A/N: This is my first ever story and is written for the Golden Snitch forum's Movie Madness: Mean Girls contest on behalf of Ilvermorny School of Witchcraft and Wizardry for house Horned Serpent.

Prompt: Object #5 Khaki pants and flip-flops: Write about a character trying to set a new fashion trend.

Word Count (not including A/N): 1,491 words

Draco slipped quietly into Muggle Studies, just before the bell rang. He hurried over to his usual seat, behind Luna and next to Hermione. He gave the brunette a small smile, and she returned it.

Professor Coote stepped out of the office that was adjacent to the classroom and faced her small class of 7th and 8th year students. Draco had been one of the few (and the only Slytherin) that had taken the opportunity to come back and he had eventually been accepted into the Gryffindor circle, much to the surprise of the Wizarding public.

"As of this class, you will be engaged in a rather hands-on project for the next two weeks. You will each be assigned an aspect of Muggle life and be expected to apply it to your own."

Draco's interest peaked. At first in an effort to be put in contrast to his father, but then out of genuine interest, Draco had become fascinated with Muggle music. If his assignment was music, this project would be a cinch.

His mind brought him back to the present as he realized Coote had been assigning topics to the class and was already near the end of her list. "Ms. Weasley – food, Ms. Lovegood – entertainment, Ms. Granger – internet, and that leaves Mr. Malfoy with-" she paused and seemed extremely amused. "-Fashion."

"Just brilliant," Draco muttered to himself as the class burst into peals of laughter.

"Okay, I think I've got it." Draco muttered to himself as he adjusted his sandals. "How do I look?" Draco asked Seamus and Neville as he dramatically opened the bathroom door. They both just managed to keep straight faces and assure him with thumbs-up and pats on the back. "Amazing. Exactly like a Muggle. You're killing it."

Draco smirked to himself. Raised to be the perfect pureblood heir, and yet he still managed to look like a classy Muggle man in under 24 hours. "Great! Here, can you take the picture?" He handed Neville the camera and posed. The flash went off three times before Neville handed it back. Draco tucked it away safely in his trunk before strutting down the stairs, eager to show off his new look.

Hermione stood near the portrait hole, waiting impatiently for Draco, Seamus and Neville to come down so they could go to breakfast. She heard a door in the boys' tower slam open and footsteps walking quickly down the stairs. She stood up straighter, anticipating her friends. She just managed to swallow her hysteria and put a small over her mouth to cover her raging smirk before Draco saw her.

Draco was wearing a cropped crochet vest over a faded black t-shirt with capri sweatpants and– wait for it–sandals with toe-socks. And, to accessorize (she assumed) a pair of aviator sunglasses. Hermione gave him a thumbs-up and started out of the portrait hole, where she allowed herself to snort, once. Then, the three boys came through the portrait hole and she had to contend with biting her cheek as Draco strutted down the hallway. She didn't dare make eye contact with Seamus or Neville, because she knew that if she did, she wouldn't be able to keep it together.

As he swaggered to the Great Hall with Seamus, Neville and Hermione, Draco noticed that he was getting a lot of looks. And he meant a lot of looks. They're all jealous of the socks, he thought. Yup, definitely the socks. From across the hallway, some Ravenclaw girls pointed and giggled. Draco winked at them and the giggling tripled. Maybe dressing like a Muggle isn't so bad.

Draco downed the last of his pumpkin juice and noticed Seamus looking around. He realized that Dean still hadn't been down to breakfast. Draco shrugged, he had probably just slept in. As he turned back to his eggs, the boy in question came running down the middle of the Hufflepuff and Gryffindor tables, rushing to grab something before the House Elves brought the platters back down to the kitchens. Dean managed to snatch two pieces of toast and an apple before the trays disappeared off of the table. He pouted as he slid into the seat across from Draco and took a bite of the apple. He then promptly spit it out and started choking on his laughter while Seamus hit him on the back.

"You okay?" Draco asked.

"Never mind me, what the hell happened to you, mate? You look like a bloody cir-" he stopped and noticed Hermione waving her hand in front of her neck and mouthing "no" repeatedly before Draco noticed. But, the damage was done, and Draco followed Dean's gaze to Hermione's wild gestures.

"What? I'm missing something, aren't I? Is it the glasses?" He started fiddling with his clothes, smoothing imaginary wrinkles out of his vest.

"Um, where are your robes?" Dean asked.

"Oh, it's my Muggle Studies project," Draco informed him proudly. "Yeah, I have to dress like a Muggle for two weeks. What do you think? Do I look convincing enough?"

Dean opened his mouth, then closed it again, and then repeated the actions, trying to find words to tell Draco how convincing he looked. Draco was really starting to worry that he had gotten something wrong when Seamus let out a snort. That set Neville off, and soon the two of them were howling with laughter, almost falling out of their seats, the center of attention of the whole Great hall, which only drew more attention to Draco and his ensemble. Dean eventually gave up and joined them, shaking with silent hysteria. Draco turned to Hermione, who looked torn between joining the other three and feeling incredibly sorry for the Slytherin.

Draco felt his face heat up as everyone who hadn't seen him so far started pointing and jeering, especially the Slytherins who had known him for at least a few years before. "Well, you see, Draco, this might be quite what Muggles wear–" Hermione started, and at the expression of recognition and then fury on his face, she added quickly, "–on a daily basis, I mean, I'm sure some… Muggles… wear them?" She backed away at the murderous look on her friend's face. Draco then took her by the arm and dragged her out of the Great Hall.

I can't believe them! They didn't tell me this whole time! Draco fumed as he dragged Hermione to an alcove in the hallway. "You guys didn't tell me this whole morning! Those Muggle catalogs you showed me– I did everything you said– and Seamus and Neville didn't tell me anything!" Draco exploded.

"I thought you said you had it covered! And we were going to be late to breakfast so I didn't want to say anything! But, you have to admit that was pretty–" Hermione stopped as Draco looked livid again. "Okay, okay how about this? I promise that tonight I'll help you Owl Order other clothes, nice ones, that Muggles actually wear. Deal?" Hermione stuck out her hand hopefully. After a pause and a menacing glare, Draco shook her hand.

"Deal."

The project had gone quite well, Draco thought as he finished off his essay 2 weeks later. He glanced at the clock. Damn, it was 2:00! He put a drying charm on the essay, put his ink and quill away, and lugged his stuff up to the dormitory. He flopped down on his four-poster without changing and fell immediately asleep.

The next day, Draco woke to find that it was 8:45 already, dammit again! He hopped out and quickly pulled some clothes out of his trunk, not noticing or caring which ones they were, brushed his teeth, grabbed his bag and raced down to the Great Hall, where he grabbed a piece of toast before high-tailing it to Muggle Studies, on the fifth floor of the west tower. By the time he arrived, he was sweaty and out of breath, but he was there and he had his project. He strode into class, which had just started, and got out his things as quickly as he could, oblivious to the noise he was making. He had already sat down with his project on his desk when he heard the laughter from behind him. It was Seamus, Dean and Neville.

"Oi, what happened this morning? Project's over, don't you know?" Seamus called. Draco looked down and gasped, horrified as he realized that he had hurriedly pulled on his horrendous outfit from two weeks ago that he had discarded at the bottom of his trunk two weeks ago.

Professor Coote then came to his desk to collect his project and glared her nose down at him. "Mr. Malfoy, care to explain your–attire?"

"Um… It's a, uh…. fashion statement." he lied.

"A fashion statement?"

"Um, yeah?"

She stared skeptically at him. Finally, after a full minute in which the class had held their breaths, she said, "10 points to Slytherin."