Ah, here it is, the long-promised and -awaited (hopefully) Hot Pink High Heel Story. It took me a while to get out, what with babysitting my cousins for the summer and spending time with my father (who I hadn't seen since February) the two weeks before that, then visiting my fiancé for another two, and then school started. And now midterms are coming up. But it's done! And I wanted to get it posted before midterms, since I won't have time to work on anything for quite a while. Again.
I'm pretty sure J.K.R. made it clear in her last book that Blaise Zabini is a guy, but I'm not sure. And before that it was pretty fuzzy (I've seen both male and female written), so I decided to take advantage of that, since I like the idea of Blaise and Pansy being evil women and plotting against poor Draco. And why are you guys still reading my inane ramblings?! Get to the freaking story already!
Thanks to everyone who reviewed 'A Very Thin Line.'
The Hot Pink High Heel Story"Yeah, he is pretty hot, isn't he?"
"What?" I blinked, tearing my eyes away from the vision across the great hall. Pansy leaned over to whisper in my ear, trying to be heard over the murmur of conversation and the clank of cutlery against dishes. Why was she always invading my personal bubble? Her breath was warm against my neck, making me shiver. And not in a good way, might I add.
"Harry Potter." She jerked her head towards where Potter was sitting with his little Gryffindor friends, laughing as Granger berated the Weasel for stuffing too many potatoes in his mouth. "I can see you watching him." Ugh. She was still there. "You want him."
"Potter?" I pulled away, snorting lightly to dismiss her accusation, as well as the cloying scent of her cheap perfume. "Not likely."
"Yeah huh. Sure." Damn her. Pansy wasn't the fastest broom in the shed, but damn that women's intuition.
I felt my cheeks flush at her knowing smile and turned my eyes down towards my plate, where I made sure they remained for the rest of the meal.
-----
That evening I found myself in a corner of the Slytherin common room surrounded by a couple of friends and a few more than a couple empty bottles of fire whiskey and butter beer. Somehow. I don't even know how it happened. All I know is that when she whines, Pansy can be very convincing.
Crabbe and Goyle had long since passed out (the traitors) leaving only Theodore Nott with me in the clutches of Blaise and Pansy; Merlin knows, they're dangerous when they're together, especially when there's alcohol involved.
Blaise had her nose scrunched up, looking like she'd just caught an extraordinarily potent whiff of Pansy's perfume. "Of course I've never fantasized about Snape!" She shuddered violently. "That's just so wrong!" Pansy was giggling uncontrollably, and even I had to smile a little bit.
"All right, no more truths!" she ruled after getting control over herself. "Someone has to choose dare! Are we Slytherins or Hufflepuffs?"
Blaise nodded in agreement, leering at me, "And I do believe it's darling Draco's turn. What could we make him do, Pansy dearest?" She twisted a strand of long, auburn hair around one of her perfectly-manicured fingers.
The blonde smiled, pretending to think. The bottle of butter beer she held resting on her knee was tipping dangerously close to spilling. "Well…"
"For fuck's sake, Theodore!" For the past ten minutes, a very drunk Theodore had been trying to slide his hand up Blaise's uniform skirt, only to have her slap it away time and again. But she had finally had enough of that. I liked to stay on Blaise's good side; she had one hell of a right hook. And ouch, that was going to bruise.
"You know," I drawled, amused at watching Theodore sulk off to the boys' dormitories, "it would have been easier to use your wand."
"Yes, perhaps," she replied, eyes flashing, "but not nearly as satisfying."
"How very muggle of you." Blaise glared at Pansy, but she was really too far gone to notice. "Anyway, where were we?" she continued. "Ah yes, a dare for Draco." She giggled suddenly, clapping her hands. "Oh, I know! Potter!"
Blaise and I looked at her expectantly while she took another drink. "And?"
"You," she looked at me, pointing an unsteady finger, "have to proposition him."
I stared, disbelieving, as Blaise grinned widely and Pansy broke down laughing again. "No!"
"Come on, we all know you want to." Blaise was trying to talk over Pansy's giggles. "I'd be surprised if even the Brainless Trio hasn't already figured it out."
"No! Absolutely not!" I shook my head in embarrassed denial. I couldn't even imagine what something like that would do to my reputation. "I refuse! Anything but that!"
Pansy's giggles abruptly cut off. "Anything?" Two sets of eyes lit up and a feeling of dread flooded my entire body.
Oh, this was going to be bad.
-----
I looked at the hot pink monstrosities Pansy was holding. "You've got to be kidding me."
She threw the strappy stilettos at me. "Nope."
Lounging in a fat green armchair, Blaise stated pointedly, "Well, Draco, it's either this or…"
Ignoring two identically gleeful grins, I groaned, slipping the ghastly things on my feet, and tottered out of the common room with somewhat less than my usual grace.
Evil whores.
-----
Despite popular opinion, Prefect rounds are not much fun. Add to that teetering around Hogwarts in hot pink high heels, and you've got yourself a highly unenjoyable evening.
It really wasn't going too badly, considering. I hadn't fallen, although I wobbled plenty, and I hadn't come across anyone. Yet. Because, you see, as soon as those thoughts finished darting through my head, my self-satisfied feeling disappeared as those thrice-damned shoes caught on a ridge of one of the floor stones.
And I fell flat on my face.
I opened my eyes, which I'd scrunched shut as I crashed to the ground, and saw that my nose was almost touching a pair of black shoes. A normal pair of black shoes, which I would have given anything to be wearing right then.
I scrambled back to my feet with an alarming lack of dignity, only to come face to face with none other than the famous Harry Potter.
No string of curse words would have even approached adequate for what I was feeling in that moment.
"Malfoy?"
"Potter." I straightened my robes, and desperately hoped they were long enough to cover my feet. "What are you doing out after hours?"
He ignored my question, eyes darting down to the unbelievably eye-catching fuchsia. "Nice shoes."
I could feel my cheeks flushing a shade that probably rivaled that of those things on my feet. "That'll be 50 points from Gryffindor and a week of detentions with Professor Snape for breaking school rules."
He smirked. "Oh, I don't think so, Malfoy. You see, if that's the case, I may have to go tell the entire school about your adventures in drag…"
My eyes narrowed. "You wouldn't."
Harry just lifted an eyebrow, then turned and walked away, chuckling lightly to himself.
Note to self: Hurt Pansy.
The memory of Harry's laughing face danced in front of my eyes.
Badly.
Well, there it is, guys. That was fun; poor Draco. If you wouldn't mind, drop me a quick review, just to let me know whether or not it stood up to expectations. Thanks! And I hope you enjoyed.