A/N – Again, sorry this took awhile. Now that school's started up, we've both been kind of busy; but we're giving you Draco in this update, and also Tonks. So if you're a fan of either, you should like this one. Thanks to Fleur the First, from whom I – Liz – kinda stole the idea of a makeover from. Not that it hasn't already been done, of course- Also, thanks so much to all of our reviewers – you guys are the absolute best! Without further adieu, enjoy!
"Girls and Boys"
"He's all wrong."
Harry looked questioningly up at his godfather. Sirius had his head in his hands and seemed to be mentally debating something.
"He's definitely all wrong."
"Who is?" Harry asked curiously, laying down the Daily Prophet.
"Ron," Sirius replied.
"That's not very nice, love," Remus mumbled from behind his coffee mug and an enormous book on house-elf history (having finally become a supporter of S.P.E.W.).
"Sorry. But Ron needs help before the wedding!"
"With what?" Harry inquired.
"He needs a makeover!" Sirius announced.
"That's really not nice," Remus said with a frown.
"Oh, come on, you can't tell me Ron doesn't have the slightest clue on how to get all prettied up!"
Harry twitched. "I don't think Ron needs to be 'all prettied up'!"
Sirius put on the pleading puppy-dog look he used all the time on Remus to get what he wanted. "Come on, it'll be fun!"
Remus melted. Harry watched this in considerable alarm. He knew Sirius had a great deal of mysterious power over the mild-mannered professor, but only just now was he beginning to see the full extent of that power.
"Don't look into his eyes!" he wailed, tugging fruitlessly on Remus' arm.
"Maybe Siri has a point," Remus murmured in a dazed sort of way, not looking away from Sirius' eyes.
"It's too late. He got you!" Harry pouted, releasing Remus' arm.
"So you'll do it?" Sirius asked eagerly.
"Yes, of course, chérie," Remus breathed.
"I suppose," Harry groused.
Sirius actually clapped his hands like a small child and beamed. "I knew you would! Accio Parchment!" He caught the parchment as it zoomed into the kitchen, seized a quill from the pot on the table, and began scribbling notes. Halfway through, he paused.
"You know, we're really going to need someone high-class to help... no offense."
Remus and Harry shrugged. "None taken. Do what you want."
"But who..." Sirius mused, scratching his chin with the end of his quill and staring out the window thoughtfully.
The doorbell rang. When neither Sirius nor Remus showed any indication of coming out of their trances (Remus was still gazing at Sirius in a dreamy sort of way that reminded Harry forcefully of Luna), Harry heaved a sigh and went to answer the door.
It was Tonks, her hair in bright blue pigtails today. "Wotcher, Harry!"
"Hi," Harry replied with a grin. "What brings you here?"
"Come to visit my mum's favourite cousin," Tonks said cheerfully.
"He's in the kitchen," Harry said, leading her into the kitchen where his godfather was sitting (now with Remus in his lap). Remus blushed red and jumped up from his lap, leaving Sirius looking distinctly grumpy.
"Wotcher, Puppy!"
"I'll kill your mother for telling you my nickname." Sirius scowled.
"Just you try, Puppy."
"Shut up."
Tonks plopped down in the extra kitchen chair and fiddled with the end of an electric-blue braid. "You're plotting something, Sirius. I just know it. You look exactly like Mum when she's got it in for me."
"He wants to give Ron a makeover," Harry piped up helpfully as Remus rushed to pour Tonks a cup of coffee.
"Dear God," Tonks groaned.
"And he wants someone high-class to help."
Inexplicably, Tonks beamed. "How about Auntie Narcissa's brat? My cousin Draco?"
"Draco hates us, he'd never help," Harry muttered resentfully.
Tonks' smile brightened. "Yes he will. I know how to make him."
Sirius gave her a Look. "How?"
"Blackmail."
The raven-haired man stared. "Damn. Sweetie, you're becoming too much of a Black for your own good."
"I always wanted to be like you and Mum," Tonks said happily.
"How are you going to blackmail Draco?" Harry wanted to know.
Tonks snickered and took a sip of her coffee. "You forget. Draco may be a brat, but Mum's still his auntie. You wouldn't believe the incriminating photos we have of him."
Harry and Sirius snickered as well. "Sounds good," Harry commented as Remus clucked his tongue disapprovingly.
Tonks smiled. She waved her wand and a heavy leather-bound photo album fell out of the air. Tonks began flipping rapidly through page after page of moving, black-and-white photos, until she found what she was looking for.
"Aha!"
She held the picture out for their approval.
The picture was of Draco at about six years old, dressed in only a duck-printed pair of sleeping shorts. He was dancing and singing, and even though the moving picture had no sound, they knew at once what he was singing, because it was a very distinctive dance.
Draco Malfoy was singing "I'm A Little Teapot".
Harry and Sirius burst into hysterical laughter, tears running down their cheeks. Tonks was giggling so hard she was turning red. Even Remus was chuckling, though he was shaking his head and trying to appear disgusted.
