Disclaimer: I do not own any of the elements of Harry Potter itself, however I do take credit for the storyline of this story and the makeup of extra characters.

EXTRA TIDBITS: Go to my profile page and please participate in the poll to let me know whether you want this story to have an angsty/tragic ending, or a happy ending. I myself adore happy endings, but one should always try new things, don't you think? Anyways, that's all I have to add now. Also, if you have any ideas for this story, message me so that I can mull things over! =)

OFFICIAL CHAPTER DEDICATION: NoLongerAMember2009 for being the first to put me on Author Alert!

CHAPTER 1 - Flashing Lights

...

Draco flashed dazzling grins at the glinting cameras and hordes of reporters that crowded around him as he stepped out of his new company's grand inauguration. Behind him, Blaise shuffled out and offered the ravenous press small smiles, but Draco knew that Blaise loathed being photographed.

They had just finished officially sealing the deal on "Sinful", an ambitious and radical company that was to become a monster in the material world. Draco and Blaise had founded it with the explicit wish of demolishing all other corporations in fields consisting of (but not limited to) perfumes, clothing lines, jewelry, and even lingerie. The two had excitedly come up with the idea of "Sinful" a year after graduating from Hogwarts; afterwards, both boys had diligently worked to attain prestigious degrees in International Magical Business and Commerce by taking the incredibly difficult MBEs (Magical Business Examinations) and receiving internships from some of England's wealthiest industries. Once Draco had garnered the essential financial resources and Blaise had rounded up an adequately sized and qualified labor team, it had been announced that the heirs of two of Europe's oldest wizarding families were to combine their brains and talents in order to create one of the finest and strongest companies of all time. Well, once that news had gotten around, there had been simply no end to the camera flashes and the torrent of questions and requests for press conferences. Draco had actually learned to enjoy the unwavering attention quite a bit. The only one who had seemed to have an aversion to fame and popularity was Blaise, and this fact was revitalized as the dashing young men found themselves surrounded yet again.

"Come on mate," Draco said, making his way down the marble steps and all the while winking at any female he found even remotely attractive. "It isn't so bad. You'll have to get used to this if you expect to work with me for the rest of your life."

Blaise hastened to Draco's side and mumbled as he averted his eyes from the bustling throngs, "I still don't like all of this publicity. Even though I know it's a big deal that we've finally pulled through with 'Sinful', I wish we didn't have to go through this pack of wolves every single time we accomplished something. I really think they only come here just to snap away pictures of us and put them in Playwitch."

Draco chuckled at his friend's disgruntled words while they both strode down the pavement towards the ornate iron gates. "Oh, and how often do you peruse the issues of Playwitch, Zabini? Sounds to me like you've developed a dangerously emasculating hobby…"

Blaise lightly punched the blonde and rolled his eyes. "Shut up, Draco. If there's anyone here with a masculinity problem, it's you. Merlin knows I'm amazed you haven't hit on anyone here yet!"

"No girl here is good enough to tempt me," Draco said haughtily. "It takes more than just a pretty face to lure Draco Malfoy."

"Oh yes, you're right," Blaise scoffed. "She also has to have breasts the size of cauldrons and a waist narrower than a quill. Really, Draco, let's not forget Precious Jameson, the woman you were so deeply enamored with, you forgot to notice that she had something you're very familiar with between her legs until it was too late!"

Draco felt himself turn a faint shade of pink as he remembered the horrendous fiasco involving a glamorous strawberry blonde. Everything had been moving along swimmingly until they'd headed up to his bedroom in order to, er, enjoy some quality time. Who could have predicted that Precious would have turned out to be some sort of treacherous, twisted hermaphrodite! Well, Drake, he thought to himself with a shudder as Blaise continued to chuckle beside him. That's what you get for hitting on someone named PRECIOUS.

The two young men made their way through the last of the rabid reporters and gracefully pivoted once before vanishing with a loud pop! A second later, they reappeared in one of the Malfoy Manor's many exquisitely furnished lounges. Blaise immediately reached for a glass and the bottle of firewhiskey lying on the table as Draco threw himself into a leather armchair.

Blaise took a long swig from his brimming glass before wiping his mouth and asking, "What's the matter, Drake? You're quiet."

Draco shrugged. "I'm just a bit tired, that's all. These constant conferences and all have been tedious at best."

Blaise nodded sympathetically. He himself had gone through the same torture alongside his best mate, and he could honestly say that he absolutely hated the media more often than not these days. "Maybe we need a night off," he suggested. "It's been a while since we've taken a break from all the pizzazz. In fact, Theodore's told me about a fun little nightclub in London called Wicked. Sounds intriguing enough, don't you think?"

