It’s kind of ironic, really. We blokes hate shopping with a passion and would rather be doing almost anything else at the moment but here we stand about to do just that to find some dress clothes for the wedding. What a bloke will do for love...matching accessories. I’ve never worn accessories in my life!
In the meantime, Susan, Lavender, Penny and Megan spend the day at my Grandparents estate being pampered and having their dresses hand made for them by Vera Wang, a dear friend of my Gran. Susan joked to me that there would likely be leg waxing and other sorts of waxing I don’t even want to think about (ouch!). Although, as I look around at the hundreds of shops looming before us I almost believe it would be worth it to lose a bit of hair. Oliver and Dean quickly disagree, recalling Susan’s birthday party and us bloke’s hairless aftermath complete with the embarrassing hair regrowth on Oliver’s request lest he look less than manly in the Puddlemere locker room. Shopping it is!
I start to head toward Madame Malkins Robe Shop, resigned to stand on a stool and listen to Madame Malkin, who sometimes has her mother in the shop to help out during busy times. She yells so loud when that old woman is there!No mother, he’s a boy...a boy mom! Pink won’t look good on him. Get him the Hogwarts robes...The Hogwarts ones!
she would yell, in a frenzy because nearly everyone had left their back to school shopping to the last minute. Old Mrs Malkin would then bring out her huge grammaphone shaped ear piece, clunk me in the head with it while swinging around to hear better, put on her half inch thick spectacles and stare at me wide eyed, commenting on my curly hair and that if I had
been a girl I’d look lovely in pink...Oh Merlin, I love Susan and I’d wear pink handkerchiefs and cumber buns for her if I have to but you’ve been a little short on mercy lately and well...would it kill you to save me from my friend’s teasing by letting her choose a more manly colour for us?
When I voice my concerns to my friends, Wayne replies. "Susan won’t choose pink, red heads don’t often wear that colour and it likely won’t occur to her to choose it for that reason but the other night at the chili cookoff, Megan was wearing a pink sweater and with her brown hair I thought it looked really nice."
We all turn to stare at Wayne.
"What colour was Lavender wearing," Oliver asks Wayne smartly, a knowing look in his eyes.
"No idea...Hey!" Wayne retorts, realizing he’s been caught noticing Megan and for a minute he smiles and it’s the first time I’ve seen his face light up since Hannah’s death. Unfortunately, this is when Wayne catches himself and changes the subject. I honestly think he thinks we’d hold it against him for looking at a woman other than Hannah and suddenly my heart aches a bit for poor Hannah too. She should be with Susan and her friends right now over at Gran’s doing what...well whatever it is women do at those little get togethers that we blokes get to go in after it’s all done and eat up all the left over finger sandwiches and cakes for. And then my heart aches just a little more. And Ernie should be here with us.
Somehow I’ve managed to walk right into the front door of Madame Malkins and bump my nose really hard on the door, curse loudly, and get the attention of old Mrs Malkin. Just my luck, she’s in today. Thanks a lot Merlin!
Now I’ll have a bump on the head from the huge earpiece as well as the one on my nose but at least my senses will be dulled for the talk of inseams and matching suspenders.
Old Mrs Malkin opens the door as my friends
continue to laugh hysterically at me. I wonder how old she is? She calls me dearie and compliments my long hair and says she has just the dress for me at which point I think Dean is going to hyperventilate. She reaches her gnarled fingers toward me to pull me in and now I wish I had cut my hair instead of pulling it back into a short ponytail. Oh, who am I kidding, she’s always called me a girl!
Oliver steps up to the little old lady and takes her hand and reading her lapel badge, tells her in his sweetest, most charmingly smooth voice that we don’t need any robes today.
"Okay, young man," says the old woman. Why is it she can see that Oliver isn’t a girl!
Even at her advanced age, I stare in awe as she checks out Oliver’s backside as we make our hasty retreat back into the street.
"Ub, Oliver," I say, pinching the bridge of my nose still and sounding like I’m under water, "We do deed tuxes. Why don’t we just ged id over wid?"
"Oh, we’re getting better than tuxes," Oliver assures me, heading for Twiliftt and Tattings. Ron grimaces and looks about to back out of the wedding party as he recalls Tara Twilfitt’s strange behaviour at the bar when we met up with the store owner’s daughter after having had her as our shopping guide. Ron looks almost comical when he hears that Oliver has personally requested Tara to help us with our fitting and Neville and Parvati’s friend Donzel has a close personal friend who works there who will also help us pick out our accessories
. I don’t know why I despise that word so much but it sounds so...feminine. All of us look like lemurs about to follow one another as we approach the shop.
Oliver is very mysterious as we enter Twilfitt’s and we are greeted enthusiastically by Tara who assures us that all of our items are here and ready to be fitted. Somehow at this point, I think the blokes are up to something as they all head toward the men’s department. Well, at least no one offered me a pink dress here...