"It's p-p-perfect!" Harry spluttered. "After we get him to help us, I'm keeping that picture! You never know when it might come in handy!"
"Spoken like a true son of Jim," Sirius grinned, "and a true godson of mine. Harry, you make me proud."
-
"Draco, there's post for you," Lucius Malfoy drawled, pulling a letter from the leg of an eagle owl and studying it critically. His wife peered suspiciously over his shoulder, then seized the letter.
"I know that handwriting! It's so familiar, but I can't remember whose it is..." Her brow furrowed in thought as she passed the letter to her son.
Draco shrugged and slit open the letter. A photograph fell out. He picked it up, and his eyes widened in horror.
It was a copy of a picture of himself at six, singing and dancing "I'm A Little Teapot".
"What is it, son?" Lucius inquired. Unable to answer, Draco pulled the letter out of the envelope with shaking hands and began to read.
'Dear Draco,
HAHAHAHAHAHA! Little Teapot! PRICELESS! Ye gods, I missed so much in Azkaban. Heheheh, I bet you're wondering who this is! Well, I'm Sirius Black! HAHAHA! REMEMBER ME! Harry's godfather! And your mother's cousin! (Say 'Hi' and 'Screw you!' to her from me!)
Oh, Remmie says to get on with it. So here is my proposal - you will come to 117 Smith Lane in Kent at precisely 11 o'clock TODAY and comply with every order we give you, or else you will see this picture in the 'Daily Prophet' and 'The Quibbler', not to mention on every telephone pole in Britain! HAHAHAHA!
Hugs and kisses,
Sirius'
Draco sat still in terror. He couldn't move or speak. If that picture got out, he'd be ruined! And he had no doubt at all that Black would be as bad as his word. He gulped.
"What is it, Draco?" Narcissa persisted.
His brain numb and frozen, Draco looked at her and mouthed wordlessly. Finally, he said the first thing that came into his mind.
"Screw you!"
-
"I knew it would work," Tonks said smugly from the front window, where she and Sirius were watching a thoroughly miserable Draco slouching down the drive.
"You go, girl," Sirius said, and he and Tonks high-fived each other.
Remus rolled his eyes at their juvenile behaviour and opened the door, smiling at Draco. "Hello, Draco. Come in, please."
"Out of my way, werewolf," Draco snapped.
Sirius made a noise like a buzzer. "No! Wrong! Unless you want EVERYONE to see you singing the teapot song, you be nice to Remus!"
"Sorry, Professor Lupin," Draco mumbled resentfully. He looked around the living room and longed to say something about its cluttered, slightly messy appearance, but decided not to. It was bound to tick Black off. So he turned resentfully to his mother's cousin and demanded, "What am I doing here?"
"You're going to help us give Ron a makeover," Sirius beamed. "For the wedding."
Draco couldn't help himself. "He's getting married? To the Mudblood?"
Sirius, Remus, Harry, and Tonks all made buzzer noises. "Keep your insults to yourself, Dracipoo," Sirius smirked.
Draco whirled around to face Tonks, red with rage. "YOU TRAITOR! You told them my NICKNAME!"
"Well, I don't recall you ever being nice to me when you were little. Or ever, really. It's fair payback," Tonks smiled sweetly.
"Shut up, Nymphadora!" Draco retorted.
"YOU DIE NOW!" Tonks screamed, lunging for his throat with her long nails. Sirius and Remus grabbed her just in time. At the same moment, the doorbell rang. Harry hastened to answer it while Tonks struggled to get at Draco's neck.
It was Ron. When Harry opened the door for him, his best friend whispered, "Er - are Sirius and Remus at it again?"
"No," Harry smiled. "Tonks is just trying to murder Draco."
Ron's eyes widened. "Draco? As in Draco Malfoy? What's HE doing here?"
"You'll see, I expect Sirius would rather tell you," Harry said, leading Ron inside. Ron gulped nervously.
Tonks had been restrained and successfully subdued. She and Draco were sitting on opposite ends of the couch, looking away from each other. Harry was forcefully reminded of Sirius and Snape. Remus and Sirius were crammed together in the big armchair. Remus was sitting on Sirius' lap and squirming uncomfortably every once in a while. Shuddering, Harry and Ron ignored the blush on Remus' cheeks and the naughty grin on Sirius' face, and sat down.
"I know you're all wondering why I asked you here," Sirius said. "I always wanted to say that!"
"But we all know, well, except for Ron," Harry said.
His godfather's face fell. "Oh, right." He cleared his throat. "Um - well then, Ron, I've invited you over for a very important reason. We're going to give you a makeover!"
"Y-y-you're going to - What!" Ron asked, hoping he had heard Sirius wrong.
"Give you a makeover," Sirius repeated, slowly and patiently.
"I need one?"
"God, YES!" Sirius blurted. Draco sniggered appreciatively as Ron flushed and Remus smacked Sirius upside the head.
