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Volume II: Burn

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This story is No. 2 in the series "Scriptificus Totalus". You may wish to read the series introduction and the preceeding stories first.

Summary: The continuing series posted on livejournal written by 5 authors crossing Buffy and Harry Potter and chronicling the rebuilding of the Watcher's Council in that universe.

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
Harry Potter > GeneralscriptificusFR18167318,59518307202,1341 Mar 1017 Jul 10Yes


May 1, 2005 12:28 PM

Blaise was standing in the middle of the main parlor. He'd decided to go after decorating it today. It was terribly old fashioned, at least to his style, but he appreciated the class and sophistication it brought to the room. All the furniture had been cleared away, the paintings removed, and the rugs rolled up and placed elsewhere. He stood in the middle of the empty room and slowly turned around, taking in the space. It was hard to imagine it without the decorations he'd grown up with as a child.

He spun around when the floo activated.

Draco stepped out with Pevensie behind him. "Guess who's fifteen today? We're going shopping. Quit being such an antisocial wanker and join us."

Blaise rolled his eyes. "I'm not being antisocial. You're busy and I'm busy, but I can take a break." With a sigh, he abandoned thinking of the room. "Where are we going? Paris? Tokyo? Milan? I promised next time I was in Barcelona I'd stop by to see Sofia."

"Tokyo fashion?" Pevensie looked gobsmacked. "Dude."

"I was thinking more high end Diagon for her first outing. We can do Tokyo another time. Also, I am in no mood to share you with relatives today. I'm not feeling the long distance apparating anyhow. She's been wanting some robes. We can do that here."

Blaise snickered. "You just don't like Tokyo because last time we were there, people wouldn't stop calling you an albino." He turned to head out of the room. "Let me change and then we can leave."

"Why do you have to change?" Pevensie asked.

Draco just shook his head a shushed her.

Blaise turned and gave her a strange look. "Because if we're going to the high end part of the alley, I can't be caught wearing jeans. I need a suit, at least."

Pevensie looked down. She was wearing her boots a skirt and a tee shirt.

"There's no point," Draco said. "Just go change, Blaise."

He did so quickly, but still made himself presentable. Blaise really hoped there was no one there that he might recognize, like his ex-girlfriend. That was a disaster waiting to happen. When he reappeared in the empty parlor, he quickly pulled on his jacket. "How are we getting there?"

"I know you," Draco said. "We need to apparate so you'll still look pretty."

Pevensie giggled. She was excited about shopping with them. Draco had threatened her with heels again, though. He said Blaise could show her how to walk in them.

"You laugh but I'll get the best service. We better go by Diana's. I don't give a shit what we buy as long as we get some fois gras and their excellent wine. I'm actually quite hungry."

They apparated into the alley and Blaise looked around. "So you just want a robe for your birthday? That's it? I wish my girlfriends were as easily impressed as you."

"That's all she wants," Draco replied. "That is not all she is getting. We need heels. Nothing too outrageous. I am determined to get her out of these boots. They're fine for slaying, but she tried to wear them to Mother's."

Blaise nearly walked straight into a woman coming out of shop. He quickly side stepped and regained his balance. "What? You went to the Manor? Both of you?"

The unspoken "Was Lucius there?" hung in the air.

"I got to meet Lucius," Pevensie said excitedly. "He was nice, but it was only to make Draco upset, and then Draco was all snarky and asked if the everybody was having evil meetings and tea parties and stuff. He also sort of joke-accused his dad of being behind the marks burning. That flew like a lead balloon."

Blaise stopped in the middle of the alley, uncaring at the glares for blocking the walkway. "Are you mad? Do you have a deathwish?"

"I was feeling him out to see if he had anything to do with it. His facial expression says no."

Pevensie shook her head. "Don't let him lie to you, B. It was equal parts feeler and piss dad off royally."

Blaise made a face at her. No one ever called him B except Draco, and it was weird hearing it come from a female mouth. "I'm just glad he didn't decide to hex you for the hell of it. You're an idiot."

They arrived at one of the dress shops and when they stopped in front of the door, it opened for them and they walked in.

"Well, this outdoes Walmart."

Draco looked at her. "Is that a market where walls are sold? I do not understand your Americanisms sometimes."

"It's the store most of my clothes came from growing up," Pevensie replied, looking around. "This is better."

The owner of the shop came over to them and gave a little bow. "Mr. Malfoy, Mr. Zabini, it is such a pleasure to have your patronage." They were lead to a small alcove where the upper-class buyers were allowed to stay.

Blaise settled on a couch, content to watch. "Mmm, I love being rich."

The owner stayed close. "It has been some time since we saw you last, Mr. Zabini, but Mr. Malfoy, your lovely mother was perusing our store just earlier this week. Your usual, Mr. Zabini? And what for you and the young mistress, Mr. Malfoy?"

