Part VII: Susan, you don’t have to wear that dress tonight (21 December, 2002)
Title: Tart Noir Around and About Vertick Alley
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Tart Noir, crime-romance
Pairings: Lavender/Zacharias, Draco/Ron, Susan/Blaise, Zacharias/Ginny ...
Summary: Lavender Brown is part of the investigation into the murders of the children of Death Eaters and is madly in love with her flatmate and best friend, Zacharias Smith. Ron Weasley is babysitting Draco Malfoy and sick of being gay in a terribly straight Wizarding World. Susan Bones doesn't get patronuses and is not having a relationship with Blaise Zabini. Zacharias Smith is sick of his job and thinks he might ask Ginny Weasley to move in with him. Mr Darcy, the flatmate's cat, thinks they're all bloody ridiculous. Four twenty-one year olds suffering with work, love and life.
I’m not a violent person, I’m really not, but right now I’d like to kill everyone. Violently. Preferably with a some sort of brutal, blood-spattering curse.
The Yuletide Ball is tonight and I told Blaise I’d go with him. It’s not something I’d normally do but I figured it’d be nice to get dressed up and have some fun. Plus, he has to go and he may as well endure it with someone with the ability to sling two syllables together.
But that was when I thought dressed up was nicer dress robes and a dash of lipstick. Unfortunately, Lavender found out about it. Damn Parvati and her ridiculous column and damn my inability to tell lies.
It’s not that I don’t appreciate the gesture. Actually, screw that, I totally don’t appreciate the gesture. Lavender’s got me decked out in these ‘sexy’ lilac robes, which seem to be nothing but plunging necklines and slide splits and lace. I always thought robes were supposed to be sedate and lilac really does nothing for my skin, which, to put it lightly, is missing its sun.
“I am not wearing these, Brown,” I snarl. It’s difficult to breath in the corset-style waist she’s put me in and I think my breasts are going to pop out.
“But you look gorgeous,” Lavender coos. “Doesn’t she, Parv?”
Did I forget to mention Parvati had joined us on the shopping trip from hell?
Parvati is surveying me critically. “I’m not sure if the lilac is right on you, Suse.” Oh thank God. “Maybe peach.”
“No! No peach. No lilac. No slutty slits. I’ve had enough.” I try to rip the robes off and get stuck with it at my shoulders.
Lavender wraps an arm about my waist. “We’re not going to let you be boring for tonight, Susan.”
“I am not wearing lilac.”
“We’ll help you get the robes off if you try on another pair Parvati’s found.”
Anything.
Free of the ghastly robes, I ready myself to have another screaming match over these ones. They’re red, which can only be an improvement and I pull them on less reluctantly.
They’re comfortable, which is the first thing that shocks me. Despite the tight waist and ever-plunging neckline that Lavender was sure to insist upon, they fit perfectly and I feel as if I’m less likely to expose myself to a crowd of upper-class Wizards.
The robes clasp at the back so Lavender comes in and does them. Then, she steps back and surveys her good work. “Wow.”
“What?” I turn and look in the mirror. The robes give my body the sexiest curves and the red silk whispers as I move.
Parvati looks over. “You are buying those robes.”
Perhaps I won’t kill them, I think, as Mademoiselle Georges packages them. Maybe just maim.
I’m having second thoughts again as Lavender and Parvati fuss over my hair and make up. “Blaise isn’t going to recognise me,” I groan. “He’s going to be like, who’s this girl?”
“This gorgeous, sexy, sophisticated girl?” Parvati suggests.
“Yes. No!”
“Susan, it may shock you to know that when you’re tarted up you’re quite pretty,” Lavender says. “I’d kill for your hair.”
“And I’d kill for those curves,” Parvati adds. “You’re hot.”
“Blaise and I are friends.”
“Whatever,” Lavender says, rolling her eyes. “Doesn’t mean you can’t be gorgeous. The Yuletide Ball is an amazing opportunity. Wish I had someone to invite me,” she sighs wistfully.
