Please, please provide more CONSTRUCTIVE CRITICISM! I don't mean to be a wench, but please...do me a favor. Enjoy this next section. And review your ass off.
Liannimation
Ch. 9: A Quite Frivolous Chapter
Cho was rudely awakened.
"Cho, get up!"
She groaned and batted at the air.
"Cho! Come on, class starts in ten. Move your arse."
Cho really considered skipping classes that day, but she thought better. Seeping out of bed, she quickly dressed and freshened up. She still smelled of pond water.
"How'd it go last night?" Madeline asked as the two of them hurried to their first class.
"I'll tell you later," she said, yawning. She wasn't quite sure what to tell yet, "So what about you and Amita?"
"I'll tell you later," And they trudged into class.
This situation made it difficult for everyone. Madeline sulked, Amita snarled, and Cho ended up the highly irritated messenger. And screw the actual lecture—note-passing was vigorous today.
For the first time ever, Cho considered Divination a relief.
"Amita," she stated firmly as they settled down in the smelly classroom, "I cannot keep doing this. It's simply juvenile! Just apologize."
"I am not apologizing."
"You must!"
"No."
"You're an absolute head-case."
"I'm fine with being an absolute head-case. I'm not apologizing."
"You can't be angry at someone for something so trivial! Madeline didn't even know. If you'd have told us, this wouldn't have happened."
"Then she shouldn't have lied,"
"People make mistakes."
Amita said nothing. Cho sighed. She was spent, and very annoyed, so she stopped trying. Besides, she smelled like algae.
Today, they started their unit on crystal ball gazing. Cho believed it was pure codswallop, but pretended like she was interested. She was instructed to observe her ball closely, but before she had a chance, Professor Trelawney floated up behind her and startled her so, that Cho nearly knocked the glass sphere of the table.
"Mmm! Child, I predict that you're very apprehensive at this time in your life…" Professor Trelawney said wisely.
"Shit, I'd have never guessed," Cho muttered under her breath. Amita snorted.
"What was that?" Professor Trelawney swept to face her.
"Nothing, Professor,"
"Now, let me have a look at your destiny…give it here, give it here," she motioned madly with her bangle-clad arms. Cho pushed the crystal ball to face her. For several moments, Professor Trelawney stared thoughtfully into the ball, emitting the occasional "Hmm", or shake of the head. Most of the class was watching, bored out of their minds. Finally, she looked up at Cho.
"Child," she was uncomfortably close, and Cho grew slightly dizzy from looking at the hugely magnified eyes. "Something very new and very exciting is about to enter your life. Be wary, oh yes, prepared indeed…" and she sort of trailed off. When Professor Trelawney had swept off to her next victim, Cho snickered and whispered to Amita,
"I could write a better fortune cookie, honestly."
Amita nodded. "Get a load of this, Cho." She pointed her wand at her ball and it immediately started to vibrate and sing vulgarly.
Cho laughed, but stopped when Professor Trelawney appeared again out of nowhere, very livid indeed.
"Chang! Lahiri! This is a classroom, not a zoo!" the ball continued its crooning. "The art of fortune-telling should be respected—" she was cut off by their headmaster's booming, projected voice:
"All sixth and seventh years must report to the Great Hall for an assembly."
Cho stood up.
"Sorry, professor, but I've got to run. Continue later, I assume?" Cho and Amita hurried out before Professor Trelawney could yell at them more.
The Great Hall was crowded and chattering by the time Cho and Amita arrived. Both being prefects, they had slight notions of what awaited-- there had been talk of a senior ball of some sort. The details were quite unknown, but from what Cho had heard, it was going to be grand. Another five minutes passed, and Professor McGonagall's voice cut through clearly, producing silence.
"It has been proposed this year that there be a senior spring ball," A wave of excited voices swept the hall at once. Professor McGonagall looked peeved.
"Attention!" she barked, and the talk receded once again.
"Now," she stated clearly, "since the body of the seventh-year class is not quite sufficient for a proper ball, sixth-years are also permitted to participate." She paused. "However, no student below the sixth year is allowed to join. This event is a strict exception to Hogwarts policy, and the staff will not accept any wild behavior." Her lips thinned. "The date is set to take place on the thirteenth of May—precisely two Saturdays from today…"
Cho noted Professor McGonagall's restricted tone; it seemed she was not particularly pleased with the arrangements. On the other hand, Cho was simply delighted. This ball was certainly a specialty…and for it to fall exactly on her last year at Hogwarts, she felt blessed. It was a last chance for teary-eyes and glamour…and of course, shopping for the perfect gown. Cho glanced at Amita, and they both smiled knowingly.