Draco raised an eyebrow at the mention of their old acquaintance's name. "Theodore? You mean, Theodore Nott? I didn't know he was still lurking around these parts."

"He's quite reserved and a bit of an introvert, really. He prefers to stay away from publicity and live a quiet life of bachelorhood. I think that he was once rumored to have been sleeping with some Ministry bigwig, but that one got cleared up in less than a heartbeat after Theodore discreetly threatened to shut down the Prophet."

"Hmm. Interesting."

"Yes, very much so. But aside from that, what do you think about hitting up that club tonight?"

Draco stretched out his long limbs and nodded after a brief moment of consideration. "That sounds good. It has been quite a while since we've emerged from our figurative shells and actually enjoyed ourselves. And," he added with a smirk, "I and my poor bed have been getting rather lonely. Maybe I should entertain some company tonight, eh?"

Blaise rolled his eyes at his friend's lecherous expression. "Hold on, mate," he snickered. "You mean to tell me even your wretched hand has failed you? Ah, what a shame! I mean, now that I think about it, your right arm does seem to be getting a little out of shape…"

Draco wordlessly snatched three small glasses from the table in front of him and hurled them in quick succession at Blaise's head. Blaise, fortunately possessing rapid reflexes, ducked accordingly and shielded his head from the fragments of glass that were ricocheting off the wall behind him.

As a miniscule house-elf materialized in order to clean up the mess, the handsome, dark-haired boy remained crouching on the floor and snarled, "Was that really necessary?"

Draco sat back and examined his fingernails before snootily replying, "Well, you were the one who said my right arm is getting out of shape, so I decided to rev it up into action. Any objections?"

Blaise narrowed his eyes and gave a little snort of derision as he got to his feet and dusted off the shimmery sprinkles on his broad shoulders. "I'll expect to meet up with you here at around nine, all right? Try not to lose track of time as you coat yourself with your mummy's makeup."

Draco chose to ignore the parting jab while Blaise clambered into the flickering green flames of the fireplace and threw a handful of Floo powder into the logs. With a shout of "Zabini Residence!", Blaise whirled into thin air, leaving behind an amused Draco. Deciding to get prepared for the night's events, Draco quickly apparated to his room, fleetingly reveling in his supreme wealth and luxury – the entire chamber (about the size of the Great Hall of Hogwarts) was tiled with polished black marble. Dangling from the center of the highly ornate ceiling was a beautiful silver chandelier, and a short distance away from it was an enormous seashell-shaped bed. The firm high-rise mattress was covered with multiple silk sheets and a lush, thick, emerald set of covers that seemed to be singing Draco's name. Resisting the urge to dive into bed and drown in sleep, he ambled over to his immense walk-in closet and produced a charcoal gray buttoned shirt, tailored slacks, and a pair of murderously expensive shoes.

Once he had reassured himself that he looked gorgeous no matter what he wore - Merlin, Draco, you could waltz in wearing a ball gown and people would still call you the epitome of manliness – he strode over to his meticulously designed bathroom and stripped down to his birthday suit. Then, he jumped into the shower, eager to wash away all traces of his boring business persona and to get ready for an incredible night out.

After all, he was Draco Malfoy…what could possibly go wrong in the course of a few hours?

...

Hermione Granger was surrounded by women. Loads of women. In fact, she wasn't just surrounded by loads of women…she was surrounded by loads of beautiful women. In case you're wondering, no, she was not at some sordid whorehouse, nor was she beginning to "bat for the other team". She was simply standing in line at a studio, waiting to have a blatantly gay photographer snap shots of her. Every three minutes or so, a disgruntled girl would stomp out of the studio, cursing the photographer and vowing to shove her stilettos up his – well, you get the gist of it.

To be frank, it was a disheartening sight. In fact, Hermione was seriously starting to wonder what on earth she was even doing, standing in that line. It was only until one of her best friends, Andrea Lowski, indifferently rolled her eyes that she realized that she had spoken this thought aloud.

"Don't whine to me, Herms," Andrea warned as she swished her long dirty-blond hair over her shoulder. "This is one hell of an opportunity, and I am not going to let you bungle it up."

"I'm not whining," Hermione protested, even though she knew she was. "It's just that I'm not feeling too good watching girl after girl leave with slips of rejection in their hands. What makes you think I'm honestly the right kind of person for this?"

