Hey everyone! This is my second fic and I promise it will be better than my first (which I never finished) because I actually planned this one!
Disclaimer: I own nothing, I swear!
- Starstruck
Chapter One: The Bet
"Hey Draco!" Blaise said happily as she entered the room and gave her long time pal a hug.
"How's it going, Blaise? Up to the same old mischief?" Draco retorted, in a good mood as he led her into his large apartment. It was elegant and stylish, with a modern edge to it. Everything seemed cold and hard, yet strangely inviting.
"Yeah, same old, same old. I'm still with Brett. The lazy bum wants me to move in with him. Men," she said, scoffing, and sitting down on the gray couch.
"Hey, watch it!" Draco said, half laughing.
"Oh, c'mon. Now who's the lucky girl right now? Is it Patrice, Patty? What was that girl's name?"
"Perry, and no, we broke up about three days after I saw you. I am currently single."
"Amazing! But for how long, I wonder..."
What's that supposed to mean?" As usual, Draco and Blaise had begun their get together in the usual way, with playful banter and teasing. Their friendship was very strong, for they had been pals all throughout Hogwarts. Their chemistry seemed like more than a friendship, but they had tried dating years ago and it had never worked out.
"Oh, nothing..." little did Draco know, Blaise had a trick up her sleeve planned out for later.
"You want a drink or something? Beer? Soda?" Draco headed towards his lavish kitchen, which was part of the living room.
"Beer would be great." Pause. "How's your comic store doing?" Draco owned a comic store in Diagon Alley.
"Great, fine, whatever. It's been dragging a little lately, but what can you do. I just got another shipment of comic books based on this muggle comic book called "Superman". Sounds okay. Maybe it'll be the beginning of a rise in business. How's the Prophet?" Blaise worked as a reporter for the daily prophet and loved it.
"It's going great! I think I'm starting a piece on the hottest stores in the Wizarding World. Maybe I'll put a sentence or two in my article on your store. What's it called again? 'Comic Books Plus' or something?" She smirked, knowing very well the name of the store but loving it when Draco said it. He walked over and gave her her beer.
"'The Crazy Comic Cave,'" He said with gritted teeth. "And I don't care what my mother says, I'm changing the name as soon as I think of a better one." Draco's mother had insisted on naming the comic store, she was so proud that 'my Drakie' had started his own business.
"Awww! Twenty-two years old and still mama's little boy."
"Shutup." There was a short silence, then those dreaded words,
"Hey, you up for a game of wizard's chess?" Blaise smirked ruthlessly. She and Draco were extremely well matched in their chess skills.
"Oh god, bets again? I should have had one ready for you..." It was a tradition for the two to play a game of wizard's chess and bet on the game. Not with money, but with something torturous or humiliating. Just the time before, Draco had won, and Blaise was not allowed to bath for a week. Needless to say, he did not see her at all that week. He only received an owl the day the bet was over, saying nothing but, "all clean!" Draco usually spent some time thinking about a good bet before she came, but he had forgotten. He wondered what embarrassing trick she had waiting for him.
*$*$*$*$*$*$*$*$*
Two hours later, the game was still going strong. Beer bottles scattered the table they played on, their perspiration sitting on the glass, all that was left of a bowl of nuts was the salt, and Draco and Blaise were both in deep thought. Light music that neither seemed to notice played in the background.
"Whose turn is it?" Blaise asked, knowing it was Draco's.
"Gimme a minute, okay?" Draco's disposition very quickly declining, and he felt the game slipping away from him like water in a strainer. Blaise watched him with a twinkle in her eye, and she began to smell the sweet scent of victory. Draco made his move. It was a feeble one, but it would give him some time to think of his next. Or so he thought.
"Checkmate." Blaise smiled happily and did a victory dance around the coffee table, sipping her third beer.
"Damnit!" Draco was really pissed, and not exactly being a good loser, stormed into the kitchen for another beer.
"Oh, come off it, Draco, it's just a game," Blaise said, trying to wipe the grin off her face before entering the kitchen, but having no luck.