Cho and Amita were on their way to Potions, both ecstatic and ceaselessly chattering.
"This is absolutely superb!" Cho exclaimed.
"We need to go looking for gowns immediately," Amita declared.
"Hogsmeade?"
"Precisely."
As they entered the dungeons, Cho was so elated that she nearly forgot to hand her assignment to Snape.
"Have a bit of a wrangle with the leeches, Chang?" Snape inquired, "I forgot to warn you about them,"
"Oh…yes," Cho said, and gave over the lily carefully.
Snape regarded it carefully. "It seems in relatively good shape, despite minor harm to the stem…Summoning Charm, I assume?" Cho nodded.
"Well, you seemed to have found the appropriate methods for achieving and obtaining it…but five points off for the damage."
"Thank you, professor." Cho was perfectly fine with a 95.
Cho convinced Amita to skip the remainder of their classes that day. The sun was brilliant, and the grounds looked perfect. They were too happy to care about their dingy lectures.
"So I never had a chance to ask you—how was this morning?" Amita asked as the two of them found a comfortable spot in the sun right next to the lake.
Cho thought a moment. "Alright, I suppose," she said, trying to sound indifferent. She wasn't sure why, but she felt guilty. "Got attacked by leeches, though."
"Ooohh…tough. Malfoy give you any trouble?"
Beat.
"No,"
"Good. He's such a wanker,"
"Yes."
Amita regarded her skeptically as Cho kicked off her shoes and socks.
"Brilliant." Cho smiled as she spread her toes in the fresh grass. Beautiful, beautiful.
Cho scampered off to practice delighted, for the weather was still superb. The Quidditch poles cast long shadows, and the air was crisp and sweet. With her broom over her shoulder she walked gaily onto the playing field and thought nothing of anything.
She was early, for it was only one of the team's Beaters, Patrick Gibbons, and a Chaser by the name of Farrell that were present and only beginning to suit up. She positioned herself in the sun and was just beginning to lace her boots, when something—someone—made her stomach lurch ever so slightly (and not in a particularly good way).
The handsome figure of Roger Davies approached her and she flinched when she thought of the terrible rumpus he had inflicted upon her friends (and herself, now that she thought of it).
"Chang," he said politely.
"Davies," she acknowledged, standing up (even if her eyes were still level with his chest). He seemed highly constricted. She sniggered in her head.
After a bit of awkward silence, Roger opened his mouth.
"It's daft, I know…but since this—my involvement with Madeline…well, I think I've really started...to fancy her,"
A little red light went off in Cho's head.
"Well, you're her friend, and I just wanted to run it over with you and make sure you wouldn't bite my head off or anything,"
She raised an eyebrow.
"Well, I'm glad that's out in the open," Cho said.
"Good," Roger said, looking pleased. He obviously hadn't picked up the tinge of cynicism in her voice. Then again, Roger had never been the sharpest pencil in the box. "I was thinking of asking her to the ball. D'you think it'll go over well?"
Not with Amita… Cho thought wearily."Yeah, yeah I think it will,"
He didn't smile, merely nodded, but Cho could tell he was immensely thrilled. More people were showing up for practice. Roger remained in his spot, but barked at the team to begin warming up. He looked at Cho.
"D'you think she fancies me?" he asked quietly, eyes bright.
"Christ, Davies. What are we, twelve?"
She thought a direct answer would do no one any good.
She was very sore. Davies had kept them at practice until nine o'clock that night, and Cho was simply exhausted. However she found her self lying in bed, unable to sleep. Instead, on her mind, was Draco Malfoy.
Why was she finding it so difficult to confess (if it was a confession at all) this little experience of hers? After all, Amita and Madeline would probably just dismiss it as simple asshole behavior. What had she to lose? She certainly did not find him appealing…in fact he represented everything she despised: the pompous smirk, the disgusting posse. He was a damn Slytherin! But that smile—that fleeting moment of understanding and tenderness—why had she found that to be so…breathtaking? She was ashamed. But he was off-limits…she was off-limits. He was a prick. An ass, a wanker, a bastard, prat, bugger, git, twat, arse, sodding idiot. Draco fucking Malfoy. And she couldn't help it.