“Speaking of which,” Parvati says, “I need to get ready. Harry and I are going. Hopefully we can avoid that horrible Skeeter woman this time. She doesn’t give up. Thankfully, I’m skilled at getting ready quickly. See you later Susan. Au revoir Lav-lav.” And she’s gone.
Lavender grins. “Now, it’s makeup time. Thank God Vati’s gone. She always overdoes it.”
“Lav, no offence, but I can do my own makeup.”
“Whatever,” she rolls her eyes. “You’ve got ten minutes before Blaise gets here.” And she shuts the door behind me.
“Fuck.” There’s no time to do my hair. I moisturise and dab on some mascara and lipgloss. There’s a knock at the door. Please don’t let anyone else answer it. Please.
“Blaise, come in,” Zacharias drawls. “Susan’s just panicking over her dress.”
Blaise laughs nervously. “Good to know.”
I rush out. I am not subjecting Blaise to Zacharias in a stupid mood. “Hey.”
“Hey.” He looks up. Very dashing in dark robes. As usual. “Whoa.”
Zacharias whistles. “Shut up, prick.”
“So it is the same old Susan under that.”
“Smith, stop checking out my breasts.” He’s grinning appreciatively. “Shall we go, Zabini?”
“Sure.” He offers me his arm and we leave.
The Ball is being held at the Grand Hall in the Ministry Buildings. It’s glitzy and sparkling and there are chandeliers everywhere. Blaise doesn’t let go of my arm the entire time and I just wonder how long we have to stay before we can go back to his place and lose the robes. I’m not slutty (although hanging around Lavender does have its side effects) but I really don’t want to be here.
We end up at a table with several couples, none of whom I know. A couple of the people look vaguely familiar but aside from that, nothing. There’s Lorraine Simpkins, a young woman with her aging husband, Terry. Gold-digger and fool. Gary and Venettia du Pont, early thirties, sharp, discontented. Lilian Marks and partner, Steve Urlington, seem like a nice couple, late thirties maybe. Then, there’s Dean Thomas and Mary O’Neal, who also seem nice. I vaguely remember Dean from Hogwarts.
A couple of tables away I can see Parvati, looking absolutely stunning in tasteful navy, playing at Belle of the Ball, while Harry looks on fondly. He’s so in love, it’s kind of sweet.
“Dean, right?” Blaise is saying. He has obviously quickly summed up who’s worth talking to at the table. “What brings you here?”
“The new Minister of International Magical Cooperation,” Dean replies. “He knew my father.”
I turn to Lilian. “I’m Susan Bones.”
“A relation of Amelia Bones?” she asks. To my nod she grins. “Thought I recognised the eyes. She’s a friend of the family.”
“Was,” I correct automatically.
“Oh, yes,” Lilian’s face draws thin. “I’m sorry. I always make such an ass of myself. These sorts of occasion aren’t really me.”
“You want to know a secret?” I lean closer. “Me neither.”
“But Blaise must get invited to events like this all the time.”
“Wouldn’t know. He doesn’t usually bring me. We’re just friends.”
“Really?” She seems shocked. Can’t think why. “You seemed so couple-y when you walked over here.”
“No, just friends. I don’t do relationships.”
She grins. “Neither, not usually. Steve’s just divine though and when he asked me, I couldn’t say no. Apparently this place is notorious for proposals.”
“Uck.”
She laughs. “So, what do you do?”
We talk for a while, eat and I drink far too much champagne. More than is probably good for me, but it doesn’t look like the evening is ending soon. Then, the music starts and people start to dance. “Do me the honour?” Blaise asks, grinning.
I roll my eyes. “If it means we can leave sooner.”
“You knew what you were getting yourself into.”
“Did I?”
“Anyway, it’s not that bad. The food was nice and you look fabulous.”
I drape an arm around his waist. The music is slow, I don’t know much about music so I couldn’t tell you what it was, but it’s the sort of song where you stand still and hold each other and sway. “Just be glad Lavender didn’t get me into the lilac robes.”
