Chapter 7: Models

Some girls get swept up in the lifestyle- clubbing and partying with celebrities. You can't live your life like that, though. It's fake. — Gemma Ward


21 April, 2004

10 days and 22 looks to go

The best cures for the designer's block were, Hermione discovered, an all-girls movie-and-sushi night, a few days away from your psychotic boss, a dozen red roses sent to your apartment and a tea date with your highschool sweetheart.

Not that Victor Krum was really her highschool sweetheart. To be honest, Hermione wasn't really desperate for a relationship right now either, but it was nice to wake up with twelve perfect red roses on your pillow, and a card signed "With love, Victor". It made a girl all warm and fuzzy inside.

In fact, it put Hermione in such a fine mood that she managed to finish a record-shattering six looks in three days, including a crimson floor-length evening gown that she was definitely saving for herself after the show.

And, well, it had been more than just her rosy outlook that spurred her creative progress. Hermione charmed her sewing machine so it could do basic stitching on its own while she sketched the patterns. Then, she charmed her scissors so they could cut out the patterns when she worked on the draping of the other dresses. Multi-tasking had always been her forte, and now, she was more grateful for that than ever. It felt as if she had grown a few more hands with complimentary brains attached.

Okay, so she backtracked a tiny bit on her work ethos, but pragmatism was the byword of the day.

Hermione had just finished her small breakfast consisting of a small apple and a piece of peanut-buttered toast when the phone rang.

"Good morning," she said cheerfully into the mouthpiece.

"Good morning, Miss Granger," came Lindsay's voice. "Mr. Malfoy wants to meet you in Conference Room 1806 at eleven. It's on floor 18, first door on the right. You can't miss it."

"Okay, I'll be there, thanks Lindsay."

Chewing her lips a tad anxiously, Hermione grabbed her coffee and made her way to her workplace.

She sincerely hoped that Malfoy wasn't still angry about the wasabi incident.


Draco didn't particularly look forward to seeing Granger either.

He still didn't know what had gotten to him that night when he threw the pretty tantrum like a little girl. He had acted like he was bloody -ugh, he hated that word- jealous of Krum, which OF COURSE wasn't true. Merlin, that must be the stupidest thought that ever crossed his highly intelligent mind. Period.

So he was going to erase that unpleasant snippet from his memory, as simple as that.

He looked up when someone knocked on the door, and as expected, Granger entered cautiously, dressed in a formal suit instead of the tshirt and jeans ensemble she had on that night. She glared at him from the door, across the expanse of heavy black carpet, and he glared right back. He figured it was some sort of reflex his nervous system had developed through the many years in Hogwarts.

"Granger, take a seat," he nodded coolly at the chair placed a few paces from him on his right.

She complied and said crisply, "Malfoy, I hope you'll keep this meeting short and precise. I still have plenty of work to do."

He snorted. "Granger, do you think I'd willingly stay in the same room with you if not for entirely professional reasons? Of course I'll keep the meeting short."

"Good," she shot him a glare.

"Good," he echoed, then got straight to the point. "We're seeing a handful of models today."

She gaped. "Models?"

"Yes, models," he drawled. "What do you think will model your clothes? House elfs?"

Granger scowled and he was certain she was about to launch a S.P.E.W. speech when a knock on the door cut her short.

"Mr. Malfoy?"

He saw Granger perk up when the unfamiliar young woman shyly let herself in.

"Granger, meet my new secretary, Elanor," he said. "Elanor, this is Hermione Granger."

Elanor stopped before their desk and smiled brightly at Granger, gushing, "Oh, Miss Granger this is such an honour, I mean, you've been in all the newspapers and it's just so cool that I'm actually talking to you. I mean, really, who would ever think that a smalltown girl like me would actually be standing here and meeting the most famous witch in hist-"

Draco cleared his throat to cut her off. Who knew such a willowy girl standing at almost five ten, as thin as a piece of paper, could have the lung capacity to talk for hours non-stop? But then, she was a very willing learner and was more diligent than Marie ever was, albeit a tad absent-minded. "Elanor, what were you going to tell me?"

"Oh right, that," she giggled. "I'm sorry, I get a little distracted sometimes. I mean, it's only like, my third day at work and it's all so new to me-"

"Yes, of course," Granger smiled kindly at her. "I understand completely."

"Really?" squealed Elanor. "You do? Wow, that's just like, so cool-"

"Elanor," said Draco firmly.

"Ah yes," she stopped her babbling abruptly. "The models are waiting outside, Mr. Malfoy. Shall I send them in?"

Draco nodded. "According to the list, if you please."

"Certainly," she beamed. "Miss Granger, do you have your copy?"

Draco extracted an extra copy from his folder and slid it across the desk to Granger. "All done. Send the first one in, Elanor."

"Okay," she turned to go, but before closing the door she gave Granger a big grin, "Really a pleasure speaking to you, Miss Granger!"

"You too," answered Granger politely.

"She likes you," commented Draco lightly as his secretary closed the door behind her.

"She seems like a nice girl. She's very young though," said Granger, smoothing out her list. "Is she American?"

