The older man looked at them oddly then noticed Blaise was holding a pen in a threatening manner. He turned on the engine to the Porsche and backed out of the drive-way. Draco was sitting in between Harry and Ron brandishing a fountain pen at Ron who looked ready to pee himself.
So it went that they kidnapped Ronald Weasely.
They arrived to a shopping district and Draco ushered the two out of the backseat, Blaise left the front seat slowly, still brandishing the pen at their supervisor, "Good day, Mr. Snape."
Snape just gave him a worried look and drove off.
"What's going on?" Ron looked at the other two purebloods.
"We're fixing you," Blaise said.
"You're cutting my balls off?" Ron screamed he tried to bolt but Draco caught him.
"No, we're giving you a make-over," Draco assured him.
"That's almost worse," Ron glanced at Harry, "save me?"
"It was his idea Ron, it'd make me a happy Italian," Blaise stuck his bottom lip out and adopted the look of a sad puppy.
With a groan Ron let them lead him down the lane.
"Try them in this wash," Blaise said holding up a pair of faded jeans.
"They're tiny!" Ron took them and held them to himself, "they'll look painted on!"
"That's the point, Ronald. You have to learn to wear clothes that fit you not all your brothers and maybe your sister," Blaise said.
"I can't really be blamed for those clothes, can I?" Ron slung the pants over his arm.
"I suppose not, however, I will kill you with a pebble if you challenge me on any of this."
Ron looked rather scared and then glanced at the pen Blaise had in his pocket, it was obviously still a threat.
"Okay," Ron consented and turned to go back into the dressing room littered with pants. To one side were the "no's" and to the other the "yes's." In the "yes" pile were six pairs of blue jeans and four pairs of black jeans which Blaise had decided work very well on the red head. A pair of leather pants and some shorts accompanied them. Draco had even protested to his signature fabric on Ron but Blaise had brandished the pen and no one said anything more on it.
"What are your thoughts on these?" Blaise showed him a pair of pin strip trousers.
"They're nice, if we have a formal event I could wear them," Ron reached out to take them into the dressing room with him.
"I have some things," Draco came out of nowhere with several pair of casual trousers in black and gray.
Harry was searching through a pile of dark jeans for Ron's size as per instructions from the pen wielding Italian. He glanced up and saw Draco's bum facing him. It was a shapely thing that was really rather large for a white guy. It matched his persona though- a little- not really, it was just fun to look at.
"Those are nice," Blaise commended them and allowed Ron to try them on as well.
Harry yanked a pair of pants from the stack and walked to the dressing room Ron was using. He showed the pants to Blaise for approval before chucking them up over the top.
"Oi!" Ron exclaimed as the pants hit him.
"Sorry mate," Harry called without meaning it.
Ron grumbled something that sounded a lot like "die in a ditch."
Blaise turned sharply to the door as the bell tinkled signaling someone coming in. Draco and Harry glanced over and saw someone they didn't know so they continued digging. The boy, who appeared very proud of himself, gave them a disgusted look and turned to the salesperson.
"Good afternoon, I was hoping to shop here," he said in a holier-than-thou voice.
"Of course, can I help you find anything?" she asked.
"Not really, but I'd like you to clear out the riffraff as quickly as possible and ask them to stop pawing all the merchandise," he gave Harry a particularly disgusted look. His entire demeanor reminded Harry distinctly of a younger Draco Malfoy.
Blaise and Draco held their tongues but passed annoyed looks. Ron stepped out of the dressing room, the pants he had on were a little too tight and he proved this by trying to raise his leg, which didn't go up far at all. "These won't work," Ron waddled over to Blaise, turned around, still waddling, and went back towards the dressing room.
"True, but your arse looks great," Blaise said pensively.
"Gee, thanks," Ron closed the door behind him.
The boy at the front wrinkled his nose and turned to the salesperson expectantly. "I can't ask paying customers to leave the store," she said.
"Then you'll be loosing a high paying customer," he snapped.
"Ah!" Ron made this noise from within the stall. The other three wizards gathered around and watched him come out in pants a little baggy. "They're roomy!" He sounded quite delighted.