He laughs and threads dark fingers through my hair. I suddenly wish that I’d had time to do it up. “We’ll leave as soon as it’s polite. A few dances.” His fingers tease my spine and I shiver.
“You shouldn’t take advantage of a young lass so,” I murmur, fluttering my eyelashes.
He smirks. “Oh, you’re totally leading me on.”
“Is this where I say, is that your wand or are you just pleased to see me?”
He spins me. “Believe it or not, I didn’t bring you because I knew you’d be brilliant arm candy. I actually like talking to you.”
“So you weren’t checking me out when you walked behind me?”
“Of course not. Would I do something like that?”
“I know exactly what you do, Mister Zabini.” I think the champagne is taking its effect. I feel distinctly light-headed.
“This isn’t like you, Susan.”
The dance ends and another begins.
“No,” I agree. “I think I have drunk too much champagne.” I am making sure I say everything very clearly and articulately.
“I’ll make sure you don’t embarrass yourself in public.”
“You do that.”
We stop for a break and sit down on one of the lounge chairs that have appeared around the ballroom floor. I rest my head on Blaise’s shoulder. “I like this dress a lot,” I say.
Blaise smirks. “So do I.” Then, he whispers into my ear, “I’d like to get you out of it too.”
“So this is the sort of proposal everyone talks about?”
“Any objections?”
I shake my head and he leaves to thank the hosts properly. I sit up and wait on his return, when Pansy Parkinson sits down beside me. She’s elegantly dressed in velvety green material and her hair has lilies in it. “Bones.”
“Parkinson.”
“How’s the night going?”
“Good. Blaise and I are just about to leave.” I have no idea why she’s talking to me but I figure if I answer her questions she’ll go away.
“Has he asked you yet?”
“Yes.”
She sighs happily. “You said yes.”
“Of course,” I say, puzzled.
“Okay, cheerio,” Pansy trills and rushes off to her date, a rabbity-looking young man in pinstripes.
Blaise comes back. “Ready to go?”
We apparate out, Blaise holding my arm so that I don’t splinch myself unintentionally. When we reach his appartment he kisses me hungrily. “I’ve been wanting to do that all night.”
“Me too.” I pull at his jacket while he rips open the clasps of my robes. There’s something in the pocket, something hard. I feel around inside and pull it out. A jewellry box.
“Suse, no …” The lust is gone from his eyes and they’re filled with something more like panic.
I open it. Sparkly, shimmering, diamonds. “Damnit Blaise!”
“You said you liked diamonds,” he replies weakly. Maybe I had too much to eat, because my robes seem tighter, constricting the flow of oxygen to my lungs.
“So you bought me an engagement ring?” I can’t believe this. I can’t. It’s insane. Oh Merlin, I’m going to die. “You know how I feel about relationships.”
“Susan, wake up and smell the coffee. We’re in a relationship. We go on dates, we have dinner, we fuck.”
“I don’t do relationships.”
“You talk a lot of shit, Bones. You’ve been in a relationship since you fell into my arms three years ago.” He’s angry. Red stains his cheeks.
“If I talk so much shit why were you going to propose?” This isn’t happening.
“Because I love you.”
Maybe I’ll wake up now. “What?”
“I love you. You and all your crazy theories, your ‘I’m such a loner’, your inability to see beauty in anything - especially yourself. You.”
“Merlin, this is such a cliché.”
“You want it to be original? Fuck, Susan. Love is a cliché. You can’t do it originally.”
“Why couldn’t things have stayed the way they were?” My mascara is running down my cheeks now, even though I don’t cry.
“Because real life isn’t like that,” he replies, looking miserable. “And I don’t want our life to be like that.”
“I need to not be here right now. Please don’t contact me.” I make my voice as cold as possible and apparate back to the flat.
They’re all still up. “How was it, Susan?” Lavender asks. Something in my eyes stops her from going further.
“Fantastic. I had a wonderful time. I’m tired and I’m going to go to bed.”
I perform a silencing charm on the walls, colapse on my bed and cry myself to sleep. I don’t change out of the beautiful red robes. I don’t wash the makeup from my eyes. I don’t respond to the knocks on my door.