Andrea scoffed at Hermione's words and rummaged through her designer purse to extract a small tube of lipstick. She quickly dabbed on some color onto Hermione's lips before saying, "Honey, those dames don't have what the agency wants. Sure, they may be gorgeous, but they don't have that spark that really hooks someone in, you know?" She gave Hermione a solid once-over before continuing, "You're the type that gets picked for this sort of stuff. You're a good height, you've got the face, but what you've really got going for you is that personality of yours – I mean, you would be just another pretty girl if you weren't who you are, you know? For example, your eyes: they're brown, the most common eye color on the planet. But, your extraordinary intelligence and kindness shine through those eyes, causing those otherwise nondescript pools of murky brown to morph into brilliant, warm, chocolate orbs."

Hermione blinked at this rather unexpected and poetic speech, causing the other girl to shake her head and mutter, "Nah, don't worry about it. I think I used the word 'you' too many times in that pep talk anyways."

As yet another young lady threw herself out of the studio, Hermione felt herself slowly approaching the entrance to the photo shoot. Does this really have to happen, she complained in her head. I've never thought of myself as some exotic beauty, and it is obvious that the photographer wants someone special. I should have slammed the door in Andrea's face when she'd shown up at my flat that one day. God knows that I could have avoided getting myself dragged into this sort of mess! But really, who knew she'd be so blunt as to directly address my monetary problems? And it's not like I had much time to think! Being with Andrea is kind of like being thrown into a hurricane of movement and energy – she's just so active and deliberate with everything!

Despite her slight pessimism, Hermione smiled softly to herself as she thought back to the day when Andrea had arrived at her doorstep, fully ready to rescue Hermione from the dreaded black hole of fiscal deficiency.

FLASHBACK

Hermione sat down at the small table in her apartment's kitchen and buried her face in her hands. To her left was a crumpled up piece of parchment with a few scribbles on it, while to her right sat a moderately sized scroll embellished with the official seal of St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. As her tears rushed down between her fingers, Hermione heard someone knock loudly on her door. Struggling to compose herself and put on a mask of pleasantness, she hurriedly walked to her door and peered through the little hole to see who had shown up. With a small sigh, she turned the knob and allowed Andrea to happily skip inside - clearly the light-haired sprite was simply bursting with some good news.

Andrea dashed forward to plant a light kiss on Hermione's cheek as she gleefully exclaimed, "Well, Hermy darling, I've done it! I've finally gotten myself that job with the modeling agency I've been chasing all these months!"

Hermione threw her arms around her friend and heartily congratulated her. "Why, that's fantastic! I'm so happy for you! Of course, they would have been mad to have not given you the job, so this comes as to no surprise."

Andrea grinned like a Cheshire cat and plopped her petite body down on the maroon-colored couch next to her. "It's been hell, I tell you. Having to beg and grovel at the manager's feet was less than amusing, but I suppose it all turned out to be worth it in the end. After all, in what other job can you get paid for spending time with glorious, god-like men?"

Hermione laughed at Andrea's absurdly dreamy expression but realized that her laughter was sounding hollow. She closed her eyes for a moment as the blonde chattered on, willing herself to keep up a satisfactory appearance and to not rain on her friend's parade. Yes, it was a bit of a blow to hear that Andrea had managed to get her career underway while Hermione herself was still struggling to meet ends, but that was no reason to ruin someone else's happiness.

"Hermione?"

Hermione quickly opened her eyes to see Andrea observing her with half-concern and half-exasperation. "What? Oh, sorry. I must have spaced out."

"Yes, I noticed. Herms, what's wrong? You're not acting yourself. And Merlin, would you look at those gray patches under your eyes…something is up! Now spill!"

Hermione pinched the bridge of her nose as she thought back to the two letters lying on her table. One had been from her mother, asking her to send more money for medication. The other had been a regretful letter from one of the heads of St. Mungo's, a Healer Banks, informing her that she could not apply for the Preliminary Healer Certification Examinations without paying the rest of her tuition within two months.

"It's…nothing, Andi. It's just been a rather rough day."

"Well, explain!" cried Andrea as she leapt to her feet and stuck her hands on her hips. At 5'2'', she wasn't exactly a looming giant, but the expression on her face was enough to make anyone flinch. "I demand to know why you're so down in the dumps."

When Hermione did not comply with the direct command, Andrea knelt in front of her and took the silent girl's hands in her own. "Come on, Hermione," she whispered. "Tell me so that I can help you."

Hermione turned her head and replied in a slightly choked voice, "I don't think you can help me. I don't want to make you feel obligated to do something for me, either."

"This isn't about obligations. This is about you and me figuring something out so that we can fix whatever is going wrong in your life. But nothing will happen if you refuse to talk! So, please, just tell me what's going on."