"Er - I mean, it might be fun," Sirius said lamely.
"Then what is Draco doing here?" Ron demanded with an angry glare in the blonde's direction.
"Easy, Weasley. I'm high quality. I'm here to make sure these... uncouth ... people don't flub you up too badly."
Ron winced at the sound of that as Sirius seized him by the arm and dragged him into the kitchen, where a variety of lethal-looking things were scattered all over the counters. He allowed himself to be seated on a stool and Tonks draped him in a sheet. Ron felt rather like he was at the barber's; or, more accurately, in a chamber of tortures.
"Ummm... Sirius... d'you know what you're doing?" Ron asked nervously as Sirius ran a hand through his waist-length hair, studying the random things laying on the counters.
"I'm good at this, you'll thank me when I'm done," Sirius replied, picking up a strange steel instrument and studying it critically.
"Sirius... is that an eyelash curler!" Tonks demanded.
He apparently decided to ignore that. Draco sniggered as Sirius turned back to Ron and said airily, "I'm good with makeup. Just you wait and see."
Remus, who was perched on the counter with a book entitled 101 Beauty Disasters And How To Fix Them By Magic, looked up. "The thing about Sirius is he was a glam rock fan as a teenager." He eyed his lover as Sirius grabbed Ron by the chin and tiled his head this way and that, trying to see Ron's face from all angles. "He used to wear makeup every day. And I mean every day."
"You never complained when I left lipstick smears all over your collar," Sirius mumbled absently, shaking his hair out of his eyes and sighing softly at Ron's freckles.
"He nearly gave poor Minerva a heart attack when he walked into her class wearing spangly purple eye shadow."
"And when I got out of detention that night, you couldn't keep your hands off me," Sirius said. "I looked hot, admit it."
"Please, let's not discuss this," Harry begged, while Draco looked revolted. Ron wanted to nod, but Sirius had his chin in a vise-like grip and he couldn't move his head at all.
"What bleaches out freckles?" Sirius asked Tonks in despair.
"Buttermilk - no, lemons - um, one or the other, I'm not sure which," his cousin confessed.
"Dammit! Draco, do you know?"
"I don't have any freckles to bleach," Draco said smoothly. "Ask Weasley's mother."
"D'you want some of this?" Sirius snarled, holding up a compact of hideous green eyeliner. Draco's mouth snapped shut and he shook his head, eyes wide with fear.
"Then do shut up. Remmie, what does it say about freckles in that book?"
"Nothing! It mentions something called spattergroit, of which I have absolutely no idea what it is, and the cure's absurd - something about standing naked in a barrel of eels' eyes -"
"I HAVE NOT GOT SPATTERGROIT!" Ron shrieked, wrenching his jaw free of Sirius' grip.
Everyone stared at him. He was fuming.
"Touch-ee," Sirius said, rolling his eyes. "All right, all right - Tonks, sweetie, run out to the nearest Muggle market and get some lemons, lemon juice, and buttermilk. Oh, and one of those little lemon-shaped bottles with the lemon zest-drink-stuff in it. We'll try it all."
"And avocados!" Remus called after Tonks as she seized her purse and disappeared around the corner. Her bright blue pigtails hadn't even fluttered out of sight before her head popped back into the kitchen.
"Avocados?"
"Yes, dear! An avocado paste is supposed to be wonderful for your skin - at least, that's what Mother always told me," Remus said. "Hurry, now, run along!"
Tonks saluted and ran out the door. Sirius, meanwhile, had seized a washcloth and was now scrubbing Ron's face vigorously with soapy water. Ron spluttered and coughed out bubbles. "S-S-Sirius! STOP IT!"
"You need to look nice," Sirius said determinedly, still scrubbing.
"It's called exfoliation, Weasley," Draco said, rolling his eyes. He leaned against the counter, eyeing Remus, who was feverishly tearing through his book.
"Nothing!" he cried in despair, throwing the book down. "There's no cure for freckles!"
"Maybe we should try the spattergroit thing," Sirius muttered. He tossed the washcloth into the sink in disgust as Tonks returned with a bugling paper sack in her arms.
"I think I got everything you wanted. They didn't have the lemon-zest-drink-stuff, though, so we'll have to make do with what's in here. By the way, why did you want it? It's not good to use on Ron's face."
"I wanted to put it in my margaritas," Sirius mumbled. "Okay. Draco, Remmie, we need a hole."
"A hole?" Remus asked in confusion, while Draco mumbled, "I'm so not digging a hole, you pouf."
"I heard that," Sirius growled, seizing Ron by the arm and dragging him out into the rather large garden behind the house. He pointed to a large patch of bare grass. "We need a hole. Right there!"
"Why?"
"Because I'm going to give Ron a mud bath."
And so Remus and Draco were forced to dig a hole for Ron. It wasn't very hard, seeing as it didn't have to be exceptionally deep, and they used magic to do it, but Draco glared at Sirius the whole time and imagined hitting him over the head with the shovel in his hand. While they dug, Harry and Sirius magicked the dirt from the hole into a large tub and mixed it with water to make a lovely, thick batch of mud.