"Yeah, just a game that if I lose, I have to do something incredibly humiliating which you have probably been planning for days."
"Exactly!" Blaise smiled, then seeing that Draco was not in a good mood at all anymore, added, "Look, I'll be easy on you this time, okay sweetie?" She mocked, in an overly motherly tone. No response. Draco turned around and faced the other way. "Oh, we're going to be like that, huh?" She slowly walked around him.
"Sod off!" Draco snarled, but a smile began creeping up his face. He desperately tried to hold it back.
"Oh pwease, pwease, pwease don't be mad at me!" She cooed in a baby voice. "Let's have some fun. You want to make some pasta and chicken? I know it's your favorite..."
"You are so annoying! Fine. We'll make pasta and chicken. But I don't have to like it." But he was smiling now as she was.
"You're such a child."
"So are you, miss 'pwease, pwease Draco!' Now get out the chicken before I begin to pout again." So the two twenty-two year olds bickered happily as they made Draco's favorite dish, pasta with chicken.
*@*@*@*@*@*@*
A Few Hours Later...
Draco and Blaise lay on Draco's couch sleepily, both full of pasta. It was about 9 PM, and they still had a few hours left in them. "I want to show you something. It's a present." She slowly got off the couch, for she was a little tipsy for all the beers. Good thing witches don't have to drive (A/N: I wonder if drinking impairs apparation skills. Just a thought). She took out her wand, went to he door, and opened it. "That should do," she muttered. Then she raised her wand and said, "Accio television!" It took a few minutes before a whishing sound ensued. A large black box with knobs flew into the room and landed softly in front of the couch. It seemed to have a screen like the muggle computers Draco often saw. "This," she said, "is a television. You watch programs on it." Draco stared at her dumbly. He may not have been speaking, but what he was thinking was, What the hell??!! Finally he actually expressed his feelings verbally. "What the hell?!?!" Blaise realized that this was going to take much more explaining than she thought. "Look, it's like a form of muggle entertainment. You watch show on it about different stuff, like sports, or funny comedies called sitcoms, stuff like that. It also plays movies, which are longer, about two hours. Of course I enhanced it so there are no commercials and all that-" "Where did you learn all this stuff? Television? Movies? Commercials?" "Didn't you take any muggle studies courses at Hogwarts? This stuff is incredible! You should really take a look at it." "I refuse to watch disgusting muggle crap like this! It is trash! I can't believe you would actually go as low as to using any muggle inventions!" "I just thought you'd want to try it out!" Both were yelling now. "I'm coming back when you are not so clearly drunk and pissed off! I will owl you about your bet and I hope you find it miserable! Good-bye!" And with that, she grabbed her purse and stalked out of the apartment, slamming the door shut. Draco could just barely hear her voice as she said, "Apparate!" from the hallway. He sighed heavily and slumped back on the couch. *^*^*^*^*^*^*^* When Draco woke up the next morning he realized he had fallen asleep on the couch. He had a throbbing headache and felt like crap. He felt a tapping sound ringing in his ears. He sat up slowly and pushed his head on both sides. The tapping remained. Then he realized it was not coming from his head, but from the window. He sat up slowly, still clutching his head. The remains of last night's chess game were on the glass coffee table, and Draco groaned. Blaise. He had to write to her and apologize, as much as he hated being wrong. Then he saw the "television" in front of him. He groaned again. "Well, first things first," he muttered to himself as he went to the window. There he found not one, but five owls tapping on his window and none of them were his. What the hell? He thought (again), and opened the window for the five birds. They swooped in one by one and all dropped separate pieces of parchment onto the coffee table and floor. Then all left but two. One was the owl that delivered his Daily Prophet, and he gave it a few coins from his pocket and it flew away. The other just sat. Draco picked up the Daily prophet and put it on the kitchen table, then picked up the four remaining letters. One he could already tell was from Blaise; her handwriting distinct and curved. The other three seemed to be from the same person, but he did not recognize the writing. These letters had the numbers one, two, and three written on them in a tidy scrawl. He decided to open the letter from Blaise first, as it would