Tears filled Hermione's weary, brown eyes again as she took a deep breath and began to explain everything. "All right, well, the problems started a month after the War ended. Voldemort was gone, yes, and Death Eaters were rapidly becoming nonexistent, but many people were still faced with horrible futures. You know that I had to modify my parents' memories and hide them in Australia to prevent them from being harmed." Here, Andrea nodded. "Well, when I went back to get them after everything had been resolved, I found only my mother – I can still see her now, frozen in the living room and chanting my father's name over and over again. I grabbed her by the shoulders and asked her innumerable times where Daddy was, but all she managed to whisper was that he was dead."

A heavy sadness filled Hermione's voice as she swallowed the painful lump in her throat and continued speaking. "I searched for days. Not an hour, not a minute, not a second was spared as I searched and searched all over the land. I was even joined by an entire team: Ron, Harry, Fred, George, Luna, and Ginny…but it was to no avail. Finally, we discovered that my father had been k-killed in a car crash."

Andrea gasped and covered her mouth with her hand. "Oh my god! I am so sorry! Oh, Herms…"

Hermione sniffled a little as she brushed away the teardrops clinging to her eyelashes. Then she steadied her shaking voice and trudged onwards with her tragic tale. "Mum lost all sense of purpose and joy after Dad died. She couldn't make herself eat or sleep or interact with anyone – all she did was stare day and night at a picture of Dad. We all wasted no time in making arrangements for her to return to England, and I refrained from letting myself go despite my own utter exhaustion with everything. The first thing we did when we got her back here was have her go to two different psych evaluations, one at St. Mungo's and the other at a Muggle hospital. A day later, the results came."

Hermione paused here and Andrea heard her friend valiantly stifle a sob.

"She – she was severely depressed," Hermione said feebly. "The doctors and Healers alike warned us that without proper medication, she would possibly begin to inflict harm upon others and herself. Those were the days when it began."

"When what began?" Andrea asked softly.

"When all my savings began to trickle away," Hermione replied, this time in a monotone. "Mum's antidepressants are extremely costly, and my stock of money wasn't exactly impressive in the first place. Of course, the gang tried to jump in and help by owling me checks every day, but I returned all of them with notes of gratitude. I couldn't just use their friendship like that. I don't want to be a parasite."

"You and your bloody Gryffindor pride," the former Hufflepuff irritably chided. "It couldn't have hurt just to have borrowed a little bit, right? No need to be all self-suffering."

"Andi, you know that there is no earthly way I'll be able to pay off all those loans within a reasonable time period," Hermione said in a rather sharp tone. "And here is the second half of my problems: if I do not find some way to pay the rest of my Healer course fees in the next two months, then I won't be able to take the final exams! Everything I've done these last few years will have been a complete waste!"

This impassioned declaration was met by a short silence before the other girl narrowed her eyes in deep contemplation and rose.

"Now, then…" Andrea muttered slowly as she began pacing the length of the room. "You could do it…maybe…but there is a small chance it might not work. Hmm, what should I…hmm…where would we…ah, maybe there! No, no, that wouldn't work…wait! Perhaps - "

"ANDREA LOWSKI!" Hermione interjected with an entirely nonplussed expression on her face. "Will you very kindly explain what, in the name of Merlin's pants, you are rambling on about?"

"Sorry, sorry, sorry," Andrea hastily apologized while taking Hermione by the shoulders and commencing to jabber on at high speed. "But, oooh, listen! I have the most fabulous idea. You will be 'discovered' by me, model scout extraordinaire, and then we'll take you to some fancy photo shoot somewhere where you shall enthrall everyone in sight and instantly become a mainstream media modeling sensation!"

"That. Is. Ridiculous."

"No! No, it's not!" Andrea fairly shouted as her pale blue eyes lit up. "It's an excellent plan. Look, you need some fast money and I would like a chance to prove my worth to the agency – it's the perfect job for both of us! Think about it: all you have to do is stand in front of a camera, wear glamorous outfits, and pout and smolder wherever needed! Where do you see a glitch in that?"

"For heaven's sake, Andi! I don't have a face that would frighten thestrals, but I've certainly never thought of myself as a beauty of any sort!" Hermione protested as she threw up her hands as if to ward away the pretty blonde.

"It doesn't matter," retorted Andrea. "Consider yourself discovered."

"But –" Hermione tried to argue.

"Oh, hush. Someday, you'll thank me."

And with that, still muttering to herself, Andrea departed as unexpectedly as she had arrived.

