amazing. I can just take care of the rest – thank you! I'm not sure I'm gonna be able to get over this new revelation any time soon." He joked as he got out his wand.
With a wave, his suit and hair were back to normal, as they were when she first saw him. He took a look at her for a moment, and then flicked his wrist in her direction. Instantly, the throbbing in her head lessened as the weight on it seemingly decreased.
"What the - ?" Kit looked down at her hair. No longer was it a wet burden. Now it shown pleasantly, black and rich, in dark curls going past her waist.
Blaise gave another whistle. "Have you ever heard of Morgan Le Fay? The woman that even Queen Guinevere was jealous of?"
Kit nodded.
"Ever seen a picture?"
She shook her head.
"You might outrank her." He added admiringly. "All the dark beauties are the best... oh well, let's go get your dress on; I think we're making your boyfriend nervous." He added with a wink.
Kit swatted him.
"Okay, okay! Your Escort, then!" He surrendered with a chuckle.
Sighing, Kit followed him up to her room to be dressed, tucked, brushed and primped.
Now she felt sorry for how she had acted toward Draco. It seemed like a new definition of torture, having Blaise go over her inch-by-inch, folding material in just so here, brushing back a curl here, and waving his wand this way and that over her hair.
He said that he was trying to decide whether she should have a left side part, right side part, middle part, zigzag part or none at all... it was almost enough to make her scream.
Finally, just when her patience was about to snap, Blaise-the-magnificent- master-artist declared her perfect.
Kit positively leapt – as much as she could without bending – off the bed, slipped on her shoes and ran to the entrance – only to be stopped by her Creator's imperious command.
"What now?" She winced at the whiny tone of her voice.
"You can't just rush out there!" Blaise cried, plainly horrified. "You're not a peasant Cinderella princess who doesn't know any better; first off, she was a blond, secondly, she was a peasant, and third, she didn't have me. You, on the other hand, are a raven-haired beauty, who is going with the wealthiest guy in the school – and possibly the wizarding world – and you do happen to have me. So. Get back here. And walk. With me."
Groaning, Kit stalked back toward him and was rewarded with a frown. "Do you really want to embarrass him?" He asked slyly.
Kit frowned in return. "Nothing I do would embarrass him." She retorted, but the seed of doubt had been planted, and she stayed by his side.
"Good." Blaise said satisfactorily. "Now," He continued, placing her hand in the crook of his arm, "We will walk together. Draco will be coming with my charge and at the doors, we will switch. You will walk like this."
He demonstrated with his head raised slightly, striding slightly, but slowly. "Of course," He added deviously, "You'll be adding your own little hip swing and jig to it, I hope."
Kit glowered at him. "You're not getting everything, O Wise One. You're lucky I'm following these orders."
"Don't I know it?" Blaise replied easily.
Sighing, she once again thought of how unfair it was that he was made with the gift of keeping anyone or anything from being mad at him for more than a moment.
Slowly, she walked around the room, skirt trailing slightly, moving a bit faster than she would if she were at a wedding.
"Good." Blaise said approvingly. "Now, we can go."
It took all of her self-restraint to keep from running.
______________________________________________________________________
Hello! I want to say thank you to all my reviewers, past and present! Keep on reviewing, please, it gives me inspiration. If any of you have any ideas, please share them and I'll see if I can fit them in!
~Greek Witch~ Thanks for the compliment! I'll try to update more frequently; maybe I can get it down to a definite twice a week – or at least once and a half. ^_^
~Kirjava Deamon~ Well, I actually don't know what you mean, but I'm glad you liked this enough to review! My English only gets better further on. *wink* *haha*
~Wedgie Antilles~ Ha ha! I'm glad to see all us Draco luvrs (he's got a lot) are influencing your thinking to the best... heehee
Thanks again!
Oh, and I'm stealing this line, Luv ya lots like bertie botts! See you in Chapter Nineteen!
Yours truly,
Silverfey