When sleep comes, I forget everything.
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Tart Noir, crime-romance
Pairings: Lavender/Zacharias, Draco/Ron, Susan/Blaise, Zacharias/Ginny ...
Summary: Lavender Brown is part of the investigation into the murders of the children of Death Eaters and is madly in love with her flatmate and best friend, Zacharias Smith. Ron Weasley is babysitting Draco Malfoy and sick of being gay in a terribly straight Wizarding World. Susan Bones doesn't get patronuses and is not having a relationship with Blaise Zabini. Zacharias Smith is sick of his job and thinks he might ask Ginny Weasley to move in with him. Mr Darcy, the flatmate's cat, thinks they're all bloody ridiculous. Four twenty-one year olds suffering with work, love and life.
I’m not a violent person, I’m really not, but right now I’d like to kill everyone. Violently. Preferably with a some sort of brutal, blood-spattering curse.
The Yuletide Ball is tonight and I told Blaise I’d go with him. It’s not something I’d normally do but I figured it’d be nice to get dressed up and have some fun. Plus, he has to go and he may as well endure it with someone with the ability to sling two syllables together.
But that was when I thought dressed up was nicer dress robes and a dash of lipstick. Unfortunately, Lavender found out about it. Damn Parvati and her ridiculous column and damn my inability to tell lies.
It’s not that I don’t appreciate the gesture. Actually, screw that, I totally don’t appreciate the gesture. Lavender’s got me decked out in these ‘sexy’ lilac robes, which seem to be nothing but plunging necklines and slide splits and lace. I always thought robes were supposed to be sedate and lilac really does nothing for my skin, which, to put it lightly, is missing its sun.
“I am not wearing these, Brown,” I snarl. It’s difficult to breath in the corset-style waist she’s put me in and I think my breasts are going to pop out.
“But you look gorgeous,” Lavender coos. “Doesn’t she, Parv?”
Did I forget to mention Parvati had joined us on the shopping trip from hell?
Parvati is surveying me critically. “I’m not sure if the lilac is right on you, Suse.” Oh thank God. “Maybe peach.”
“No! No peach. No lilac. No slutty slits. I’ve had enough.” I try to rip the robes off and get stuck with it at my shoulders.
Lavender wraps an arm about my waist. “We’re not going to let you be boring for tonight, Susan.”
“I am not wearing lilac.”
“We’ll help you get the robes off if you try on another pair Parvati’s found.”
Anything.
Free of the ghastly robes, I ready myself to have another screaming match over these ones. They’re red, which can only be an improvement and I pull them on less reluctantly.
They’re comfortable, which is the first thing that shocks me. Despite the tight waist and ever-plunging neckline that Lavender was sure to insist upon, they fit perfectly and I feel as if I’m less likely to expose myself to a crowd of upper-class Wizards.
The robes clasp at the back so Lavender comes in and does them. Then, she steps back and surveys her good work. “Wow.”
“What?” I turn and look in the mirror. The robes give my body the sexiest curves and the red silk whispers as I move.
Parvati looks over. “You are buying those robes.”
Perhaps I won’t kill them, I think, as Mademoiselle Georges packages them. Maybe just maim.
I’m having second thoughts again as Lavender and Parvati fuss over my hair and make up. “Blaise isn’t going to recognise me,” I groan. “He’s going to be like, who’s this girl?”
“This gorgeous, sexy, sophisticated girl?” Parvati suggests.
“Yes. No!”
“Susan, it may shock you to know that when you’re tarted up you’re quite pretty,” Lavender says. “I’d kill for your hair.”
“And I’d kill for those curves,” Parvati adds. “You’re hot.”
“Blaise and I are friends.”
“Whatever,” Lavender says, rolling her eyes. “Doesn’t mean you can’t be gorgeous. The Yuletide Ball is an amazing opportunity. Wish I had someone to invite me,” she sighs wistfully.