"Okay, Ron, come here!" Tonks said brightly as this was going on. She emerged from the house carrying a plate full of sliced cucumber and a large bowl of green paste. "It's time for your avocado facial! Take off your shirt."
Ron really didn't fancy any of this, and if he could be sure Sirius would never find him again, he would have bolted. But Sirius was like an annoying younger sibling; always hanging about and causing misery. He was even worse when he wanted something, and not just sex or alcohol. Ron knew very well that resistance was futile, so he took off his shirt and allowed Tonks to begin smearing his face and neck with the truly revolting-feeling paste. It stunk to high heaven.
"Done!" Tonks and Sirius both proclaimed at the same time. Ron winced at the feel of the goo on his face and eyed the vat of mud and the empty hole apprehensively.
"Go on then, hop in," Harry grinned, trying and failing to hide his amusement at Ron's avocado-smeared face.
"In my clothes?"
"No, stupid! Get undressed first!" Sirius said impatiently.
Ron's eyes widened in shock and he shook his head hard enough to send small gobbets of green goo flying from his face. "No way, uh-uh! You can't make me! I refuse!"
Sirius' dark blue eyes suddenly turned pure black. "Get in there or I will undress - you - myself."
"Okay, okay! Please don't hurt me!" Ron begged. "At least turn around first!"
"Gladly," Draco murmured as they did so. After checking to make sure none of them were peeking, Ron undressed quickly and jumped in the hole.
"Okay, I'm in! Don't look!" Ron yelled.
"I'm not," Sirius muttered with his eyes closed, feeling his way over to the vat of mud. "Okay, on the count of three - one - two -THREE!"
He pushed the vat over, sending mud cascading into the hole and over Ron. Ron shrieked like a small girl as the mud covered him. It was cold! He was terribly afraid that he would end up buried, but when the last of the mud stopped dripping from the vat, his head and neck were still goo-free. Well, almost. He was still smeared with avocado paste.
Tonks placed a folded towel behind his neck. "Lay your head back, Ron, and close your eyes." Ron did as he was told and felt something heavy placed on his eyelids.
"Hey, what is that!"
"Sliced cucumber. We'll be back in an hour, we have to go figure out a recipe for a freckle-bleaching potion. Relax, take a nap or something."
Ron sighed as he heard their footsteps go up the garden path and then the screen door swing shut. This was going to be the longest hour of his life.
Five Hours Later
"...But if we already used the avocado paste, then we don't need the buttermilk?" Sirius asked slowly.
Draco rolled his eyes and heaved a sigh of impatience. "For the billionth time, Black, yes. After his facial we'll try the lemon juice. And if that doesn't work, too bad. He'll just have to be a befreckled groom." He turned away from Sirius and muttered, "And if Granger runs away from him screaming, serve him right." Ignoring the reproving glare this earned from Tonks, Draco slouched against the corner and scowled his hardest, waiting for Sirius to start asking more stupid questions.
But while Sirius was still struggling with this new concept, a shout was heard from outside.
"SIRIUS, YOU FRIGGING POUF! I COULD KILL YOU! AND WHEN I GET OUT OF HERE, I THINK I WILL!"
"Weasley calls," Draco smirked as Sirius looked up at the clock, winced, and ran out into the garden. The others followed at a more leisurely pace, just in time to hear Sirius moan, "Oh, shite."
"What is it, love?" Remus inquired.
Sirius, kneeling by the mud bath, and Ron, now with the cucumbers off his eyes, glared up at him. "The sodding mud's dried up," Sirius snarled in response.
"Oh, no!" Remus cried despairingly, dropping to his knees and rapping his knuckles against the top of the bath. Sure enough, the mud which had been so nice and gloopy five hours earlier was now dried back into dirt, firmly encasing Ron in the ground from the neck down.
"You put him in the sun," Draco pointed out dryly. "And in case you forgot, Britain's in the midst of a heat wave. It's ninety degrees outside today."
"Get me out!" Ron wailed unhappily. "It's hot in here! And this goop on my face feels really crusty and unpleasant!"
Harry felt a pang of sympathy for his best friend and dropped down on one knee to console him. "Don't worry, Ron. We'll get you out of there... w-won't we?" he said, this uncertain last directed to his godfather and Remus, who were supposed to be the responsible adults here.
Draco smirked widely. "Weasley's mum will kill you when she finds this out," he informed Sirius, who attempted to bite him. Draco shrieked and jumped behind Harry to shield himself. Harry pushed him away in disgust and got up, brushing grass from the knees of his trousers.
"What now?"
"We'll have to dig him out," Sirius said grimly, picking up one of the enchanted shovels.
Ron spluttered. "What! Sirius, I'm not wearing anything!"
