Disclaimer: Again, me no own. If I did, I'd be richer than the Queen...
Chapter 3
Blaise was still laughing when she reached the new girls' dorm. When she entered the new girls only common, she began to laugh harder at how silly the assembled girls looked. All of the girls had taken to wearing 'rebel with a cause' clothing under their school robes, but since a lot of them were purebloods (who would never wear less than two layers of clothes) or bookworms/nerds, they didn't quite pull it off. Instead, they looked like little girls playing dress-up with their mommy's' clothes--or just victims of bad fashion.
"This is the fashion police, hands up in the air and strip! You have do not have the right to remain clothed. Any clothing you do possess will be confiscated and evaluated-and eventually burned." Blaise said, in an authoritative kind of voice. She then began to get critical, big time. "How in the world can you wear THAT? It clashes horribly with your pants, hon. That shade of red with your hair color? Uh, uh. Where have you been hiding that thing? In the sixties? Those pants have GOT to go. That style went out a looong time ago, luv. Purple streaks in that type of hair? And that broad? And an all purple leather ensemble? You'd be lucky if you didn't look like a grape! Whoa! Where's my pair of sunglasses?! That red lipstick is way too bright for your coloring. You all need professional help- desperately." Parvati and Lavender were pissed off with the blonde; after all, they consider themselves to be experts in fashion.
"Well, then Ms. Snooty-Faced-I-Know-All-About-Fashion, what should we do?" demanded Lavender, icily. Blaise smiled sweetly at the brown-haired girl.
"First of all, I suggest getting your head checked. Second of all, I suggest you get professional help. Third of all, it's Ms. Snooty-Faced-I-Know-All-About-Fashion And-I-Can-Kick-Your-Arse-Anytime-I-Want. Capeesh?" she replied, in a sweet but venomous voice. Lavender bristled, though a bit intimidated by the other girl.
"And just who is your expert?" she demanded, daggers shooting from her eyes.
Blaise rolled her eyes, irritated at how dense the other girl is. "I already called my expert. And here he is now! Ladies and Sluts (I especially mean you, Brown.) I would like to introduce you to...Draco Malfoy! Yay! Three Cheers for Draco! Hip Hip Hooray! Hip Hip-" said Blaise but was cut off by Draco.
"Thank you Blaise for that...interesting...introduction. My, my! Blaise was right! You all need help, desperately!" said Draco, observing the now horrified girls.
"What are you doing here?!" shrieked Hermione, blushing like crazy. He grinned, wickedly, before replying. "Why, getting photographs for our documentary!" he replied cheerfully. He watched as all of the girls began to scream in righteous outrage, laughing maniacally.
"Who gave you permission to take pictures?" Ginny demanded. Draco smirked, smugly, at the irate girl.
"Why, the Headmaster, of course!" he said, amused. "Dumbledore said it was a good idea, so we are going to document this war!" Hermione glared at him but he wasn't quite affected by it. After all, he was the King of Glares. After Professor Snape, of course.
"And how do we know you won't betray our secrets to the boys?" she demanded, coldly.
"No need to worry, Granger. Blaise and I are neutral in this war. She'll know everything I know and vice versa, so you don't have to worry about your precious secrets," he replied defensively. Hermione sighed and gave up.
"Fine. I hate to admit it, but Blaise is correct. However, if I find out that you leaked, Malfoy, you are going. To. Regret. It. Is. That. Clear?" she said, punctuating the end of each sentence with a jab in his direction. Draco gulped, all to clearly remembering the times when she had slapped him.
"Crystal," he replied, sweetly. He then became businesslike. "Weaselette! If you want to wear red, wear a shade that is really dark. I mean really dark!
Almost black. Pansy, dear, you definitely fit the cliché of the 'dumb' blonde. Honestly! Combat pants with a neon pink halter? Where are your senses, woman! If you want the combat pants, wear a black, glittery halter. Go for mysterious, not ditzy! Brown! What are you trying to do?! Blind someone?! I assure you, people can see that red all the way from London! Try a deeper, sensual red; not a stop-right-there red! Granger! If you want to keep those pants, slit the sides and lace them with blue ribbons. If you don't want to, get rid of them! Lovegood! Either have purple hair or purple shirt or purple pants, not all of them at the same time! Do you want to be mistaken as a human grape? No? Than lose the clothes!" He began to look over their wardrobe, tossing things left and right. "Are you trying to make a statement? Look the same, yet different? If so, go for low-riding jeans and a halter. It doesn't matter how it's cut or what color it is, just wear the same type of clothes, but add your own flair. Do you understand?" Everyone nodded, stunned at how precise he was. "Now then, I should get going. I'm probably missing something very important. Ta ta!" he waved good-bye and sauntered out the door. The silence was broken by Blaise, who didn't even notice it.
"Well, now that that's over, how 'bout some chocolate?" she said, cheerfully. They noticed that there were a lot of wrappers littering the place and stared at her fearfully. A hyper Blaise Zabini is not a good thing-or was it? A light bulb went off in Hermione's mind. She beckoned to Blaise and smiled sweetly at her.
"Oh Bla-aise!" she said, innocently. "Do you have any ideas on what we should do to the mean, nasty boys?" Blaise frowned, before responding.
"Mean, nasty boys? Where? Do not despair! Blaise Zabini is here! We must punish those bad, bad boys! I wonder how they would react to having donkey ears and tails," she mused, cackling evilly. Hermione grinned, elated, at the idea.
"You are a genius!" she crowed. "Now this is what we will do. Strike before they do! First, we'll need some volunteers! Ginny? Great! And a second one? Lavender? Perfect! Now this is what we will do."
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