“Speaking of which,” Parvati says, “I need to get ready. Harry and I are going. Hopefully we can avoid that horrible Skeeter woman this time. She doesn’t give up. Thankfully, I’m skilled at getting ready quickly. See you later Susan. Au revoir Lav-lav.” And she’s gone.
Lavender grins. “Now, it’s makeup time. Thank God Vati’s gone. She always overdoes it.”
“Lav, no offence, but I can do my own makeup.”
“Whatever,” she rolls her eyes. “You’ve got ten minutes before Blaise gets here.” And she shuts the door behind me.
“Fuck.” There’s no time to do my hair. I moisturise and dab on some mascara and lipgloss. There’s a knock at the door. Please don’t let anyone else answer it. Please.
“Blaise, come in,” Zacharias drawls. “Susan’s just panicking over her dress.”
Blaise laughs nervously. “Good to know.”
I rush out. I am not subjecting Blaise to Zacharias in a stupid mood. “Hey.”
“Hey.” He looks up. Very dashing in dark robes. As usual. “Whoa.”
Zacharias whistles. “Shut up, prick.”
“So it is the same old Susan under that.”
“Smith, stop checking out my breasts.” He’s grinning appreciatively. “Shall we go, Zabini?”
“Sure.” He offers me his arm and we leave.
The Ball is being held at the Grand Hall in the Ministry Buildings. It’s glitzy and sparkling and there are chandeliers everywhere. Blaise doesn’t let go of my arm the entire time and I just wonder how long we have to stay before we can go back to his place and lose the robes. I’m not slutty (although hanging around Lavender does have its side effects) but I really don’t want to be here.
We end up at a table with several couples, none of whom I know. A couple of the people look vaguely familiar but aside from that, nothing. There’s Lorraine Simpkins, a young woman with her aging husband, Terry. Gold-digger and fool. Gary and Venettia du Pont, early thirties, sharp, discontented. Lilian Marks and partner, Steve Urlington, seem like a nice couple, late thirties maybe. Then, there’s Dean Thomas and Mary O’Neal, who also seem nice. I vaguely remember Dean from Hogwarts.
A couple of tables away I can see Parvati, looking absolutely stunning in tasteful navy, playing at Belle of the Ball, while Harry looks on fondly. He’s so in love, it’s kind of sweet.
“Dean, right?” Blaise is saying. He has obviously quickly summed up who’s worth talking to at the table. “What brings you here?”
“The new Minister of International Magical Cooperation,” Dean replies. “He knew my father.”
I turn to Lilian. “I’m Susan Bones.”
“A relation of Amelia Bones?” she asks. To my nod she grins. “Thought I recognised the eyes. She’s a friend of the family.”
“Was,” I correct automatically.
“Oh, yes,” Lilian’s face draws thin. “I’m sorry. I always make such an ass of myself. These sorts of occasion aren’t really me.”
“You want to know a secret?” I lean closer. “Me neither.”
“But Blaise must get invited to events like this all the time.”
“Wouldn’t know. He doesn’t usually bring me. We’re just friends.”
“Really?” She seems shocked. Can’t think why. “You seemed so couple-y when you walked over here.”
“No, just friends. I don’t do relationships.”
She grins. “Neither, not usually. Steve’s just divine though and when he asked me, I couldn’t say no. Apparently this place is notorious for proposals.”
“Uck.”
She laughs. “So, what do you do?”
We talk for a while, eat and I drink far too much champagne. More than is probably good for me, but it doesn’t look like the evening is ending soon. Then, the music starts and people start to dance. “Do me the honour?” Blaise asks, grinning.
I roll my eyes. “If it means we can leave sooner.”
“You knew what you were getting yourself into.”
“Did I?”
“Anyway, it’s not that bad. The food was nice and you look fabulous.”
I drape an arm around his waist. The music is slow, I don’t know much about music so I couldn’t tell you what it was, but it’s the sort of song where you stand still and hold each other and sway. “Just be glad Lavender didn’t get me into the lilac robes.”
He laughs and threads dark fingers through my hair. I suddenly wish that I’d had time to do it up. “We’ll leave as soon as it’s polite. A few dances.” His fingers tease my spine and I shiver.
