Hermione and the E.W.B.P (European Witchcraft Beauty Pageant)

*** This chapter's the one where Hermione arrives and makes acquaintances with the other girls, so sorry because this one might be a little slow. I just have to establish all the other characters and so on- but stick with me, because things will definitely heat up later on. And another thing: I'm really sorry that the last chapter was quite similar to the film; I realise that perhaps I should have made it a little more original, but I promise that from here onwards it will be a bit more independent, though the main plot will stay the same (after all, it is based on Miss Congeniality).

Also, in this chapter you will meet some of the other girls at the pageant, and some of them will be speaking perfect English, whereas others will have a slight accent. On the whole however, the majority can speak English very well and have no trace of any accent at all.

Disclaimer: Most characters copyright of J.K.R, the plot copyright of Warner Bros who made the film Miss Congeniality.

Natyslacks~ Yep, you do seem to be a live wire! School coming to a close is it? Wish mine was. Anyway, thanks for the review and keep posting.

Livvy~ Yeah, lol, Hermione smokes because she's always stressed nowadays! She adores doughnuts, though to be honest I can't stand `em... I don't know why, I've hated them since I was a little kid. Thanks darl and you'll find some people she's met before in this chapter!

Smokeline~ hehe, she's got a temper all right! All that tobacco and sugar addiction... as for the lack of coordination- me too, I'm a clumsy oaf. *Knocks lamp over* Oops! See!

Bride Of Malfoy~ thank you ~_^ I realise I should move away more from the film's plot and I'm definitely following that advice!

SiriuslyMione~ yep, thanks for (both) reviews! Draco's a sexy git and to be honest, my fingers are tingling to write the erm... more interesting... scenes that will arrive in later chapters. The one's that make this fic R rated *wink* As for the club thing- hehe, I have some pretty good ideas about that!

Zip~ lol, you're probably right. I am obvious- oh well.

TrinityMarquise~ first of all thank you very much for the brutally honest review which pointed a few things out to me. Though it's hard not to take offence sometimes, I do realise that your review was tactful and meant with the best of intentions. It's true that Draco is a lot different to the character Eric in the film, because he's a totally different person really and a lot more cruel (though just as sexy!). Hermione is a smoker true, but she is twenty seven in this fic, it's not like she's a naughty teenager, she has an extremely stressful job and just because she's very honest and straight laced doesn't mean she can't smoke. My mother for example, smokes, and she always abides by the book and would never step out of line! I also think it adds to the plot for a scene coming later in the fic. You're absolutely right about the dialogue, I'll definitely try and make it more original. I realise my grammar slips occasionally. And thanks again, please keep reviewing- I'd like to see what you thought of this chappie!

Without further ado, here's a (quite long) Chapter 5.

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Chapter 5

Hermione glanced around nervously, clutching at her bag with fumbling fingers, and wandered around the exquisite room, taking in all the details. The Pageant Hotel's foyer was decorated in pale cream with a deep oak desk, a stressed looking witch perched behind it. Beautiful portraits of former beauty queens lined the walls, their shining eyes winking and their pearly teeth gleaming whenever they smiled; the rugs on the floor were blood-red with swirled patterns and the lamps that festooned the walls shone with a homely glow. Oh, she could get used to living here all right.

"Hands off," Rita Skeeter said rather sharply, as Hermione leant to touch an expensive looking china vase. "That one ornament is worth more than everything you own. Now girls," she said, in a much more chirpy voice; "you might want to follow me into the dining room where we can have something to eat. Don't worry ladies, we have a large low fat section." (Every witch except for Hermione let out a unanimous sigh of relief).

Following the procession, Hermione approached the nearest gaggle of witches who were talking rapidly in different languages and eyeing their surroundings with awe. All of them were extremely beautiful, with silky hair, wide smiles and petite, slim frames that made Hermione's stomach turn. How would she ever fit in here?

"Hermione!" someone screeched, and a witch threw herself onto Hermione, hugging her tightly. "Oh I never knew you'd be here, it's such a surprise," the woman continued, still not letting go.

"But it isn't-?" Hermione said, not daring to believe herself. "Lavender?!"

"Sure is," the woman trilled, eventually letting go and beaming at Hermione. The old school friend had bloomed into a remarkably pretty woman with large pale blue eyes and golden ringlets, not to mention a surprisingly voluptuous body squeezed into a pale pink dress. "You've changed so much Herm`," she continued happily (Hermione winced a the shortening of her name, which she'd always hated). "Ever since Seamus and I got married-"

"You're married to Seamus?" Hermione cried.