"We can allow you one larger pair, I guess, but," Blaise warned, "don't think you'll get any more."
Ron nodded and returned to the stall.
"Peasants," the boy sneered. Draco had his back turned to the boy but Harry could see his deeply pissed off expression.
"Sir, would you like to look around the store?" the woman asked him.
"Sure," he pranced over to the other side and began looking at some dress trousers.
"He's rather like you," Harry whispered in Draco's ear after he'd wandered casually over to the blonde.
"Like I am around most persons you mean? He is, but he's not so well bred as I," Draco said and looked over at Ron who'd come out in another pair of pants. Blaise stuck out his tongue and blanched at them.
"Horrible, take them off," the Italian said and Ron disappeared again.
"Move," the boy had come over and shoved past the Harry and Draco to go into a changing stall.
Harry grabbed Draco to stop him from throwing a punch at the egoistical boy. He glanced over his shoulder and inspected Harry for quite a moment. "I know you," he said after making Harry very uncomfortable.
"How?"
"You went to primary school in Little Winging didn't you? I went there as well, weren't you the boy Dudley Dursely always pushed around?"
Harry nodded and tried to place the bratty boy but could not. This wasn't surprising, he didn't know anyone from school. It was surprising that someone knew him though.
"You've shot up like a weed," the boy said.
"Yeah," Harry nodded. "You look like you've grown a bit since we were ten."
"Didn't you get sent to St. Brutes?" He asked with a disgusted look.
Harry glowered a little but nodded, that was what Vernon had told Aunt Marge and Dudley had told mostly everyone else.
"They actually let you freaks out?" he looked a little scared of Harry.
"For the summer, yes," Harry nodded. Ron came out of the stall and looked down at the boy a few inches shorter than he.
"Are these your criminal friends? Trying to steal trousers? Pitiful," he sneered. It wasn't a fifth as good as a Malfoy sneer.
"You're a git," Ron said, "he's kind of like you Malfoy, but uglier."
"Harry was just saying that," Malfoy said.
The boy scowled, "I'm no git. My name is Orlando Kilk though I'm sure you remember me from our youth."
Harry knew the name, barely; the kid was one of Dudley's mortal enemies. As Dudley was a bully, this kid was one too. He didn't use violence, just words, taunts and dirty looks. Orlando was a complete prat and not an evil one either, just annoying. Evil was one thing. Annoying was another entirely.
"Unfortunately," Harry admitted to remembering him.
The boy smirked triumphantly, "I wouldn't expect to see St. Brutes' boys here in the Nester Shopping District, too high class for criminals."
"You know," Blaise spoke with a light Italian accent, "a bunch of us criminals are really just rich kids with too much time on our hands until we inherit everything from our parents."
Orlando gave him a skeptical look, "I highly doubt you're a rich kid."
Draco crossed his arms, being the richest heir in the world, he didn't really care about proving anything to this kid. However Blaise liked to have his fun. Blaise pulled out a wad of hundred pound notes. "My money," he assured the other boy with a creepy smile.
"How do I know you didn't just sell a few dime bags to get all that?"
"How do you know what a dime bag is?" Blaise raised his eyebrows.
"I have friends who do drugs," the boy said defensively.
Blaise chuckled low and leaned in so his mouth was millimeters from Orlando's ear. "I've probably sold your friends drugs. I was sent to St. Brutes for trafficking you see. Mum and Dad don't like their wild child," he licked the ear and brushed past the frightened boy to a shelf.
"Y-you, I-" Kilk gave him a shocked look.
"Oi, Orlando, why don't you just run on home to mummy and daddy?" Ron asked.
"I-"
"Dammit if you don't just go the hell away," Draco snarled.
Blaise whirled around and slid his arms around Kilk and smiled creepily again, "don't be mean, I like him. Might be good with my collection of… 'friends.'" Blaise said with air-quotes included.
Kilk looked dead frightened now and he dropped the trousers he was holding and backed away slowly.
"Go on," Blaise hissed and blew him an air kiss.
Kilk rushed from the store leaving a nervous sales woman watching them.