END FLASHBACK

It had sounded like an excellent plan at the time, Hermione bitterly thought. Now it just sounds like a recipe for disaster. I'm a brain, not a beauty! This isn't where I belong.

"Next," called a dull voice.

Hermione set her shoulders back and straightened her posture before stepping forward to receive a placard with the number 6241. Just before walking through the black velvet curtains which covered the studio entrance, she turned back to see Andrea wink at her and give her a double thumbs-up. Then, she swiveled her head back around, crossed her fingers, and entered the room of doom with a smile on her face.

Inside, a small beady-eyed man wearing deep purple robes snatched the placard out of her hands and jammed it into a slot in his camera. He then proceeded to nudge Hermione towards a set of white drapes that were obviously to serve as the background for her photos.

"Now then, darlin'," he said in an annoying nasally voice. "Let me see what we've got to work with 'ere."

He intently examined her, making her feel quite uncomfortable, and she avoided his unflinching gaze as he stroked the sparse collection of hairs sprouting from his weak chin. Finally, when he had completed his evaluation, he withdrew to bark some orders at a tight-lipped woman standing off to the side. Immediately, the woman scurried forward and adjusted tiny things on Hermione and her outfit, like the placement of a curl of hair, the amount of color in her cheeks, and the angle of her neck.

Once everything was set into place, the photographer ordered Hermione to pout a little bit and gaze as intensely as she could into the camera. Biting back a laugh as she did so, Hermione bore her eyes into the lens in front of her face and nonchalantly placed her hand on her hip as to slightly lower her short, beige dress. Then, just as the unnamed man's finger was about to press down on the shutter, he grinned a toothy, slightly yellow grin and said, "Congratulations, darlin'. You're in."

As the flash from the first photo died away, Hermione realized too late that her eyes had been overly wide in the picture due to her shock at being accepted. Oh, well. Couldn't be helped.

The next ten minutes consisted purely of brief instructions and camera flashes: SNAP! "Place your hand in your hair." SNAP! "Turn around and look at me over your shoulder." SNAP! "Open your arms to their widest point and throw your head back." SNAP! "Lower your head and look up at the camera." SNAP!

After the rather obnoxious man decided he'd had enough photos, he waved his hand to dismiss Hermione, and she gratefully left the studio. Outside, she came face to face with an expectant Andrea who was standing with raised eyebrows and an expression of Well-did-you-get-it-or-not.

Hermione, still a bit stunned that she had been allowed to pass, decided to have a bit of fun with Andrea. Putting on her best face of dejection, she dropped her gaze to the floor and said slowly, "Oh, Andi…I didn't…I just didn't…"

Andrea, thinking that her friend would confirm the worst, put her arm around Hermione's waist and gave her a little side squeeze. "Herms, baby," she murmured sadly. "Don't worry, we'll find you something else. Those old blighters can go rot in buggery for all I care. Come on, let's get out of this stinking place."

"I didn't get rejected."

"Hermione, there's no point in crying over spilt milk! We need to find – wait, what?"

A bright smile seeped into Hermione's face as she repeated herself. "I said, I didn't get rejected."

Andrea's face instantly became a flurry of emotions as the words sank in: initial confusion, dawning comprehension, and then sheer delight. "MERLIN'S PANTS, HERMIONE!" she shrieked. "ARE YOU TELLING ME THEY ACCEPTED YOU?"

Hermione nodded gleefully. "Yes, yes, Andi! They did! I don't know how or why, but they did!"

The two girls clasped hands and jumped up and down, all the while squealing in excitement and ignoring the glares that the other women shot. As Hermione gave Andrea a huge hug, Andrea exclaimed, "This calls for a celebration, m'dear! There's a new club I've heard about and I've been dying to try it out! Join me tonight?"

Hermione nodded enthusiastically, basking in the warmth of sweet progress. "Count me in! I have a reason to celebrate, and I certainly don't want to sit inside tonight and count the number of cat hairs Crookshanks has shed on my rug."

"Excellent! Then I'll pick you up at eight, okay? Oh, by the way," Andrea added with a wink just before she disapparated. "Dress as sexily as you want. I want you to let your hair loose and really live it up this evening!"

As the telltale crack of Andrea's disapparition echoed through the modeling agency building's hallway, Hermione grinned at the place where her blonde friend had just stood and murmured, "Ah, I intend to do just that."

...

Well, my dear ladies and gentlemen, I have returned! I am terribly sorry if this beginning chapter sucks...I've been swamped with all sorts of work these days, and I think I'm getting a little wonky in the head. Let me know what you all think! And I've decided to start doing chapter dedications, so whoever reviews first will receive the official dedication for chapter 2!