"Look. Either we can dig you out and you can bear us getting a glimpse of your neither regions, or you can stay there in the ground for the rest of your life with crud on your face, and Remmie can use your head as a garden decoration. Which one shall it be?"
"Digging," Ron whimpered pathetically.
"Good boy."
-
Two hours later, Ron had been freed from the mud bath and allowed to take a shower to remove the dirt and avocado paste from himself. Scowling, he was now dressed in his boxers and Harry's bathrobe, being forced to stand as Sirius, Remus, and Draco studied him critically.
"You can't go on wearing what you wear," Sirius instructed him. "I mean, the sweaters your mum knits for you are all fine and dandy, but you are in desperate need of new shirts, trousers, shoes - and accessories, of course."
"Accessories?" Ron asked warily.
"You know, belts, jewelry, stuff like that. To add a little personality to the outfit, you get it? Anyway, I'm going to fetch some of my best clothes and you can try them on."
Ron shuddered as Sirius ran off. Today the older man was wearing skin-tight bellbottom jeans, an equally tight black t-shirt with the legend 'Born Wild' on it in pink glitter, three-inch platforms, and had his long hair pulled back with a glittery pink scrunchie that exactly matched the glitter on his shirt. Under ordinary circumstances, there was no way in hell Ron would have willingly worn anything that came from the depths of Sirius' wardrobe; but right now he was just feeling too bloody tired to argue. He tried to ignore the sniggers he was getting from Draco over his Pokemon boxer shorts and waited apprehensively for Harry's godfather to return.
And return he did a few minutes later, dragging an enormous cardboard box. "Okay. The stuff might be a little musty; I haven't worn most of the lot since I was nineteen or so - oooh! I love these pants!" He proudly displayed a pair of hideous bellbottoms striped in different shades of blue and green. "I missed you!" he said to the bellbottoms, hugging them tight. Everyone else in the room twitched, even Remus' family in the picture over the mantle.
"I - am - NOT - WEARING - THOSE - THINGS," Ron stated.
"What's wrong with them?" Sirius pondered. "Okay, they need to be washed, and there's a Clark Bar wrapper from 1979 in the pocket, but they're still good! They're still good!"
"No offense, Sirius, but they're ugly," Harry said, gently prying the blinding trousers from his godfather's grasp. He stuffed them under a sofa cushion so nobody had to look at them anymore. "We all appreciate that you're trying to help Ron, but I don't think Hermione wants him to dress too outrageously."
Ron nodded. "Yeah, I don't think she'd like those - on me, I mean. On you, I'm sure they're... just gorgeous." He and Harry avoided looking at each other lest they be tempted to burst into giggles.
Tonks saved them the trouble. She started giggling as she pulled a bight yellow t-shirt out of the box and looked at it. They all looked at her questioningly until she held it out to them. On the front was a picture of a man - at least, Ron thought it was a man - with blue hair, blue eyeshadow, and sliver lipstick. Sirius snatched the shirt away from Tonks and hugged it.
"Maxwell Demon! I love this shirt!"
"Please, don't wear it with those pants!" Harry blurted, absolutely terrified at the prospect. Sirius pouted, but before he could say anything Remus had plucked a plain white dress shirt from the box and was holding it up to Ron. He looked questioningly at Draco.
"Too nerdy," Draco snapped.
Remus put the shirt aside and held a maroon pair of bellbottoms up to Ron (Ron shuddered).
"Too... promiscuous."
(Sirius beamed.)
An orange turtleneck sweater.
"Too ugly..."
Brown dress trousers.
"Where's the blazer with the leather patches?"
A green vest and navy trousers...
"Too tacky..."
-
"AAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGHHHHHHHH!"
Sirius flung down the last article of clothing with a bloodcurdling scream. He glowered at Draco and blew a stray strand of hair out of his eyes. "Okay. You've rejected every piece of clothing I own and every combination we can come up with. According to you, Ron can't wear anything without looking stupid, tacky, or slutty. So, Mr. I-Know-All-About-Fashion, tell me. What does your ideal man wear!"
Draco beamed. "I thought you'd never ask, Black." He scooped up an armload of clothes. "Wait here," he ordered, before disappearing into the bathroom.
The others sat silently. Ron was trembling. Everything he had been through in life - the random encounters with Lord Voldemort at Hogwarts along with Harry; the few days when everyone had thought Sirius had been dead; even asking Hermione's parents for permission to marry her, paled in comparison to what he had just seen. Sirius' clothes were uglier than Hagrid's beloved Blast-Ended Skrewts.
"Okay, here I come!" Draco called.
And he entered the room. Ron's eyes bugged out. Draco was wearing what looked like the maroon bellbottoms, but they were leather and matched the vest he wore – unzippered, with nothing but a long-sleeved fishnet, low-cut top underneath. His hair was, of course, perfectly gelled, and Ron thought Draco was wearing make-up, but had to look away before he could be sure. To make matters worse, the pants were tight enough that you could probably see Draco's physical characteristics from Mars. Without a telescope.