"Darling we're nothing of the sort," Blaise assured her, back to his light, flippant self. He turned to Ron then looked at the pants, "I like those quite a bit more."
"Enough pants," Ron said once he'd changed, he picked up the hefty "yes" pile and dumped them on the counter.
"Fine, kill my happiness," Blaise pouted but paid the woman. She bagged the clothes and was thankful when they left.
"On to shirts!" Blaise nearly skipped across the wide lane to an expensive vintage shirt store.
It took the four and a half hours, some fancy handling and a lot of effort but they finished giving Ron a make- over. "Dinner time," Blaise said cheerfully as they arrived back at 4 Privet Drive in a cab.
"Sure," Ron started grabbing bags from the trunk. They got everything and went inside.
"Oh, it's the freaks," Peers looked at them. He did a tiny double take on Ron.
The shaggy red hair that had obscured his eyes was cut back some. Highlights were scattered through and the ends were colored black. Blaise had convinced him to get his ear pierced, twice, and he was awarded a black stud to wear. They'd all gotten their nails done, for Blaise and Draco it was maintenance, but for Harry and Ron (both biters) it was reconstruction. Ron got his nails painted orange for the Chudley Cannons.
"Oh, it's the idiots," Draco greeted them.
"Watch what you call my friends," Dudley stood up and shook a threatening fist at Malfoy.
"That a threat, whale-boy?" Draco asked.
"No, it's a-a warning," Dudley said.
"Yeah," Malcolm said, supporting his leader.
Draco rolled his mercury eyes and set down the bags he was carrying.
"Is that you, Potter?" Petunia walked in and spotted the Malfoy heir. She smiled at him, batted her lashes and then eyed him in a less than appropriate way.
"Yes, Aunt Petunia, we're back from shopping," Harry said, feeling a little defensive of Draco.
"Are you eating dinner here?"
"No, we're meeting Jack and Dutch at the Shopping Centre to eat at the Food Plaza," Ron informed her.
"I see," she sounded slightly disappointed and then turned as though to speak to Draco.
Harry moved over there before she spoke and slid an arm around the blonde. "Are you and Blaise going to choose Ron's outfit?"
"I expect he can, but I won't argue if you still take me upstairs," Draco said as though it were the most normal thing in the world.
"No!" Ron stood in the doorway, "we're going for dinner and I don't want to be near you two when you're trying to grope each other in the wake of a snog session."
Harry smirked but didn't push the subject.
At the Shopping Center they saw Dutch and Jack sitting at a large table flicking scraps of paper at each other.
"Hey!" Ron called to them. Immediately they both did a double take and gaped.
"Ron?" Dutch blinked a few times as the freckled boy seated himself.
"Yeah?"
"Did Blaise attack you with a bottle of fashion?" Jack asked, tugging on some of the black tipped hairs.
"Yeah, I guess that's what he did," Ron nodded.
"I thought," Jack started, "we could go to a local band's concert tonight in a little club not far from here," Jack jutted a thumb in the general direction of the club he was talking about.
"What band?" Blaise asked as he swung himself around to sit next to Dutch.
"They're called Jet Stream Ending, ever heard of them?"
Blaise looked to Draco and spoke in Italian, "We saw them a few months ago in London, damn good show."
"What club was that at?" Draco asked.
"By and By," he supplied.
"Did we see them on a Friday in April or a Saturday in May?"
"Saturday in May," Blaise answered.
"I liked them," Draco nodded.
"Me too," Blaise nodded back and spoke in English. "We've heard of them, saw them a while ago, they're good."
Jack looked between them briefly but nodded, "It starts in an hour so we can eat and then go over and talk to the band before they start their set."
"Yeah, I used to go with the drummer, Jason," Dutch said. "We're still friends and, Jack, the rest of the band, and I, are pretty close."
They nodded and then sent Harry and Ron to get a pizza from one of the shops.
"Do you lot know what classes you're taking?" Jack asked.
"Basics, an elective and a language," Harry said. He and Ron planned on taking Spanish, Blaise was going to take German and Draco was taking Latin though he claimed not to need to.
"Cool, anyone taking Spanish?" Dutch took a large bite of pizza.
