I'm starting a new story! Hooray!
I need to say that this story is… 'stolen' from the author livin4rain. Mainly because the author last wrote in 2006 and I feel this is too great of an idea to pass up. Let's do this!
Disclaimer: Really? You think so? If I was a billionaire I won't be wasting my time here. No way.
Chapter One. Forced Vacation.
"Ron!" Hermione snapped.
"Please, Hermione?" he begged.
"One, measly week vacation on fabulous tropical wizarding island in a five-star hotel? Hermione!" Ginny added.
"Come on, Hermione, you know it'll be fantastic!" Harry said enthusiastically.
"No! The office will fall apart! Lose order! Go into chaos!" Hermione argued.
"I'll help," Harry offered.
"Yeah, the office members will listen to you…oh," Hermione realized. The office members would be more than thrilled to have the Boy-Who-Lived as their temporary boss. It would be even better than having a member of the Golden Trio. And she knew it, too. "Fine," she sulked.
"Great! I knew it!" Ginny squealed. "Also, Hermione," she said seriously, "I bought the CUTEST bikini for you…package deal!" she added, seeing Hermione's face scrunch up into a scowl. "No other bathing suits!"
"You guys are so mean," Hermione groaned. "I'm going to pack. Harry, here are my week's plans." And she shoved a thick folder into his hands.
"Hermione!" he protested.
"I'll help you, mate," Ron said.
Just imagine how my colleagues would boast…having all three members of the Golden Trio as their bosses at one point in time, Hermione thought.
The next morning Hermione drove to the Ministry of Magic in her Maserati, wearing skintight light blue long jeans, a leather belt, a white, see-through blouse, and huge, glittery black hoop earrings. Perched on her head was a pair of large, square sunglasses, and on her feet were plain black flats. With a shiny, black designer handbag on her shoulder and a shiny blue luggage trailing behind her, she walked through the hall, ignoring any stares and whispers. Strolling to the receptionist, she said, "Hello. I'm Hermione Granger and am here to use the Portkey to the Island."
"Oh, Miss Granger!" the receptionist said, extremely nervous. "Right here, please…my name is Belle," she added.
"Well then, Belle, I hope I'm not late," Hermione said crisply.
"Of course not," Belle quickly said. "No, no!"
The two walked into a room where a leather-bound notebook was sitting on a polished oak table.
"The notebook has all the information you need inside, and is also the Portkey there and back, at ten o'clock precisely. If you miss it, you might have to wait another two hours for us to schedule another one," Belle stuttered.
"Thank you, Belle," Hermione smiled at the receptionist, who nearly fainted. Hermione touched the notebook.
"Three, two, one," Belle said, then Hermione was pulled to the Island.
Landing on a wooden dock on top of a clear, blue-green ocean, Hermione stumbled slightly before striding purposefully towards a pair of grand white marble doors. Putting a hand on the golden handles, she hesitated for a moment before pushing the (very heavy) doors open.
Inside was cool and luxurious, with leather couches, chandeliers, and lots of marble.
After checking in with the hotel receptionist, who was far more professional than the Ministry of Magic one, Hermione settled down on a leather armchair to wait as they readied her room.
A minute later the receptionist came back to say it would be a good twenty minutes before her suite would be ready.
"This way to the restaurant, Miss Granger," she said.
The restaurant was posh, and had huge windows and dark furniture. Hermione ordered a salad, and then settled herself once again on a soft couch to read a magazine.
Five minutes later she heard the door open again. The group of girls at one of the tables slightly far away from her began whispering and giggling. They obviously were spoiled, stuck-up purebloods, most likely Slytherins judging by the way they dressed (totally inappropriately) and their moods and faces (stuck up noses, turned down mouths and lifted, I-don't-care-about-you faces). The middle-aged gentleman eating spaghetti took no notice. She took no notice as well until a smartly dressed gentleman strode pass her couch to the bar.
Guess what?
The gentleman had platinum blonde hair, sharp features, and an air suggesting he disregarded everything and everyone around him.
Hermione had the feeling she knew him. That was bad.
Then he turned around, and completely ignoring the disappointed girls, strode over to her and took a seat next to her on the couch.
He turned to face her.
"I feel like I know you," he said suspiciously.
"You do," Hermione answered.
"But you're prettier than any of the girls at Hogwarts… Granger especially.
"Well, then," Hermione said, beginning to get angry, "I'm that mudblood you would taunt, tease, and prank!" She stood up and grabbed her luggage, though not before witnessing Malfoy's shocked face.
