Chapter 8
"Are you serious about this?" Azalea asked, her voice weak and silent.
"Of course, I'm serious," Draco answered swiftly.
Azalea stared at his still turned back, wondering what on earth just happened. She wondered what his strange behavior moments ago meant. Of course, it could just be some elaborate ploy to get her to agree to his plan. Draco wouldn't really want Azalea. He was absolutely insane over Astoria, after all. It was all just a clever trick, yeah. Azalea comforted herself with the thought that what she felt just moments before was conjured by Draco.
But then again, why would he go to such lengths? They claim to hate each other. They tell each other that on a daily basis. Then he does something so deliberately contradictory. It was just a ploy, she told herself again. Don't fall for it.
She then thought of his plan. Her services in exchange for his. All of this effort to get someone that seemed out of their reach. Just what was so bad about that plan anyway? Astoria was thick. It would be no effort to get her to fall for Draco. But could she really trust Draco in helping her make Alex fall for her? It was debatable. But what has she got to lose?
"Well?" Draco asked impatiently, finally turning around to face her. "Do we have a deal or what?"
"I can't believe I'm doing this," Azalea said, shaking her head, "but yeah. We have a deal."
Azalea was safely in her room, reading a book she pulled from the Malfoy library. It was quite interesting. Wizards who wrote fiction were either incredibly demented or extremely obtuse. In the case of the book Azalea was reading, it was demented. She was reading horror fiction. She held the book inches from her face, her eyes wide as she scanned each word, each line. Her heart was beating so fast, it seemed as if it was going to leap out of her chest. Her eyes widened as she turned the page.
"The dark, dusty hallway stretched on for ages. There was
nothing outside but night. He felt eyes scratching at his neck.
He felt his blood run cold. He felt eyes piercing his back.
His hair stood on end. Then the footsteps came. They were
behind him. No, they were in front of him. No, the footsteps
came from everywhere all at once. Click. Click. Click.
The footsteps were after him. He was being followed.
The eyes scratched at his neck harder. The eyes pierced
his back harder. Panic washed over him like cold water. Goose
pimples protruded from his skin. Sweat burst forth.
Click. Click. Click. He ran, his breath dry and ragged. Click.
Click. Click. Click. The footsteps gained speed. He was being
chased. The sound filled his head, pounded him. Laughter started.
It was high and sharp. It chilled his bone. Fear hung around him so
thick he could taste it. He ran. The cackling grew louder and louder.
The footsteps got closer and closer. He turned swiftly, his stomach
in knots. His eyes widened and his heart beat wildly. She was wielding
a bloody axe. Her head torn open, blood spilling out like a waterfall.
She was glowing, her hard cruel eyes pointed at him. Click. Click. Click.
The specter walked close, cackling, her face grotesque. He gaped, fear choking him. She raised her axe to him and-ˮ
"It's time for your first lesson."
Azalea screamed and toppled off her bed, landing on her bum with a loud thump. Draco watched this from the doorway and raised an eyebrow as her hand flew to her chest, trying to school her breathing. Right batty old cow this one, Draco thought to himself.
"What the hell was that, Azalea?" he asked, unable to keep amusement from his voice.
"Don't do that!" Azalea snapped at him. "You nearly gave me a heart attack."
"Well, what is it that you're reading that's got you so worked up?" he asked, coming into the room and shutting the door.
"That book," Azalea said, nodding to the book on the bed as she willed herself to calm down.
Draco picked it up and gazed at the cover. "The Blood Manor?" he asked with interest and glanced down at Azalea. "I hadn't pegged you to be a sadist."
"Shut up," Azalea grumbled, standing up and snatching the book from him. "I was bored, okay? Your parents won't let me look for a respectable job. I've got to keep myself occupied somehow."
"Well, I've come with a brilliant and less terrifying way to alleviate your boredom," Draco said.
"If it's your idea, I doubt it's brilliant," Azalea said sarcastically.
"Would you let me do this?" Draco asked, agitated. "We had a deal, remember?"
"Fine, whatever," Azalea rolled her eyes. "What have you got to teach me, Professor?"
"So, you're planning to go to this bloke's party tomorrow, right?" Draco asked, walking over to her.
"His name is Alex and yes, I plan to go."
"Well, what are you planning to wear?" he asked.
"I dunno. Jeans? A t-shirt?" Azalea shrugged. "Why does it matter?"
"Wrong!!" Draco said, flicking her on the forehead.
"Ow!!" Azalea screamed, her hand flying to her forehead automatically. "Bloody hell! Why did you flick me?!"
"Here's your first lesson," Draco told her as Azalea glared. "Girls are all emotional. You know, they respond to what they feel and shit. Boys are visual. They respond to what they see."
"So?"
"So show me the dresses that you have."
"Who are you to order me around, you-ˮ
"Do it!!"
Azalea heaved a sigh and glared at him as she flipped out her wand and waved it at the closet. Draco folded his arms over his chest as he watched dresses sail out of the closet. There was a medley of dresses that flew out and proceeded to parade themselves in front of him. They circled Draco who only stared at them blankly.
They were all the same, he thought. They were all tasteful dresses, yes, but they were all excessively conservative. They were either at the knees or past the knees altogether. They all left too much to the imagination, Draco thought as he stared on with boredom at the dresses spinning around him. Then his eyes caught at a cherry red halter that housed promising glitter. But he was disappointed to find that it was a full gown. He was even more disappointed to find that it ended there and no more dresses came out of the closet. Draco gave Azalea a dubious look.
"What?" she asked.
"This is it?" Draco asked uninterestedly, gesturing to the dresses.
"This is all the dresses I own," Azalea nodded, gazing contentedly at her garments, "yes."