"Yeah, Ron and I," Harry answered.
"Good, you can hang around with Jack and I," Dutch gave his approval.
Ron grinned and polished off another slice of pizza. The boys ate and chatted until someone gasped loudly from behind them. Draco and Harry and Jack turned to look over the shoulders to see Orlando Kilk and a group of guys standing there. These were the same boys who had been outside the café a few weeks ago smoking light cigarettes and trying to prove they were tough guys. Draco'd put them in their place.
"You again?" Draco sneered at him.
"I can't believe this," Orlando wrinkled his nose at them and guys behind him shot annoyed glances at Harry and Draco.
"Can't believe what?" Jack asked. He knew Orlando, rat bastard. This guy liked to think of himself as the greatest male in England. He strutted around the school bashing the skater kids and their music and sneering at everyone. Kilk was supported by an infrastructure of idiotic guys who played cricket and lived in the larger houses on West Mulberry Avenue. They liked to think of themselves as the cool kids because they dated the girls with short skirts and too much eye make-up.
"That those criminals are here, at a respectable shopping centre," he snapped, glaring at the four.
"What criminals?" Dutch frowned.
Kilk looked surprised that he didn't know but became delighted at causing a rift between the friends, "These guys are from St. Brutes."
"Oh," Jack shot a glance at his companions. Harry shrugged and watched Draco spear an olive from his slice.
"Do you remember," Blaise stood and walked around the table so he was face to face with Kilk, "what I told you?"
Kilk swallowed hard and leaned back to get farther from the creepy Italian, "Eh, uhm, I."
"I still think," Blaise gave him that weird smile, "you'd be a fun 'friend' to have."
"Let's go," Kilk said and tried to leave quickly.
"Scared, Orlando?" Blaise drew out the name in a bit of a hiss.
"Not of you, no," he said automatically but it was easy to tell he was lying.
"If you are," Blaise looked him directly in the eye, "don't come near me again." His voice dropped to a hushed whisper, "It's all I can do to keep my hands off you."
Orlando put up an arm to shield himself if Zabini made a move and rushed off. Draco covered his mouth to keep from laughing until they were far gone.
"Crazy bastard," he said and then laughed again.
"You what?" Dutch looked at him.
"I have no interest in that wanker, don't worry," Blaise said and sat down again. "He's not my type at all."
"Are you guys really from St. Brutes?" Jack asked.
Draco, Harry, Ron and Blaise all exchanged looks, "Yeah, we are."
"Why didn't you mention it before?"
"Didn't think you'd like convicts for friends," Ron said with a shrug.
"What are you in for?" Jack asked him. "Is that a rude question? Sorry, I didn't know," he babbled.
"Don't worry about it, he was sent for just being impossibly bratty," Blaise said, "I got sent for drug trafficking," he said with a hint of pride.
Ron glowered but realized he wouldn't have thought up a good reason to be at St. Brutes. Dutch looked at Draco, "Oh, my da's just not fond of me and my habits."
"My relatives hate me," Harry supplied without being asked.
"Oh, that's a bummer dude," Dutch said, imitating a surfer. They laughed and moved on to conversation about Stonewall.
"Is it a nice school?" Ron asked.
"If we're not too hung over tomorrow we can go walk around campus," Jack said.
"That sounds nice," Harry approved. He and Ron were on track for the licenses, even if the other two purebloods were failing miserably. That meant he or Ron could drive them to the Upper School during the year. Blaise and Draco had taken to referring to the two Gryffindors as chauffeurs.
"Come on, the concert is soon," Dutch stood and crumpled up his napkin.
They found the club without any trouble. It was a squat building with an overhanging roof. It was formerly a restaurant called the Lucky Squirrel as Jack informed them. Inside, a stage was set up and a boy, with a neon pink Mohawk, was strumming a bass, testing amplifier levels. He looked up and waved at Dutch and Jack, he strummed two more notes then set the instrument aside and jumped off the stage. A small crowd was gathered around the bar talking to a girl with silver and magenta hair in leather corset.
"Danni, these are our mates from driving school," Dutch hugged him and then turned to the four wizards, "that's Draco, Blaise, Ron and Harry."