The next two days proceeded quite blandly. Usually in this type of circumstance, Amita, Madeline and Cho would be talking it up—what were they going to wear, who was currently coupled, and who was available? Instead, Cho found Amita unwilling to speak of anything more than dresses, and Madeline had already been asked to go (by Roger, of course). Cho had planned to make two shopping trips—one with each Amita and Madeline. Surely, these bickerings were pure nonsense, and Cho was appalled that it had not yet resolved.
That Saturday, Cho was up at noon (on the nose) and woke Amita to go to Hogsmeade. They dressed lightly (for spring weather), and walked off together down the hill of the castle. The weather made them all the more giddy about the prospect of shopping, and soon the two were prancing around all the clothing shops in the small centre, all smiles. First, they browsed in the most prestigious and popular store, Madam Kay's Robes, finding nothing, then off to seven more stores. The dresses were lovely, but not what either of them were looking for—collectively they estimated they had tried on, and rejected, fifty outfits…at least. Amita was looking for something genuinely Indian, and Cho was looking for anything that was pretty (which probably accounted for the large pile of discarded gowns in each store they hit). Finally, when they were about to give up for the day, they hit upon a small store at the end of a block.
"Mary's Clothing Boutique," Cho said, reading the painted sign. The 'open' sign hung peeling and slightly askew, and the surrounding stores were questionable.
"Mmm, looks a bit dodgy," Amita said tentatively, "But let's give it a try,"
They pushed open the small, wooden door, and entered. The floor was a light wood, apparently very old, but clean. The walls were a cozy pink, edged with white moldings and antique wall lamps. Racks of gowns and clothes and hats lined the whole of the store, and the air contained a faint aroma of peppermint and lemon.
"Quite promising," Cho said thoughtfully, looking through one of the racks, "And you thought it was dodgy,"
The store was certainly unusual, for all the merchandise was distinctive and even quaint (but in the best way possible). Cho picked out a few gowns, one red, one yellow, one green. None hit the nail on the head. However, Amita found the absolute perfect outfit: a beautiful fuchsia sari bedecked with gold and shininess.
While Amita stood in her dressing room admiring her success, Cho flipped casually through a few more racks.
Ugly…ugly …too bright…ugly…slutty!...not the right size…poofy… and then a vision of pure brilliance. She grabbed it off the hangar and tried it on for size in the dressing room. It was perfect. And fabulous. She refused to show it to anybody until the following Saturday. Despite the minor anxiety attack Amita suffered from it.
And so Cho went shopping again with Madeline the following day. The air was warm, but the sun was blocked by impending rain clouds.
"So what are we looking for today?" Madeline asked as they entered their first store.
"Well…" Cho tried to put it in the right words, "I'm looking for accessories—jewelry and whatnot…a dress for you!"
"You're not looking for a dress?"
"I've found one!"
"Without me?"
Cho knew this would happen.
"I was wandering around here yesterday with Amita, and I found the perfect dress,"
"Hm,"
"Don't be mad at me, Maddie. I can't go shopping with both of you."
"…But you went with Amita first," she said, saying 'Amita' with slight disdain.
"You couldn't come. You were with Roger."
"Yes…but…"
"Well, I very well can't go out with you while you're getting your bloody oats from Roger, now can I?"
Madeline allowed a laugh.
"I suppose not. Well…what does your dress look like?"
"I can't tell you," Cho said, looking at more clothes, "Secret, mind you."
Madeline stood aghast.
"Tell me!"
"No."
"Then I'll sneak into your drawers and steal it,"
"I hid it," Cho said airily. She loved doing this. "How 'bout this one, Mad?" She pulled out a lovely yellow number.
Madeline tried it on.
"Blooming canary," was Cho's immediate response (she couldn't suppress). Certainly not a hit.
And then there were several more gowns, and several more shops. Finally, they came to Mary's Clothing Boutique.
"Ooh, you absolutely must look in here. It's a bit dodgy," Cho said, remembering Amita's comment, "But simply lovely."
Within seconds, Madeline had picked out several outfits and had scampered to the dressing rooms. The first was dark blue with an impossible number of frills. The second was bright pink, and they both agreed that it was not her color. The third was a charm. Emerald green with inch-thick straps and sweeping back, it was flawless. It was bought in a heartbeat.