It was even scarier seeing Sirius' ugly clothes on Draco than it was to see them laid out on the floor.
So Ron did the only thing he could do.
He fainted.
-
While the boys-plus-Tonks were trying their beauty regimen on Ron, the girls had decided it would be the perfect time for some hard-core wedding shopping. Hermione fiddled with her seat belt, buckling and unbuckling it nervously. With dumbfounded expressions plastered on their faces, Lavender, Parvati, Katie, Alicia, and Luna looked on. Ginny wondered faintly if a love of speech-making was a communicable disease and Percy had somehow transmitted it to Hermione. "Remember," the bushy-haired girl intoned firmly, "I chose you as my bridesmaids… and this is the one matter that really concerns you all… so we have to take it very, very, very seriously… are you listening to me?"
Ginny's eyes were crossed, Alicia kept shooting longing looks outside, and Katie was examining her own engagement ring, which was the size of a rather large bolder. Lavender was studying her pink nail polish for chips, and Parvati was re-braiding her long, fine hair. Luna was staring into space, per usual.
"Um, Hermione?" Angelina asked from beside her. She looked left and right and switched on her blinker. "Could you lighten up a little bit? You're scaring us, and it's just some bridesmaids' dresses-"
"And a wedding dress," Hermione cut in testily. "For when I get married."
Angelina sighed and stole a quick look at her fretting friend; Hermione was chewing her bottom lip. "Look… it's only a stupid dress."
"That's easy for you to say? You got married in jeans!"
Parvati dropped her hair and nudged Lavender, who looked up from her nails. "The bride's getting a little nervous now that the date's set in, isn't she?"
"Mm," Lavender murmured in agreement, looking down again. "I wonder if sequined nails are too extravagant for a wedding…?"
-
A half an hour and four Hermione-speeches later, Angelina maneuvered her parents' slightly beat-up, very dented mini-van into a narrow parking spot in front of Belinda Bouvier's Bridal Boutique. All the girls piled out, Hermione looking calmer than she had been on the way down. Lavender jabbed Parvati in the ribs with her elbow and the two dissolved into peals of laughter at the lingerie store next door. "That's where we're going to get your shower present!" Parvati squealed.
Angelina shook her head and led Katie, Ginny, Alicia, Luna, and a very pale Hermione into the store, leaving Lavender and Parvati cackling on the curb.
"This place is… large…." Ginny, eyes wide, gazed out at a sea of dresses: long, short, white, polka-dotted – Belinda's seemed to have it all. Alicia squeaked.
Luna seemed to come down to earth. "I've never seen so many ribbons… or bows… or so much lace in my life!" Katie raised her eyebrows at Luna, who was wearing a considerable amount of lace herself.
Lavender and Parvati, still giggling, moved in beside Luna and shrieked with delight. "Shopping!" Parvati grinned. "You're lucky to have the experts with you." Lavender nodded.
Ginny ran a hand through her red waves and sighed. "Where do we start?"
Rolling her eyes, Lavender pointed to the left. "That's where I go. Parvati takes the right. We meet back here in," she glanced at her watch quickly and held a silent conversation with Parvati's eyes, "two hours with a dress we like. We can find the wedding dress after that!" She and Parvati were positively glowing with excitement.
"I know! Let's synchronize watches!"
Alicia turned to Parvati and growled, "It's only a shopping trip, not the Army."
Parvati glared back. "This is more important than the Army. They wear those God-awful fatigues… and this is real fashion!"
"No, it's a stupid dress," Alicia shot back bitterly.
Lavender went to retort, but was interrupted by Katie, who stepped in between them, holding her hand up to the light. "Isn't this ring gorgeous!" she exclaimed, diffusing the potential argument with something perfectly pointless.
Luna tapped her chin. "You could use that to feed a third world country…."
"Two hours to shop?" Ginny squirmed.
Angelina plunked herself in a chair and whined, "I still don't see why we need dresses…."
"Watches!" Parvati sang irritably.
Hermione could feel a headache coming on – coupled with the weird dancing-stomach feeling she seemed to get now whenever the wedding was mentioned.
-
So in the end they ended up synchronizing watches, despite Angelina and Alicia's vehement objections. It was, as Ginny pointed out, the smart thing to do – otherwise Parvati and Lavender would shop for hours and hours. As it was, the girls took well over the allotted two hours to meet in the procured section; Lavender and Parvati insisted on dancing to the soundtracks for both Footloose and Grease, swearing up and down that it helped them concentrate on shopping. Angelina, Katie, and Alicia, despite groans from Ginny and Luna, warbled a badly-sung version of "Girls Just Wanna Have Fun", which ended abruptly when Blair, stand-in for Belinda, threatened to boot the girls from the shop and they could "have fun" elsewhere. Lavender and Parvati were halfway out the door when Hermione half-heartedly reminded them that there was no other decent wedding boutique for miles around.
