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Old October 6th, 2006, 3:10 am
House_Elf_21  Undisclosed.gif House_Elf_21 is offline
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Join Date: 31st May 2006
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Re: The Unintentional Matchmaker

Chapter 7, Part III: Getting Ready

AUTHOR’S NOTE: I GOT A LITTLE IMPATIENT…AGAIN…SO CHAPTER SEVEN WILL NOW BE DIVIDED INTO FOUR PARTS. ENJOY!


S. Snape Mission Log, Entry 30

OCTOBER 31

Bott has only lost thirty collective points for Gryffindor this week (I must look into that) and has received no detentions. Dumbledore, naturally, is ecstatic (note to self: never stand in front of the Headmaster when he is…jubilant; he tends to spit when he orates.)

Ophelia seems to be playing her role nicely. I can understand why Dumbledore recommended her in the first place, though I do not appreciate her insufferable smiling; it makes me feel queasy.


This parchment will self-destruct in 5, 4, 3, 2….

BANG!

***

“You need ‘what’?” laughed the cashier at Countess Clarissa’s Costume Boutique.

“I need lilac robes,” Tristan muttered.

“Sorry, I don’t think I caught that….”

“I SAID I NEED LILAC ROBES! Happy now? The whole store knows.” Indeed, the entire store had stopped and was staring in his direction.

“And what else did you need?” the wizard persisted.

“I need a Lockhart wig.”

“What’s that—”

“I NEED A LOCKHART WIG, all right?”

The ladies gasped and applauded as the cashier pulled a perfect replica of Lockhart’s hair out from under the counter. The men just groaned.

“Will you be wanting the teeth as well, sir?” asked the wizard taking his measurements.

Tristan grimaced. “No, that’s all right.”

An hour later, Tristan emerged from the Boutique, a bag in each hand and a scowl on his face. The sales clerk had mentioned several times that Tristan had been the first wizard to purchase lilac robes, and that Clarissa’s Costumes had plenty more Lockhart wigs in stock if his ever needed replacing.

“Git,” Tristan muttered as he headed down the crowded streets of Hogsmeade. His next stop would be Honeydukes, where he would pick up some refreshments for the party. He was just about to enter the store, when he spied Fred and George Weasley carving pumpkins with lazy flicks of their wands.

“Oi, Tristan! Where are you slinking off to?” Fred demanded, throwing a handful of pumpkin guts at George.

“Oh, just stopping in Honeydukes,” Tristan said in what he hoped was a casual voice.

“What’s in the bags?” asked George, throwing the guts back at Fred.

“Just stuff.” Tristan shifted uneasily; he hadn’t told the twins about Pax and the party. As far as they knew, he still despised Pax and was avoiding her at any cost.

“Countess Clarissa’s, eh?”

“Yeah.”

Fred and George looked at each other. “You wouldn’t be going to a costume party, now would you?” asked Fred.

“Why, Sherlock Holmes!” cried George.

“Who?”

“Never mind. Oi, how come we weren’t invited?”

“Er, well, it was a, er, special invitation,” said Tristan, undoing his collar button. It was starting to feel rather warm out.

“You’ve got a lass then?” they laughed.

“Y—No, it’s not like that.”

“Ooh, must be dead ugly if you’re taking that tone. Who is it?”

“Anybody we know?”

“You two are sounding like a pair of girls,” Tristan laughed weakly.

“Why, Tristan, love,” said George in a high-pitched voice; “I thought I was the only girl for you.”

“No,” Fred cut in, his voice even higher, “he said that I was the only girl for him.”

The two of them each grabbed one of Tristan’s arms and began pulling him back and forth. “Mine!” “He’s mine!” “No, he’s mine!”

“All right, you two!” Tristan yelled, fearful that one of them might peek into his shopping bags.

“So, who is it?” the twins asked in unison.

“Just some girl. Now geroff!” Tristan pulled himself free and hurried into Honeydukes.

“May I help you?” asked a kindly witch from behind the counter.

Tristan looked at the counter display for a moment. There were red Jelly Slugs that crawled around on the counter, leaving a trail of goo behind them. There were caramel apples that gave you a small electric shock when you bit into them, and mounds of Fantasy Fudge that made the eater’s cheeks sparkle and tingle, as demonstrated by a young witch with purple hair. “I think I’ll get two pounds of Fantasy Fudge.”

“Two pounds? You must be going to a party—A costume party?” The witch began weighing the fudge as she eyed Tristan’s shopping bags with interest.

“Yes,” said Tristan, sorting out assorted coins from his money pouch.

“Taking someone special?” she asked.

“W-what makes you say that?” Tristan could feel his face turning scarlet.

“Just a woman’s intuition.” When Tristan gave her a puzzled look she explained, “You have a certain aura about you.”

“Oh.” Tristan paid for the fudge, thanked the witch, then sneaked out the back way; the last thing he needed was Fred and George’s persistent teasing…he’d get enough of that from his male peers for dressing as Lockhart.



Last edited by House_Elf_21; October 6th, 2006 at 8:55 am.
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