It was raining. At first, a tickling drizzle, and then huge, fat droplets. In no time, the sky was near-black and thundering. To keep their newly bought possessions (and themselves) from becoming soaked, Madeline and Cho hurried into the first café they spotted. The shop was very crowded and stuffy, so the two worked their way into an empty corner. They dropped their things and Cho sat down.
"I'm going to get some tea or something," Madeline said, standing up, "You want anything?"
"Erm…just a latte,"
Madeline quickly disappeared into the crowd. Cho surveyed the shop. She spotted a few fifth-year Ravenclaws she did not recognize, several Hufflepuffs sitting at one table, and some Slytherins scattered about. Growing bored, she took the liberty of making the napkins and coffee stirrers that were on her table do tricks. Madeline was taking an awfully long time. Another five minutes, and she grew impatient. She stood up, making sure not to stray too far (in case of nasty thieves) and looked around for a sign of her friend. The crowd was overwhelming. She tried to keep out of the way, but without much success. The thunder shook the small café sending shivers down spines and spoons clattering.
"Excuse me…pardon…excuse me—" Cho was making her way to the counter, hoping to see Madeline. After squeezing her way by a particularly large person, she halted when someone who was making his way against the crowd spilled coffee all over her.
"Oh, Christ," Cho said, sighing. She didn't even bother to make a scene. However, when she lifted her head, she was startled to see the exact person she least wanted to meet at the present moment.
"I didn't see you there, Chang," Draco Malfoy drawled as he bent to pick up his empty coffee mugs, "Bloody zoo in here, honestly."
"Oh," he said when he noticed Cho regarding her soaked apparel. He muttered a charm, and she was dry once again.
"I could have done that myself, Malfoy," Cho said.
"And you're very welcome,"
Cho started out of the crowd, with Malfoy behind her. Once in a cleared spot, Malfoy looked out the window. The rain was near impossible to see through, and lightening struck the sky every six seconds.
"Weather's quite a bitch," Draco said, quite lazily. Cho immediately wanted be outside in the storm instead of there, in that smelly shop, accompanied by Draco Malfoy. Talking about the weather, of all things.
"Yes, I suppose it is," Cho said, looking away.
Draco scanned the shop. It appeared he was waiting for someone as well.
"So, this ball. You snatched a date yet?" he inquired with a smirk playing on his lips.
"Nope,"
"That's really quite a shame,"
Cho was aggravated.
"Have you, Malfoy? Snatched a date?"
Malfoy raised an eyebrow.
"Why of course I have."
"Very well," she said, keeping her tone indifferent. "I really must be going,"
"Nice chatting," he said. She walked past him. For no particular reason, she glanced back, and saw Malfoy's eyes quickly revert.
What an ass.
The storm subsided after twenty more minutes (though it was still raining), and Cho and Madeline started back to the castle. As they approached the main entrance, they were greeted quite unpredictably.
"Hey, Chang," A taunting voice came from their right. Cho turned around and saw Pansy Parkinson, Millicent Bulstrode, and the blonde from the other day leaning against the stone wall, cigarettes in-hand.
"Oh…hello, Parkinson," Cho donned her formal Head-Girl exterior.
"Don't give me that shit, Chang," Pansy said menacingly, stepping closer, "I know what you've been up to,"
Cho could honestly not think of anything that she had done to offend. Madeline cast a questioning look.
"And what is that?" she asked, even-toned.
"We don't want your filthy hands on our men," Pansy said.
Cho had to stifle a chuckle. She found this quite funny.
"We saw you prancing around with Draco Malfoy this afternoon, bitch," the girl with long, blonde hair said (in a sinister way).
"Oh," Cho started, "I'm afraid you've been mistaken. We talked merely of the weather,"
"Fuck the weather. Chang, we're on to you,"
Cho wondered if they had stolen their lines from Muggle mafia movies.
"Well…alright then," Cho said. They looked slightly irritated by Cho's passive responses. In turn, the blonde got up very close to Cho—into her face.
"Don't give us your snarky shit, Chang," she hissed. She was no taller than Cho, but was very mean indeed.
"Sabrina," Pansy warned. She'd remembered that Cho was a prefect. The blonde, Sabrina, backed off with a snarl fixed on her face. Out of pure amusement, Cho decided to impose further hostility.
"I reckon…five points from Slytherin for your serious lack of judgment—honestly girls, I'm Head Girl—and another ten for your horrible choice of threats."
She smiled slyly, and bid good day.