And so it was with a heavy heart that Hermione watched her bridesmaids re-assemble before her, each hiding what they had found behind their backs – or rather, in Luna's case, trying and failing miserably due to the bulk of the dress. She was apprehensive to see what they had chosen – especially Lavender, who was shaking her head furtively in Parvati's general direction.
"So," Ginny leaned back into the rack of dresses behind her… and immediately jumped up, poked by sequins and what she thought was a fake flower. She wondered why they had chosen to hang in the half-price reject-disco aisle; and then it dawned on her that the styles were ninety years old and they wouldn't be bothering anyone by lounging over ancient leisure suits that had probably been revamped for outdoor hippie weddings.
Lavender squealed. "I call last!" Ginny glared, and Lavender shrank back: "Well I don't have to be…."
Angelina sighed and shrugged. "I still say we should walk down the aisle in jeans. It's not like it matters much what we wear…."
Parvati looked scandalized, but before she could say anything, Ginny broke in. "Look, should I show you my idea first? It's fairly tame…." And from behind her back, Ginny pulled out the most hideous dress known to man – er, woman.
Ginny, who at the moment was wearing a short red skirt and pink t-shirt, was anything but fashion-challenged. In fact, though she hated to shop, her style rivaled that of even Parvati's. Which is why everyone was equally shocked by the frock Ginny pulled to display to the group.
Angelina gasped at the high neck; Alicia gasped at the drop waist. Luna gasped at the lacy cuffs, and both Katie and Lavender gasped at the fabric – off-pink polyester. Parvati gasped at the boring hem, and was indeed the only person who would even think of gasping at something as trivial as a boring hem – and Hermione… well, Hermione just gasped.
"It's so… boring..." Hermione cried in dismay.
"Well, I was going for traditional."
Parvati clucked her tongue and leaned into Lavender. "I think traditional is right. That's left over from the God-awful colonial era." Ginny huffed.
"Don't worry, Alicia and I will save this monstrosity!" grinned Angelina, and together they pulled from a nearby rack a (carefully hidden) cream pantsuit. The top was edged with lace and beads, and the bottom tapered off into tasteful cuffs; Parvati and Lavender ohh'ed and ahh'ed over the design. In fact, it would have been downright beautiful – had they not overlooked one tiny little detail.
"Guys, I told you I didn't want pants!"
Alicia and Angelina visibly deflated.
Hermione tried to rectify her mistake. "Look, guys, it's gorgeous… and normally I'd say I love it… but this is a big deal, and I wanted dresses…." She looked down into their puppy-dog eyes and shook her head. "No! Luna, may we see your pick?"
Luna hesitantly glanced behind her back. "I don't know… promise not to yell at me?" Hermione nodded slowly, and Luna, grateful not to have to hide the dress any longer, let it poof from the confines of her back.
"It's like a fairy princess dress…" Luna explained as the girls collectively took in the long bell sleeves, full and pouffy; the low-cut top and tight, fitted bodice; the long, tapering skirt that hugged the legs and flattered only the tiniest of girls, which Luna and Ginny, but no one else, were. She shrugged and laid the dress down. "I dunno, I just thought…."
"It actually had potential. I like this blue a lot… and the top is fairly nice." Coming from Angelina this was high praise. "Maybe we should see the others and put this one aside for now."
Hermione nodded in agreement and turned to Lavender and Parvati. "Your turn, guys."
"Wait! Ours have to be seen on a person… give us a second and we'll have them on." Hermione sighed as they skipped to the dressing rooms, but true to Parvati's words, they took less then thirty seconds before they unveiled themselves.
"Ta-da!" Lavender twirled and struck a pose; Parvati leaned against her and smiled seductively, a la 'model'. "What do you think?"
Hermione, to say the least, was in shock.
Ginny caught her before she fainted. "Er, Lavender? Isn't it a little… short?"
'Short' was an understatement. Lavender's partiality towards high-cut dresses had been taken to a new level; cut at least a foot and a half above her knee, Alicia could only shake her head at the indecency. The fire engine-red top was fairly respectable – which was more than they could say for Parvati's dress.
It was a well-known fact around all of Hogwarts that Parvati was… well-endowed… and liked to show that off. She had also taken that to new heights. With a top cut below her belly button, Angelina noted that she looked like a sad cross between Britney Spears and J.Lo.
A very sad cross.
"Risqué, huh?" She grinned.
"My ass!" Immediately everyone turned to Hermione, who they had never heard swear in such a high voice; Ginny put an arm around her and Hermione shrugged it off. "You're turning my wedding – which, by the way, we are holding in a chapel – into some kind of Hooters strip club!"
Katie backed into the sea of polyester dresses and Parvati muttered, "Hooters is quality family dining."
No one knew quite what to say. Hermione, though usually very calm, could get hysterical now that her wedding was approaching. Slowly, Ginny cast a sidelong glance at the older girl and turned to Katie, ignoring Parvati and Lavender's hurt looks. "Katie, can we see what you picked out?"