"Yes, I'm giving her a few months on internship," he answered. "Anyway, we're seeing thirty models today. Only fifteen will make the cut, each will wear two outfits at the show and one will be the campaign star. I'll be glad to hear your advice, but of course, the final decision is mine."

Granger rolled her eyes. "As stated in the last clause of the contract. But what about the secrecy clause? The models will know I'm involved when they see me."

"Well, models aren't always the brightest girls, but just in case they're clever enough to put two plus two together I've made them all sign contracts of secrecy," replied Draco. "Happy? Besides, why can't you be involved? You can be doing financial stuff, legal, accounting-"

"Yes, the boring stuff," concluded Granger, with an undertone of resignation. "That's what Hermione's Granger all about, I suppose?"

Draco smirked and said bluntly, "Well, yeah."

Instead of lashing back at him with retorts that usually revolved around ferrets and black hearts, Granger simply shrugged and wordlessly looked down at her list, letting her hair curtain her face. Draco blinked. Did Granger just back down from a fight? Okay, it wasn't a fight, not yet anyway, but Draco could've been sure that it would've turned out to be a full-blown face-off, like all other conversations, since neither wanted to back down first. Ever.

He quickly stared down at his list.

Merlin, why didn't Draco see earlier that they were both acting like bloody six-year-olds?


Because it didn't work. Civilized conversation, he meant. Not between them, anyway.

"I think she's a pleasant girl," he remarked, drawing a star next to the previous model's photo.

Draco glanced at Granger, who was bloody taking notes like it was a DADA class.

"I thought she was rather... flighty," she replied mildly. But he could see her teeth clench.

Draco snorted. "What you meant is she's a bloody giraffe with the brain size of a maggot. Damnit, Granger, what's wrong with you today?"

"I don't think she's a giraffe," sniffed Granger disdainfully. "And there's nothing wrong with me today." He was horrified to see a shadow of a smile when she looked away.

Merlin. He had been with enough women to know what a smile like that meant.

"Bloody hell, Granger. Did you get laid?"

She looked shocked enough to fall off her chair, then gasped very indignantly, "Draco Malfoy!"

Draco smirked at the growing blush on her cheeks. "What? There's nothing wrong with sex."

"I didn't- didn't-"

"You can say it, Granger," said Draco with a deliberate grin. "I know you're a prude and all-"

"Stop calling me a prude! You horrid, ferret-faced-"

"- but really, there's nothing wrong with-"

"-how dare you assume that I'm that kind of-"

"-a contraceptive charm-"

"Draco! Mon dieu! 'Ermione Granger!"

Hermione's eyes snapped to the door, and her jaw promptly hit the desk.

"Salut Fleur. Comment ça va?" asked Draco with an exquisite accent, who had very smoothly turned from Granger to smile at his French friend.

"Ça va bien!" Fleur Delacour laughed and approached them, giving them sound kisses on both cheeks.

"I am thrilled to see you two 'ere," she grinned as she pulled back, flipping her waterfall of golden hair over a bare, slim shoulder. "Eetz been forever! How are you two?"

"Better than ever," answered Malfoy for the both of them. "Thank you so much for your help back in the day. Your intelligence reports were a great help."

Fleur waved that off dismissively. "Draco, that was years ago. I prefer to not to think of the past now, eets all so long ago!" She laughed breezily and turned to Hermione. "'Ermione, are you working for Draco?"

She opened her mouth to answer, but Malfoy beat her to it. "Yes, she is. Actually, she's working on my new fashion line right now."

Without thinking, Hermione's hand connected with the back of his head.

"Ow! What was that for?" growled Malfoy.

"The secrecy clause?" she hissed.

He glared at her. "Two days ago you were screaming like a banshee that you had a designer's block, why not let Fleur help you?"

Was that a kind gesture on Malfoy's part? "Um, thanks, Malfoy, but I'm not stuck anymore."

Malfoy shot her an annoyed frown. "Well, in that case, maybe Fleur can be the one you go crying to when you get hysterical next time?"

Hermione sucked in an angry breath. "I did not cry! And I do not get hysterical!"

"You're getting hysterical right now!"

"You're just mad over the wasabi incident, aren't you?"

"Merlin, Granger, I think I have other more worthy things to be made about!"

Fleur delicately cleared her throat, clearly amused by the war of words just exchanged between them. "'Ermione, did I just hear Draco say that you're designing 'is fashion line?"

"Yes, you did," she answered, forcing down the ridiculous urge to stamp on Malfoy's foot.

"Well, isn't that just lovely!" grinned Fleur, sounding very British all of a sudden.

"Actually, you can come up to my flat to see the collection," she offered with a smile. "I haven't shown it to anyone yet and I want some feedback."

"Mais oui, I'd love to come."

"What about me?" spoke up Malfoy. "I'm your boss, shouldn't I have the exclusive right to see the line of clothes I'm paying for?"

Hermione and Fleur exchanged glances and a secretive smile that sighed, Men.