"Hey," he nodded to them and grinned, the piercing in his lip glinted.
"Danni's the bass for the group," Jack added and then he turned over his shoulder and whistled. The silver haired girl perked up and looked over someone's head to see Jack, her boyfriend. She leapt over the counter and threw her arms around him.
"This is Natalie, my girl," Jack said with an arm around her waist. Danni stuck out his tongue, which was pierced, at the couple.
"You two are sickeningly cute," he blanched.
"Shut up," Natalie smacked him hard on the arm. Blaise smirked, feeling too quite and shy for his own good.
"Nat, you beating up the band again?" a man, at least seven feet tall and about as thick as a chair leg, appeared from seemingly no-where.
"No," she shot him a look, "these are Jacky's and Dutch-Boy's friends," she motioned to the four, "Draco, Blaise, Ron and Harry," she repeated the names dutifully though she couldn't match the names to the faces, technically. Her instinct told her the foreign names went to the prettier, more foreign looking boys, the blonde and the Italian. Theoretically Blaise, the more Italian name, went with the olive skinned guy. Draco, which sounded more yuppy and rich, thusly went with the pale blonde who definitely looked raised in a wealthy manner.
"Hey, I'm Caleb, I own the place and bar-keep," he shook their hands and jabbed a thumb at the bar.
"OI!" a huge group of people came in, forcing Natalie to remove herself from Jack and go with Caleb behind the bar to serve drinks. Danni blew them a kiss and flung himself onstage as three more guys came out from the wings.
Natalie, a cunning girl, kept an eye on the new guys to make sure they didn't get in trouble with the rowdy regulars. She was nice enough, flawed in many ways, but nice enough. A brutish older fellow kept ordering a scotch on the rocks though he had no money to pay. He pounded the countertop and demanded his drink. Over her shoulder she told him to put his pounds down and she'd get it to him, serving a blonde girl a martini in exchange for a gold coin. He refused to pay her, due to the service, and she refused to serve him, due to the pay.
Draco and Blaise got a pair of vodka shots, lit up their Magic Blacks and turned to hear the band as the bass rumbled through the small cement club.
Arr me mateys, I apologize fer the wait on this 'ere chapter but I've been a bit busy with meh other ships and then I been a bit lazy. Arr, I'm a pirate! I've lowered the ratin' on this here ship from "M" the "T" cause there's really not any "M" content in here. Maybe someday, but not right now. Oh, Jack and Natalie are datin' she's not gonin' ter be that important, just sort o' there. I hope that sedates yer worryin' aboot a mary-sue.
En the 6th book it says Blaise is black…and that isn't really Italian now is it? But, for all intents an' purposes (not porpoises) he's an Italian.
Blaise: Dammit, I am Italian…I'm black in some ways though :nudge nudge wink wink:
Captian Slashy :Chuckles: Well, I knew that.
The first mate, Anime Monster, has been wondrous in helpin' this ole sea-dog keep the ship headin' ter port. :waggles eyebrows, implying another meaning for "headin' ter port":
Draco: Damn pirate wench.
Captain Slashy: Scurvy rascal.
Draco: You offend me.
Captain Slashy: Yer face offends meh but yeh don't hear meh complaining aboot it do yeh?
Draco: That's a damn lie and you know it. You're in love with me.
Captain Slashy: Maybe I am, maybe I'm not.
Harry: Stop being immature and get away from Captain Slashy, without her we'd never see what happens at Stonewall.
Draco:grumbles: I'd better get a lot of sex for this.
Harry: Captain?
Captain Slashy: I'll see what I can do fer yeh, maybe a drunken snog but I'm not jumpin' the canon on yer love fest.
Harry: Thanks so much.
Draco: Die in a hole full of cheez-wiz.
Harry: Do you know what chees-wiz is?
Draco: Yes! I saw a bottle-can-thing in the Cold Box of Death yesterday.
Harry: That's a refrigerator.
Draco: You're a refrigerator!
Captain Slashy: ARR:chases them both away:
Anime Monster:to Blaise: I wouldn't mind finding out how "black" you are.