Chapter Four: A Ribbon
For as long as I live, I will never understand the fellow members of my gender and their unnatural obsession with hair products. What can it profit a girl to use six different concoctions on what will eventually be put back into a ponytail anyway? Furthermore, I do not wish to have my head smelling like a fruit basket, a dessert pastry, an herbal remedy for dandruff, or anything called such a stupid name as 'freesia.' I do not care to know what my shampoo is made of, what seventeen herbs and spices went into it, or whether it is tested on humans or particularly vain chimpanzees. If it makes my hair clean, I am well enough pleased. If it also prevents dandruff, which I don't ever recall having, then okay. If it causes me to reek so strongly of strawberries that passing butterflies chase me, damn.
I tried to voice these opinions, which I find perfectly reasonable, to my two friends. Would you believe that they thought I was being funny? They then proceeded to bend me over the bathtub with my knees on a chair, then without further ado, drenched my entire head.
No, not then. Before that, they took my hair-tie and started making remarks about it, which continued as I was forcibly soaked above the ears.
"Is this a piece of leather?"
"Black leather?"
"You use a black leather hair-bow?"
"You're dating the wrong brother," Ginny chirped.
"Iff not 'cauff iff leaffer," I tried to protest. Hermione, paragon of humane treatment that she is –compared to Ginny, let me up. "It was a scrap from when I cut out some watchbands months ago, so I trimmed it down to an even width, and it works really well. What gives?"
"It's perfectly acceptable –on a white wig."
"Very Georgian," Hermione agreed. "As, ironically enough, are the rest of your clothes. Ginny, look."
"Okay, what is wrong with that?" I protested, as Ginny charmed my hair rinsed and dry. Really, why didn't she just do that in the first place?
The garment in question was a coat I wear when I go out in cold weather. It's made of crushed velvet and has lovely wide cuffs, four inside pockets, and a lovely fuzzy collar behind the nicely pointy lapels.
"Well…I don't think Thomas Jefferson wants it back, but…"
"Who's Thomas Jefferson?"
"American fella. He wrote the Declaration of Independence from England. Died in like, 1820-something." Ginny smirked and Hermione sighed.
"He died in 1826 and was born in 1743."
"Obviously, not in that order," I growled peevishly. "What's it to do with my coat?"
"Well, it's the same style they wore in 1789."
"So?"
"It's the same style men wore in 1789."
"Muggle men, in America."
"There again, Hermione, I doubt any will be present." Ginny sighed. "Perhaps Charlie will mistake it for one of those French designer numbers Fleur skips about in."
"I'm not likely to wear that tonight. It's too warm."
"Well, you've got to wear something besides that horrible getup you had on in the shop."
I had been wearing my usual shirt with a vest over. My trousers were gray, and I had suspenders under the vest that buttoned on. I had had my sleeves rolled up when the girls came by, and my collar and the first button down were undone, but my vest (brown suede front, black silk back,) prevented anything below my collarbone from showing. It was a nice outfit, of the sort I wore everyday.
I tried to point this out to them.
"It is a perfectly nice outfit, Jessie," Ginny agreed. "It would also be a perfectly nice outfit for a guy. There's nothing whatsoever that's even the slightest bit feminine. And the ten watches…"
"They stay on."
"I think we have to consider that a personal idiosyncrasy, Gin," Hermione observed. "You're no more likely to get the watches off of Jessie's arms than you are to get the quills out of my pockets, inky spots or not."
"What human in the world needs ten watches on at once? If they all run so well, why do you need nine backups? You look like Dung Fletcher with ten bloody watches on. I expect you to offer to sell me one in a dark alley."
Okay, she does occasionally have a point. I sighed and began unbuckling, unclasping, and untying the bands.
Yes, untying. Some people, Muggles, especially, insist that Muggles made the first wristwatch for troops in the First World War. They are quite mistaken. The first wristwatch was made entirely by accident when an enterprising but horrifically clumsy wizard who was researching some possible new uses for dragon's blood melted the back of his pocket watch.