"What ees that 'eavenly scent?" asked Fleur after a deep breath as she stepped into the airy apartment, with Malfoy trailing behind.

"Flowers," smiled Hermione somewhat vaguely.

She tried to shield the enormous vase of roses that was sitting by the windows, but Fleur caught sight of them and her hands flew to her chest as she gasped, "Mon dieu! Les roses sont tres belles!" Hermione guessed she was pretty overwhelmed by the bouquet, since she reverted to her mother tongue. "'Oo gave them to you, you lucky girl?"

Hermione wasn't even aware of the fact that her eyes glanced at Malfoy's direction till she saw his face, stony and expressionless.

Like she cared.

"Victor. Victor Krum," she answered.

Fleur squealed, her green eyes practically sparkling with excitement. "Victor! I knew it. I told 'im years back at the Triwizard Tournament that you are ze one for 'im! 'E owes me one!"

Hermione blushed. "Fleur, please! We're just friends."

"When," Malfoy broke his silence in a frosty voice, "are we going to see your damned clothes?"

"Draco! There's no need to be rude," chided Fleur, then took Hermione's hand. "Come, 'Ermione, I cannot wait any longer. I need to see ze clothes!"

Sending the Frenchwoman a grateful smile, Hermione brushed past Malfoy and led them to her workspace.

"You two are the only people apart from me who have been inside this room," said Hermione importantly as she rested her hand on the door handle. "The last time Ginny was here, I cast an invisible-cum-repellent charm-"

"What?" spluttered Malfoy. "The She-Weasel's been here?"

Hermione glared at him. "Yes. That's none of your business and her name's Ginny for Merlin's sake and not the degrading names you give her."

"Are you bloody crazy? What about the contract?"

"Who are you to talk about the contract? You told Fleur in the face today that I'm the designer!"

"That's different," protested Malfoy, a nasty frown on his face. "We both agreed to tell her-"

She gaped at him. "What? When exactly did I agree to anything like that-"

"Can we just see ze collection, s'il vous plait?" asked Fleur almost timidly.

Hermione took a deep breath and said, "Of course."

She felt a tingle of nervousness when Fleur and Malfoy entered the room. It was like handing in an assignment back at Central St. Martins. You never knew if people hated it or loved it- and there were always both.

Malfoy looked around at the eight clothed mannequins and sneered, "That's all? My, aren't you productive."

This time it was Fleur who slapped the back of his head. "Draco! 'Ermione, I think you've done a fantastic job so far. But how many days do you 'ave till ze show?"

"Ten."

Fleur's eyes bulged in shock. "Ten? Dix jours? 'Ow in Merlin's name will you finish everything?"

Hermione fiddled with the seams on a half-completed dress. "Well, I've got everything down on paper."

"You really 'ave to hurry if you don't want to finish your clothes backstage," said Fleur seriously. "I can owl you a list of charms you might find 'elpful if you need it. It's from a designer friend who works in Paris. It would save you plenty of time."

Hermione was about to say "yes" when Malfoy cut in, "I'm afraid she won't accept that, Fleur. She was quite determined to stick to needles and thread when I proposed that to her."

She. Wanted. To slap him.

"Actually," said Hermione through gritted teeth. "I think it would be fantastic if you could owl that to me, Fleur. It really is hard working twenty hours a day just to finish one coat." She pointedly glared at Malfoy, who rolled his eyes.

Fleur gasped. "Twenty hours? You must be joking!"

"Yes, I work twenty hours a day. It is rather tiring, but it's the only way, isn't it?"

"Oh no, I will not allow you to work twenty hours a day," said Fleur, sauntering to her side and slung a friendly arm over her shoulder. "C'est incroyable! I'll ask Victor to take you out tomorrow night. You need time to relax!"

"Fleur, I appreciate your concern but-"

Fleur tutted. "No buts, 'Ermione. I am quite determined about this. In fact, I will go with you to make sure you 'ave fun. Draco, you're going with us tomorrow night."

Malfoy looked as if he was strangled by some invisible force. "What?"

"Isn't that what Americans call 'double-dates'? I think eet is a marvellous idea," said Fleur happily. "I shall book two tables for tomorrow night. Where shall we go? Tres Bon? Or Donatella? I really cannot choose between those two, they are both parfait!"

"Fleur, we are not going on a double-date," said Malfoy calmly.

She laughed. "You English are so conservative! You really should learn from us Parisians!" Then she grinned and said, "Alors, it's time for me to go. I will owl you two tomorrow. Don't forget to dress up! À bientôt!"

They listened as the sharp clicks of Fleur's heels petered out, then they glared at each other and said simultaneously,

"Damn you."


Edited 29 May 2012

Some people asked when the romance will be kicking in. Well, all I'll say is very soon :)

In a lot of fics I read Fleur is the villain, but I happen to like her a lot, so she's a good person here. And oh, she has not married Bill Weasley as in the books. I hope I've got the French accent thing right, I'm not that good at imitating accents.

Anyway, thanks for the reviews, everyone! When I feel stuck, I read your reviews and they make me feel so much better about the story. I hope you'll like the following chapters!