"Hold on a moment," he said, standing up as well. Hermione noticed he was a good head taller than her now…rather much diminishing her chances of giving him a good slap. "What I said earlier was true, you know," Malfoy said awkwardly, "I really do think you are prettier than the girls at Hogwarts. Besides, I didn't recognize you without your hair."
"Oh yes, my hair, right? The bird's nest? The thing you would say was infested with insects?" Hermione's temper was rising.
"Look, Granger," Malfoy said, putting two hands up in surrender, "I was afraid of my father!"
"Hmm." Hermione gave him a skeptical look, one brow arched. "A Malfoy admitting to being afraid. Now that's something new."
Malfoy threw his hands up in exasperation. "Why does everyone say something along those lines every time I try to be nice, apologize, or help?"
"Because it's unexpected," Hermione answered.
"Also," Malfoy said unexpectedly, "I never knew you were one to wear a see-through white blouse."
"I'm on holiday," Hermione blushed.
"Really? I was under the impression the mighty Hermione Granger never ceased working," Malfoy grinned.
Hermione couldn't figure out why she laughed. "Ron, Harry, and Ginny persuaded me to go on vacation," she said.
One of the giggly teens from the other table chose this moment to come over. Much to Hermione's disgust, she noticed the girl was wearing way too much makeup, fake eyelashes that were too thick and too long to be even the slightest bit realistic, earrings that really should be banned for their weight and length, the tiniest denim miniskirt, and an extremely tight-fitting sky blue tube top.
Fluttering her eyelashes and hooking her arm through Malfoy's, she said, "Hello, dear, why don't you ditch this ugly excuse for a woman and join me and my attractive friends over there?"
Hermione could not help but feel like she was about to be sick.
Malfoy gave her and extremely dirty look, and tugged his arm out of her colored claws—no, nails. "If you'd excuse me," he said coldly, "This is Hermione Granger and she is most definitely prettier than you and your friends."
The girl looked shocked, and gave Hermione an even dirtier look then said in a voice as sweet as honey, "Very well dear, we'll talk later!" Blowing him an exaggerated kiss (which Malfoy promptly avoided), she flounced off to her table, somehow managing to keep her skirt from showing…what should not be showed.
Malfoy turned back to Hermione.
"Thank you," she said, blushing slightly.
"For what? Those pathetic girls exist for clothing and makeup. I'd like to see what they're like without their makeup and in baggy pajamas," Malfoy scoffed.
"Still, you stood up for me," Hermione smiled, "so thank you."
He nodded.
"I think I know a spell," Hermione said excitedly. "Hang on…" she rooted through her massive brain capacity to search for the spell. "Okay, swish, downward swipe. Say Clatharium Malfunctious and imagine what you want them to look like."
"Oh, is this going to be fun," Malfoy smiled evilly.
"You have no idea how devious you look," Hermione shuddered.
"Clatharium Malfunctious!" Malfoy whispered, waving his wand.
A few seconds later many loud, piercing shrieks ripped through the normal quiet. Hermione glanced at the teenagers and chuckled. All of them had two pigtails in pink ribbons on their head, and their faces where completely devoid of makeup. Their earrings were Minnie Mouse decorated, and they were all wearing super baggy pajama pants of varying colors. Their shirts were extremely baggy as well, and had faded pictures of Mickey Mouse, Tweedy Bird, Tom and Jerry, and more cartoon characters. On their feet were lousy quality rubber flip-flops.
Malfoy suddenly turned to Hermione and grinned in her direction.
"Oh no you don't!" Hermione said warningly.
"I do," he said simply, but instead of changing her clothes to ugly pajamas, they became a gorgeous Slytherin green floor-length ball gown, with sliver silk ribbon and diamond decorations. She was wearing beautiful silver high-heels, teardrop shaped diamond earrings, and a teardrop-pendant silver necklace. On her wrist was a delicate silver watch.
"My turn," Hermione smiled at him.
In a flash he was wearing a dashing tuxedo. On his wrist was an expensive silver Rolex, and his cufflinks were gold. Heeled dress shoes created a click-clocking noise as he walked.
"Wait." Now he was wearing a silver shirt.
Malfoy offered Hermione his arm, and each pulling their suitcase, they exited the restaurant with their backs to the gaping girls.
In her suite, Hermione reflected on her day.
Malfoy had been nice.
They had changed the clothes of some very 'deserving' girls.
She had gone on vacation.
It certainly was a weird day.
Tell me how you like it! Should I continue?