have his bet enclosed. Dear Draco, I stand by my opinion that you need to be more open to muggle inventions. After all, they live in this world too. That is why I have chosen your bet accordingly: you must go on a blind date with an acquaintance of mine. I'm sure you two will have a great time. You need some loving anyway. She will be owling you with the details. Love, Blaise P.S. No hard feelings on our fight last night, k? I like you anyway, despite your stubbornness. I am putting your store in my article. It comes out tomorrow. Draco sighed in relief and ran his fingers through his hair. He decided to write her back quickly before he looked at the letters that he presumed were form his date. Dear Blaise, I'm sorry too. Thanks for understanding. I guess this date won't be too bad, I am grateful for you going easy on me. I might just try out that television after all. Sincerely, Draco P.S. Next game of wizard's chess I am going to beat your ass. He finished writing his letter and went into his room where his owl, Trinity, sat perched in her cage. He took her out and tied the letter to her leg. "Get this to Blaise, okay Trin?" He went to the kitchen and gave her a piece of bread before he took her to the window. She flew out gracefully and Draco closed the window. The remaining owl would be there for a while. Draco crossed to the coffee table and picked up the letter labeled "one" in bright orange ink. Dearest Drakie (is it okay if I all you that, Drakie?), Blaise has told me all about you and I can't wait to meet you. She said you were very lonely and that you loved muggle entertainment. Well I thought that was just so neat, because so do I! Love muggle entertainment, that is. Well I decided right away that I wanted to meet you. So Blaise just owled me last night about finally getting to meet you and that you were interested and I was totally excited. My cat Priscilla was excited too. She is really a darling, my cat. She's orange with a bit of white, and-Hey! My pen is orange! –But anyway, I'm not writing you to talk about my cat. I was thinking we could get together tomorrow and see the new muggle movie, "Dangerous Times in Chicago New" with Hermia Grant. Have you heard of her? She is the rising star of muggle movies, oh she is wonderful! So anyway, it's playing tomorrow at 6 so I was figuring we could go to the movie and then eat after, or we could go eat and then go, or, well, there's just so many possibilities! So just owl me as soon as you get this and we can chat about what we want to do and such. Toodles!!! Your Date, Perpetua Periwinkle Draco finished the letter in astonishment. He sat for a few moments, unable to think. This was going to be a disaster. He tried to control himself. He started to write a rant to Blaise, but stopped. That was just what she wanted. It's only one date, only one date, he thought to himself. One torturous date. Nothing to do about it now. He picked up the second letter and began to read. Hi again! Guess who? It's me! I was just sitting here with Priscilla, thinking about our date, and I wondered what should I wear? So I want to ask you: do you think this is more of a formal date or should I just wear some jeans or something? I don't know, well, what are you going to wear? I think wearing nice clothing makes a good fist impression, I myself usually wear a skirt on a fist date, but I've never been on a blind date, you know, and I wasn't sure if there was any sort of dress etiquette. So if you think of anything, just owl me. Toodles!! Waiting for your reply, Perpetua Periwinkle What an airhead! How can I go out with someone who can't even stay on a topic when writing! Draco thought. He picked up the third letter dismally and read. Perpetua again! You don't need to owl me about the clothing thing, because Priscilla and I just got back from the muggle shops. It's called Bloomingdales where we went, and it is FAB! Well, we go t some skirts some shirts, this little cute black dress with the- And that's as far as Draco got, because he could not stand to read the trash any longer. He took a few deep breaths and calmed himself. This was going to be the date from hell. He took out a quill and some parchment and wrote: Dear Perpetua, I would be happy to meet you at 5:45 in front of the theatre for the movie. We can go to dinner after at a restaurant I think you will like. I will be dressed nicely. I hope that answers all of your questions. Fondest regards, Draco Malfoy And with those words, Draco sealed his fate.
How'd you like it? Please read and review. On another note, I hate HTML! It doesn't format my writing correctly. If anyone knows what's going on, please tell me. It is quite aggravating and I have tried everything. Thanks!