“You shouldn’t take advantage of a young lass so,” I murmur, fluttering my eyelashes.
He smirks. “Oh, you’re totally leading me on.”
“Is this where I say, is that your wand or are you just pleased to see me?”
He spins me. “Believe it or not, I didn’t bring you because I knew you’d be brilliant arm candy. I actually like talking to you.”
“So you weren’t checking me out when you walked behind me?”
“Of course not. Would I do something like that?”
“I know exactly what you do, Mister Zabini.” I think the champagne is taking its effect. I feel distinctly light-headed.
“This isn’t like you, Susan.”
The dance ends and another begins.
“No,” I agree. “I think I have drunk too much champagne.” I am making sure I say everything very clearly and articulately.
“I’ll make sure you don’t embarrass yourself in public.”
“You do that.”
We stop for a break and sit down on one of the lounge chairs that have appeared around the ballroom floor. I rest my head on Blaise’s shoulder. “I like this dress a lot,” I say.
Blaise smirks. “So do I.” Then, he whispers into my ear, “I’d like to get you out of it too.”
“So this is the sort of proposal everyone talks about?”
“Any objections?”
I shake my head and he leaves to thank the hosts properly. I sit up and wait on his return, when Pansy Parkinson sits down beside me. She’s elegantly dressed in velvety green material and her hair has lilies in it. “Bones.”
“Parkinson.”
“How’s the night going?”
“Good. Blaise and I are just about to leave.” I have no idea why she’s talking to me but I figure if I answer her questions she’ll go away.
“Has he asked you yet?”
“Yes.”
She sighs happily. “You said yes.”
“Of course,” I say, puzzled.
“Okay, cheerio,” Pansy trills and rushes off to her date, a rabbity-looking young man in pinstripes.
Blaise comes back. “Ready to go?”
We apparate out, Blaise holding my arm so that I don’t splinch myself unintentionally. When we reach his appartment he kisses me hungrily. “I’ve been wanting to do that all night.”
“Me too.” I pull at his jacket while he rips open the clasps of my robes. There’s something in the pocket, something hard. I feel around inside and pull it out. A jewellry box.
“Suse, no …” The lust is gone from his eyes and they’re filled with something more like panic.
I open it. Sparkly, shimmering, diamonds. “Damnit Blaise!”
“You said you liked diamonds,” he replies weakly. Maybe I had too much to eat, because my robes seem tighter, constricting the flow of oxygen to my lungs.
“So you bought me an engagement ring?” I can’t believe this. I can’t. It’s insane. Oh Merlin, I’m going to die. “You know how I feel about relationships.”
“Susan, wake up and smell the coffee. We’re in a relationship. We go on dates, we have dinner, we fuck.”
“I don’t do relationships.”
“You talk a lot of shit, Bones. You’ve been in a relationship since you fell into my arms three years ago.” He’s angry. Red stains his cheeks.
“If I talk so much shit why were you going to propose?” This isn’t happening.
“Because I love you.”
Maybe I’ll wake up now. “What?”
“I love you. You and all your crazy theories, your ‘I’m such a loner’, your inability to see beauty in anything - especially yourself. You.”
“Merlin, this is such a cliché.”
“You want it to be original? Fuck, Susan. Love is a cliché. You can’t do it originally.”
“Why couldn’t things have stayed the way they were?” My mascara is running down my cheeks now, even though I don’t cry.
“Because real life isn’t like that,” he replies, looking miserable. “And I don’t want our life to be like that.”
“I need to not be here right now. Please don’t contact me.” I make my voice as cold as possible and apparate back to the flat.
They’re all still up. “How was it, Susan?” Lavender asks. Something in my eyes stops her from going further.
“Fantastic. I had a wonderful time. I’m tired and I’m going to go to bed.”
I perform a silencing charm on the walls, colapse on my bed and cry myself to sleep. I don’t change out of the beautiful red robes. I don’t wash the makeup from my eyes. I don’t respond to the knocks on my door.
When sleep comes, I forget everything.