"They all suck."
"What?!" Azalea exclaimed. "What the hell are you talking about? These are all bought from the most prestigious shops and boutiques in England and France!"
"Well, they all look like you're going to wear them to a funeral!" Draco announced as Azalea's jaw dropped indignantly. "Do you have, you know, shorter dresses that you wear to clubs and stuff?"
"I had no use for short dresses in the past," Azalea retorted. "Plus, I didn't go to clubs."
"Well, that's where we're going to start," Draco nodded, heading to the door.
"Where exactly?" Azalea asked.
"We're going to Diagon Alley," he told her over his shoulder, expecting her to follow. "We're going shopping."
"You know if you say things like that out loud, people will wonder about your sexual orientation," Azalea teased, following him out the door.
"Oh, you made a gay joke," Draco said derisively. "How clever."
"I only work with what you give me," Azalea said, a smirk on her lips.
Diagon Alley held few people that afternoon. Most of the adult population was either at work or at home taking care of small children. The teenagers were at Hogwarts, slaving away their adolescence for the sake of higher education. The few that were there were either the lazy bums who had nothing else to do but wander Diagon Alley, the employees on their respective breaks, or the rich heirs and heiresses with nothing to do but spend money.
Azalea wasn't so sure she appreciated being seen in public with the likes of Draco Malfoy. Of course, they didn't exactly look friendly with each other. It was even obscure whether they knew each other. Draco walked ahead of her, his hands in his pockets, striding as if he owned the place. Azalea walked behind him, choosing to look alert instead of cocky.
Draco led Azalea to a boutique that Pansy, Daphne, and Astoria often frequented when the three of them dragged Blaise and Draco to Diagon Alley. The dresses in this boutique ranged from long evening gowns to short dance club style dresses. It was the perfect place to start.
"What is this place?" Azalea asked suspiciously, eyeing the shop.
"It's called Intimate Witchery," he said. "This is where Pansy, Daphne, and Astoria shop for their dresses. Now come on."
"I'm not going in there," Azalea said difficultly, crossing her arms over her chest.
"Why not?" Draco asked, irritated by her hard headedness.
"If this is where those three get their clothes, then you can forget it," Azalea said, walking away. "I prefer to wear clothes with more cloth than an ordinary dish towel."
"Wait a minute, you," Draco ordered, grabbing her arm before she can walk too far. "Don't be such a shrew. They have a range of dresses in various lengths. If you absolutely must be boring in your dress selections, which I will prevent, you'll still find something here."
"Are you sure?" Azalea asked. "You're not lying just to get me in there, are you?"
"I'm not lying," Draco answered, narrowing his eyes at her.
"Fine," Azalea said after a brief stare down, "but if you're lying, I'll make you wear those damn dresses."
"Great, now will you come on?" Draco asked and turned to enter the store. "Be pleasant and try not to piss everyone off."
"That's your job, Draco," Azalea grumbled leeringly.
The boutique was divided into two sides, the left side and the right side. The left side was further divided into two. The first half of the left side was long evening gowns. The gowns were a bit garish, however. They were a bit too showy, not classy at all. The second half were mid calf to knee length tea and cocktail dresses. Again, they were far gaudy and glitzy to be classy. The right side was dedicated to short party and night club dresses. They were as flashy and ostentatious as the rest of the dresses in the store.
"May I help you?" a snooty store clerk questioned, assessing the amount of wealth Draco and Azalea had by the way they looked.
The clerk nodded at them and smiled. They apparently passed and were defined as worthy customers. This slightly annoyed Azalea. Draco, however, seemed to enjoy having his wealth assessed by his looks. Typical, Azalea thought.
"We're looking for short party and night club dresses," Draco spoke evenly.
"Are the dresses for you, sir, or for the lady?" the clerk asked with a slight sneer.
Azalea snorted with laughter, thoroughly amused by the glare that suddenly came on Draco's face. Draco scowled at her. Azalea shrugged and looked away, still sniggering.
"What do you think?" Draco demanded of the clerk. "It's for her!"
"We have a medley of short dresses here, sir," the clerk said, gesturing to the right side of the store. "Please tell me if you have difficulty picking out outfits. And Miss, feel free to call me as well should you have any problems."
Draco glared at the clerk as she walked away. Azalea began laughing, unable to contain herself. And she thought she didn't want to go in. She was going to thoroughly enjoy this. Draco whirled to her and watched her guffaw.
"Would you shut up?" he snapped.
"Just remember, Draco," Azalea said, patting him on the shoulder, "this was your idea."
Draco rolled his eyes at her and dragged her toward a mannequin. The mannequin was wearing a ridiculously short maroon dress. It was an open backed halter with a plunging neckline. It hugged the hips tightly and ended mid thigh, nearer to the crotch area than the knee area. Draco looked at the dress appreciatively. Azalea looked at it with repulsion.
"Now this is the kind of dress you should be wearing to the Smoky Lounge or to Alex What's His Name's party," Draco said. "It's bold. It hugs your curves. Top it with a wicked set of stilettos and you're in business."
"It's too short," Azalea grumbled.
"What are you talking about?" Draco argued. "It's the perfect length."
"If you can't sit down in it, Draco," Azalea said, walking away from the dress, "it's too short."
"You're not going to make this easy, are you?" Draco frowned, following her away from the scrumptiously sexy maroon dress.
"If you like the dress so much, perhaps you should try it on," Azalea suggested with a laugh. "The store clerk already thinks you're a bender."
"Would you stop it with the gay jokes?!" Draco said, feeling is temper flare.
Azalea only laughed at him. Draco glared. This was going to be a long afternoon.