As a half-melted watch tends to be hot, he dropped it, whereupon it stuck to his shoelace, which happened to be untied. I told you he was clumsy. The snow in which he was standing rapidly cooled the metal, and the shoelace, which by some miracle was only singed, stuck fast to the watch's back. Said watch was from my shop, (only it wasn't mine then, but my ancestor's,) and therefore, not-so-miraculously, did not stop working. The wizard, who was quite bright in spite of his total lack of coordination, thought for a moment and then promptly tied the watch around his wrist.
Actually, I suspect he had his wife tie the watch on. It's devilish hard tying your own watch, just as it is to button your own cuffs.
And that is how Nicolas Flamel invented wristwatches. I really don't know why it isn't on his Chocolate Frog card. That sort of thing's really quite interesting –well, to me at least.
In any case, that's how I explained my two tie-on watches to Hermione when she looked mystified. Many wizards still wear the tie sort, which are rather more comfortable, though a bit inconvenient, and it gives their wives something to do every morning after breakfast and before goodbye kiss. She may be Muggle-born, but I see no reason why she should not know important details like this.
Would you believe they found that important historical anecdote funny?
"Have you got a t-shirt?" Ginny inquired all of a sudden. "Just a plain t-shirt?"
"I…don't think so…"
"How can you not have a plain t-shirt? It's like- the universal garment."
"Well, I wear collared shirts to work…"
"And when you go out?"
"I…wear collared shirts."
"She has them in almost every color," Hermione pointed out.
"Granddad got so bent out of shape about that at first…"
"What? Colors?"
"'We have been here since before Diagon Alley was Diagon Alley. There is no need for apprentices to go frisking about in every color of the rainbow like a lot of butterflies in rut. Have you no white shirts?'" I quoted, smirking. Ginny's jaw dropped.
"He said that?"
"Well, he did eventually relent once I stopped being an apprentice… Full clocksmiths can wear whatever they want."
"Then why are you…?" Ginny trailed off, gesturing at my clothes. Hermione rolled her eyes.
"Jessie, it's nothing personal. I don't see anything wrong with your taste in clothes, and for what you do during the day, they're fine. I think what she's on about …they just aren't very practical for going out with someone."
"Why is 'going out with someone' such a big deal?" I groaned disconsolately. "I mean, Charlie's…"
It hit me right then. He wasn't just a friend. I had a bit of a thing for him –okay, a serious thing for him.
"…not a snobby git or anything."
"I've an idea," Ginny remarked suddenly. "How about I go over to the house and chat with him while Mum forces us to do the dishes? I'll find out exactly where he wants to go with you, and then I'll tell Hermione, and she can select something suitable."
"Why not just tell-?"
"Because he may be trying to surprise you, Jess. Honestly, how many guys have you dated?"
"More than once?"
"Ohhh, why do I bother…" Ginny sighed theatrically and headed for my fireplace. "I'll be back directly. Fear not. The Burrow!" And she was gone in a puff of smoke –well, Floo powder, really…
I looked pathetically at Hermione. She stifled a laugh.
"You go get some sleep. I can mind the shop until Ginny gets back."
"Thank you," I replied earnestly, heading toward the stairs. "Oh! There's 25 percent off sale on all of the gold pocket watches except the ones with mother-of-pearl faces, and those are 15 percent."
"I'll remember, Jessie."
"Oh, and don't sell the silver alarm clock with the blue face. Some lady wanted to earmark it and didn't have enough for a deposit, but she still seemed to really want it, so…"
"Jessie," Hermione gave me an authoritative look, "go get some sleep."
"…Okay."
I don't know what all I dreamt about, though I did have some dreams, and that's unusual for a nap. At about five-thirty that afternoon, I awoke to the unmistakable sound of feminine fluttering in my closet. Yes, I have had other females attempt to de-scruff-ify me before, particularly my kind but misguided stepmother, roommates, and assorted girls I more or less considered friends. Really, what's so wrong with dressing in a professional manner? In any case, there was definite activity in the closet, and I decided to go and investigate. No sense delaying the inevitable.