"What are we doing over here?" Pevensie asked. "I'm not too good to shop with the regular people. Or are you guys ashamed to be seen with a slayer?"

Draco elbowed her. "He's wanting to know if you'd like any tea or snacks."

"Really? Oh my god, that is so weird." Pevensie looked at the owner. "Sure, man. Tea would be cool."

Draco pinched the bridge of his nose. She had no civility. He adored her, but she really was not ladylike sometimes. "I'll have tea also and perhaps a bit of Honeyduke's chocolate. I think I may need it to fortify myself. We both take our tea with lemon and two sugars."

Blaise snickered when the owner looked like unsure of himself for a moment before becoming composed and walking off. "And I thought today was going to be boring."

"Can I get a pimp cane like your dad's?"

Draco looked at her in horror.

"For a weapon. Looks all cool then... bam! Short staff skills. Not merely decorative and pimp-like in my hands."

A salesgirl approached. "Good day, gentleman. Are we after the entire men's selection today?"

Blaise was still chuckling. "Nothing for me today, Genevieve. I'm just here to look pretty. It's the little one who's getting a makeover today."

"I'm just getting wizard-y robes, but like, girl style."

"Sit," Draco said, pointing to the seat next to Blaise. "We'll need women's robes in black, I think. Then I'd like to see what you have that's more modern. Also we will be wanting a pair of black heels. Just bring an array, and we'll pick what we like. Nothing too wild. It's her first pair."

He looked at Blaise to see if he wanted to add anything. A boy brought out a tray with their refreshments.

Blaise lifted his wine and took a sip. Excellent as usual. "I could be cruel and request a dress, you know. Get you out of those skirts and into a proper formal attire. Then Draco could take you to the balls his parents throw."

Pevensie looked at Draco in alarm.

"She's have to learn to dance first. But wouldn't that irritate all the old purebloods. It's a thought."

"I wear skirts all the time, boyo," Pevensie snapped.

"Well you can't wear a skirt to a formal event of any sort, and they wouldn't even let you in with boots. You need a proper dress and your hair would have to be pulled back. Do you even own any other shoes other than boots?" Blaise asked, looking at her feet. "Genevieve, bring us other shoe options as well."

"I have those ballet flats. My feet do not feet protected at all in those. And if I have to kick someone in face face, there's a good chance it's flying off of my foot."

Genevieve looked horrified for a whole second before she recovered. She was likely wondering why Pevensie would have to kick anyone in the face. Draco snickered discreetly.

Blaise rolled his eyes and looked to Draco for help. "Really? No shoes other than these? She's never worn a heel and kicked a bloke with them, has she? Those hurt worse than clunky footwear, I promise."

"I'm fifteen. Not a lot of formal occasions when the fosters live in a trailer park and are only interested in you knowing how to make a tequila sunrise."

"Just bring us what's in fashion for feet," Draco said. "And some new black boots."

Blaise shook his head and sipped his wine. "Are you at least willing to try some color? Some that's not in your hair?"

"I have different colored tee shirts."

Draco sighed. "She likes short skirts. Please bring us an assortment in dark colors for the slaying maybe some dresses. Cotton, sturdy and stain resistant. Also dark colors. But I'd like to see some jeans and slacks and some color as well. Blue is likely her color, considering her eyes, but let's attempt green as well. Maybe even some pink to go with her hair."

Genevieve smiled.

"None of that light, baby pink either. The richer the better," Blaise added and he peered over at Draco. "So, anything else important going on, since apparently I am ignoring you?"

"Pevensie got in a fight at work this week. It was very irritating to be called away to deal with it. Is this how my parents felt when Snape would owl them? If so, I don't like it. Longbottom flooed me. It interrupted my watching Lo- er work."

Blaise chuckled. "I imagine it's just how your parents felt. You weren't exactly an angel during school. My mother was never owled because of my behavior."

"Because you did not get caught. I'd get angry and not care if I got caught."

Pevensie frowned when dresses and skirts in bright colors started marching their way. "Oh crap. Can't I just have the black dress robes? I don't need anything else. Really."

Blaise made a face at her. "Of course you need something else. Black is universal, yes, but you need color. Black can be so... boring sometimes."

"It also hides you when you're hiding in the shadow behind a headstone. Also," Pevensie said. "Blood leaves stains and cotton is cheap."

The store employees helping them kept pausing and looking at her in alarm. They were probably wondering what in the hell had been brought into their store. This kind of talk was not even bandied about in this sort of setting during Death Eater times.

Blaise huffed. "You're not killing things every second of every day! Draco, talk some sense into her! I don't know whether this is irritating or pathetic."