"No, I… no." She once again retreated to the sequined rack.
"Let me see." Ginny held out a hand.
"No."
"Yes." With the scariest evil eye she could muster, Ginny motioned for Angelina and Alicia to converge on a wide-eyed Katie; from behind her they dragged a long, pouffy sea foam green skirt and a strapless top that tapered in front.
No one spoke for a moment. Then—
"That's the dress. It's not low-cut, the bottom is decent, it doesn't cover up everything, and it's pretty. Does anyone disagree?"
No one dared say a thing to Hermione – except for Angelina, who squeaked, "Can we use the blue and the top from Luna's dress?"
Hermione just nodded faintly and traced the silver embroidery with a finger; she was downright creepy sometimes when she was angry.
-
Hermione, laden with shopping bag after shopping bag, trudged into the house she shared with her fiancé. She and the girls had, after bickering, numerous fights, and one escapade in which Lavender and Parvati had threatened to streak in the middle of the exchange of vows, finally chosen the design and material her wedding dress would be made out of. Luna, surprisingly, had helped in the design, modeled after some fantasy comic book she apparently collected, coupled with what the "Queen of Snorlak, Daddy says there's actually a planet called that but astronomers deny ever finding such a place" would wear on her 125th ceremonial crowning. Whatever. All Hermione knew was Luna was a fashion genius (albeit a rather flighty one), and Katie, after exclaiming over and over how wonderful her ring was, had picked out the most lovely fabric in the store.
Hermione had made one other decision: she was going to the florists' alone. Or maybe with Harry; after all, he sometimes had nice taste. That and he wouldn't threaten to flash anyone. Hermione wasn't sure whether to sigh or grin.
Ron poked his head from the kitchen, covered completely from head to toe in a black trench coat and ski cap. Hermione guessed he wasn't thrilled with the results of his makeover, but was much too tired to ask; she just shrugged when he tried to kiss her through his fabric; the mouth hole was somewhere near his nose.
"Hello to you, too," he mumbled.
She just sighed again and plopped onto their secondhand couch; Ron plopped next to her, and she laid her head on his shoulder. "It was a long day, okay?"
He nodded empathetically. "Don't I know it." She guessed he was sweating under those yards of black, but didn't comment. Sometimes Ron was just weird, and there was nothing she could do about it.
"How'd the treatment go?"
"They tried to bleach my freckles," he moaned. "But Sirius couldn't quite grasp what Draco was saying, so I think they abandoned the idea after they left me in a vat of mud for hours on end and thought about having me stand naked in a barrelful of eels or something like that."
Hermione frowned. "Poor baby… I like your freckles."
"At least someone does," he muttered, while Hermione tried to kiss him, remembered the stupid ski mask, and just snuggled closer. "D'you want to see something else?"
Ron took off the trench coat and gestured down towards his black button-up shirt and khaki cargo pants, which Hermione thought were perfectly nice and very un-Ron (but that was a good thing, she noted: very, very good). Apparently, Ron wasn't as pleased with the result as she was.
"Well, I'm not Draco's 'ideal man'-" (Hermione shuddered) "-but he said I looked 'hot'." Hermione raised an eyebrow and Ron held up his hands. "Okay, so it took him a few minutes to reassure me that I didn't look as good as he did, but I swear he said that. And no, before you ask, I am not taking off this cap."
"Fair enough." She was too tired to argue. "But I think you look hot, too."
Ron grinned. "Thanks. It means more from you than coming from Draco."
"I should hope so!" He reached to peek in her shopping bag and she swatted his hand away. "You can't see the fabric for the dress until the day of the wedding." He sighed and sat back; he might have been smiling.
"Okay then, can you tell me what you didn't pick?" That technically wasn't breaking any laws of wedding-hood so Hermione snuggled back into him and nodded.
"Well, I put my foot down at pants, like Angelina wanted."
"Like at her wedding?" Hermione nodded and Ron chuckled. "Go on."
She fingered a button on his coat. "Um… I won't be going as a Puritan or a nun."
He turned to face her. "Ginny's idea? She was always one for total all-covering weddings."
"Yeah, I know." She smiled and wrapped her arms around his waist, head on his chest. "Well, I won't be wearing a top that falls past my waist and a bottom that's higher than my hips."
He didn't say anything for a moment and then turned to Hermione again; he smiled seductively, or about as seductively as you could while wearing a ski mask, and tried to wiggle his eyebrows. "I'd like to see you girls in something like that. Parvati's hot."
In no time flat Ron was on the front porch and the door was locked.
It had been a long day, and she was sick of men. He could sleep at Harry's.
-
Upcoming attractions….
Ch/5: A Box Full of Sharp Objects – Ginny, acting as a good maid-of-honour, plans to give Hermione "the best wedding shower ever". Things go downhill when Ginny finds out the "best shower" costs a lot more than she intended. While the engaged couple open gifts, Ginny ropes Harry into a hare-brained scheme to get the money….