Oh, was that ever a bad idea!
Ginny had brought in reinforcements.
Lavender Brown let out an excited chirp and raced over to me, a bit of fabric too large for a respectable handkerchief, too translucent for a respectable shawl and too bloody small to be any kind of shirt. It was a nice color –well, more than one, actually, sort of a tie-dye pattern with lots of blues and pinks and lavenders, but it was decidedly see-through and I must say, I flinched at the sight of it.
"This is perfect! Ginny, get the blue camisole and the sparkle jeans!"
"I brought boots!" Parvati announced, holding up an ominous large suitcase.
"Earrings?" Padma suggested. Good lord. Padma was from my House! I'd considered her sensible!
"I have some," Luna Lovegood offered, holding up something too far away to see. I visibly winced and Hermione patted my shoulder before snapping her fingers with a sound fit to wake the dead.
"Guys!" The melee went silent and I looked at my bookworm friend in astonishment. "One at a time. The object is for this to be as far from traumatic as possible."
"You of all people, Hermione," I mumbled quietly, as the others resumed their discussion more quietly. "I thought you were on my side in this –fussing about your looks is a silly waste of time –idn't it?"
"Well…it wasn't my idea to bring them along –well, maybe Padma, but… I kind of want to see how this little project turns out," she confessed; sadistically, in my opinion. "That, and I sort of want this date to go well with you and Charlie."
"In Merlin's name, why?"
"Let's put it this way. Ron's like my brother, and therefore Charlie's like a kind of older cousin. You're definitely a friend. I like to see people I care about happy." I stared at her. "That, and it'd be nice for Ron to have one of his brothers dating a girl he doesn't either fancy himself or find impossibly annoying. You fit that category nicely."
"Off with the shirt, Jess," Ginny commanded, holding up a dark blue scrap of fabric. I reluctantly obeyed, only to be suddenly the object of an impromptu judging panel. "Bit weak in your midfield," the redheaded Chaser observed, poking my stomach, "but not too bad."
"Are you acquainted with the sun at all, Jessie?" Lavender inquired, looking over my arms. "It's that yellow ball in the sky what gives people tans. Might want to go and visit it sometime."
So I'm a little pale. I work indoors!
"Try on this blue cami," Parvati commanded. I looked at the tiny garment, which had straps I wouldn't have used for a miniature watch, let alone a shirt, and gasped.
"This …is a handkerchief…"
"It's like a kind of tasteful undershirt. You won't be wearing only it," Hermione reassured. I sighed and pulled on the miniscule scrap of cloth, which, to my surprise, was quite stretchy and actually rather nice. "See?"
"No visible bra straps here!" Ginny announced, letting fly a little spell I did not want to know about, let alone feel. I glanced downward and jumped.
"…Er…Ginny? …where did my bra go?"
"I changed it a bit and turned it invisible."
"…Oh. …you didn't…like…pad it?"
"No. I just changed the design a little. Like?"
What I wanted to say: 'Ginny, if I was a guy, I'd 'like'! I look like a strumpet!'
What I said: "Oh." And I shrugged.
Actually, now that I think about it, the outfit the Coven had chosen for me was really not that bad. With the flimsy, see-through tie-dye sort of shirt over, the cami-thing didn't look that slutty at all. But somehow it wasn't me.
"Here," Padma, the clever one, held up my new vest. It was actually very unusual for me as well, being black leather with chrome zippers and snaps. "Put this over." Lavender gagged, Parvati gave her twin a glare, and Ginny sighed. But put it on I did, and-
"Whoa…"
"Perfect!" Hermione confirmed.
I suppose the combination of somewhat masculine leather with ultra-feminine see-through clothes that look like Trelawney's laundry works, somehow. Ginny gave my leather hair-bow back, after transfiguring it a bit longer and wider, and the effect was …rather nice, actually…I guess.
But they were not done with me. Oh, no.
"Time for the makeup!"
…why wasn't I a boy?