"Hey, just because I have a job and you're a slacker, don't be all pissy."

"Pevensie," Draco said. "I would like you to do more than slay and study and train."

"Fine. Suit me up, bitches."

Blaise snorted and choked on his wine.

One of the younger boys helping them look a bit faint. Draco shooed all the salespeople with a wave of his hand. They knew from experience that if Blaise or Draco required anything, they'd call.

"Next we are going to talk about public manners," Draco said as he starting going through the racks brought to them and picking things out.

Pevensie flopped down next to Blaise. "How are things going? You know with the not... you know?"

Blaise stared at her strangely after making sure wine hadn't spilled on him. "What are you going on about?"

"With the not selling black magic stuff," she whispered. "Are you okay?"

He rolled his eyes and stood up. "We are not discussing this. You shouldn't even know about it, and I refuse to talk to you, of all people, about it."

It was a sore subject, and he regretted it sometimes. Then he remembered why he stopped and it strengthened his resolve.

"We're not discussing it. I'm asking how you're doing. What? That's not allowed? I'm not permitted to worry about you? Bite me. I worry."

He made a face. "How I am doing is personal, and not for little girls to worry about. You need to worry about fitting into the clothes. It's your birthday. Stop thinking about others."

"But we're friends and stuff. If you're not happy or someone is giving you shit, I want to help."

This was not where he wanted this conversation to go. He had enough mothers and motherly-sisters to last him a lifetime. "And I want to help you." Blaise grabbed a dress and held it out. "Try it on."

Pevensie snatched the dress. "I'm going to find a way to help make you happy again."

She stormed to a dressing room.

Draco walked up and poured himself some tea. "What was all that about?"

Blaise glared at the dressing room. "The little brat wants to check up on me and make sure I'm happy. Well, I'd be happy if she left me alone."

"Oh let her fuss. You should be honored that she does fuss. She doesn't give a shit about many people."

"I've got how many relatives breathing down my neck right now? It's nice to have someone not ask, you know." Blaise huffed. "And people wonder why I damn well left and hid for a week."

"She just likes you. You don't have to be so damned pissy about that. I mean, she was so brassed off at you before, I thought that was the end of it."

Blaise glared at Draco. "I can be damned pissy about it if I want. Not all of us were planning a revolt against their parents. It's bad enough that everyone's so happy about it. She's a bitch but she's still my mother."

"I can guarantee you that Pevensie doesn't give a rat's arse about your mum. It's you she wants to help. She never even met Calanthe, so why would she care about her? You know what you need? Willow time. That always helps clear my head."

He finished off his wine. "I don't care if Pevensie doesn't care about my mother. I still do. No amount of whatever time is going to change that or my decision to cut her out of my life. Now can we drop it? This isn't my time to talk to a mind healer or anything like that."

Draco sighed. Blaise just did not get it. It had nothing to do with his mother. It was about him. He was not just an extension of Calanthe.

Pevensie stepped out in a dress that she was in no way ever wearing again. Draco blinked. It was strapless and mini. She was all shoulder, neck, collar bone and leg.

"No way. You are too young for that."

Blaise tilted his head to the side. "I think she looks rather flattering in that. Cecelia liked to wear dresses like that. She was thin as a twig too."

"She might as well be naked. There's already inappropriate remarks about her parts floating about. No, you need cover. The legs, maybe, but no bare shoulder like that. Not yet."

"She can swear a sweater, Draco. It's not like she won't bloody the person who looks at her wrong."

"Doesn't exactly work if the bloke is a werewolf."

Pevensie rolled her eyes.

"Well short of dipping her in dog piss to keep it away, I think it's safe to say she'll have to deal with the werewolf. Do I need to find some sort of silver jewelry to discourage him from coming near?"

"He does think of me that way," Pevensie protested. "He thinks I have no shape. It useless to worry about it, and even then, he's way too hairy and dirty. Rowan is just a coworker."

Draco glared. He didn't like her being around boys. He used to be one. He knew how they were.

That name sounded familiar. Blaise closed his eyes and thought about all the werewolves he knew. The number was small, and his eyes snapped open when the memory came to him. "That little bastard nearly killed me. What are you doing hanging about him?"

"He works at Sweetbriar with me now. You can thank your buddy Oz for that. He nearly killed you? Him? What are you? Some sort of prancing lightweight? He's a goof."

"He side-along apparated me and the other werewolf to another country without any warning. Trust me when I say that it doesn't matter if he's a... goof."

"And that's bad?" Pevensie asked. "The no warning apparating?"

Considering there had been a very good chance he almost long a body part, including his head, Blaise nodded and went back to sit down. This was going to be a very long shopping trip.

"It's bad," Draco snapped. "Go put on something that covers more of you."
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