"Yes, didn't you know? We got married as soon as we left Hogwarts, remember the good old days, remember them? Ah, people always used to say Seamus and I were the perfect couple, and they were right! If it wasn't for him I probably wouldn't be in this competition you know, it's really surprising that they let me. I mean, I was born in Ireland but I don't think they let that count do they? But now I LIVE in Ireland and everything, and I'm married to an Irishman, they just HAD to let me enter, and it helps I lived there until I was three. Is that how you became Miss Finland, Hermione?"

"Erm- yeah," Hermione said, a little surprised that Lavender had actually managed to talk for so long without pausing to breathe. "I was born in Finland."

"Isn't it surprising that three students from Hogwarts got in here?" Lavender said confidentially. "It's not a surprise with you though Herm`. At school you didn't really make the best of yourself did you? Now you look really pretty, absolutely amazing, but back then, I'm sure you don't mind me saying but you were a trifle- ugly, dearest. Then there's me, Miss Ireland." She giggled, her behaviour just as bubbly as always.

"You said there's three Hogwarts students here," Hermione said, frowning. "But who's the third?"

"Oh don't you know?" Lavender said, looking shocked. "It's Miss England. Hasn't she changed, Hermione? I'm still in shock to be honest, of all the people they could choose! She was awful looking at the school and so STRANGE, but now she's so different, a bit like you honey. Oh I still can't believe the transformation, but she's as odd as ever. Just won't mingle, Herm!"

"But who is it?" Hermione asked impatiently. Lavender pointed a manicured finger behind them, to where a lone figure was making her way across into the dining room, and Hermione let out a gasp of recognition.

The pale blonde locks that used to be so straggly, were now so thick and full of vitality that her hair bounced when she walked, and since it was still waist length she looked like she had a stream spouting down her back. The blue eyes, usually so protuberant and frog-like, were now like glittering diamonds, still large, but more almond shaped. She wore a long pale pink robe, opting for a more covered up look to the other girls, who were wearing dresses and skirts, but she stood out just as much as ever for her strange quality and dream-like state. It was Luna Lovegood, but boy had she changed.

"Luna," Lavender said cheerily, pulling the girl over and kissing her on the cheek graciously. "How've you been? You're looking very well."

The witch stopped staring into space and glanced at Hermione and Lavender, the confusion eventually leaving her face and placed with a dawning acknowledgement. "Lavender, Hermione," she said slowly, interrogating them with her weird glare. "Gryffindors, I remember. The Quibbler has been doing rather well recently," she said, as though they had just been discussing the magazine. "We just did an article on lap dancing pixies. I think it went down rather well."

Lavender furiously suppressed a giggle and ushered a bemused Hermione and a smiling Luna to a table where a few other girls were sitting. Evidently Lavender had already been acquainted with everyone, because she began chatting immediately. Hermione just glanced around at the table, noticing things that most others didn't; because of her job she was observant with the tiniest details. The tables were long and laden with scones and other pastries, the tablecloths of pure white linen. Hermione grabbed a pastry and tucked in, then realised that all of the other Aurors (the thought of Malfoy in particular made her grimace) would be watching the scene from the pinhole camera attached to her chest, and listening from the magical earplug in her earring.

"So girls," Lavender continued in her high voice. "This is Hermione, she's Miss Finland, and you already know Luna, Miss England." The other girls smiled welcomingly at Hermione, but seemed to ignore Luna, as though she wasn't there. Luna didn't even seem to have noticed; she'd taken the latest edition of The Quibbler out of her bag and was reading it thoroughly. "Girls, this is Paola from Italy," a small, dark haired girl with beautiful dark eyes winked at Hermione; "Esperenza from Spain" a tanned curvaceous woman in a tiny red dress wiggled her talons at her; "Lotte from Germany" a red-haired witch with a spattering of freckles across her cute button nose grinned, "and Fleur from France." The last witch was one Hermione had met before, and she took no pleasure in seeing her again.

Fleur Delacour without doubt had always been an extremely attractive witch but just now Hermione had never seen anyone look so exquisite. Her silvery hair had been twisted into an elegant knot at the top of her head; her large long lashed pale eyes batting lazily at the other pageant contestants. Ruby red lips pursed into a half smile, though it didn't stretch to her high cheekbones and didn't alter her expression. Around her pale neck was a sparkling diamond necklace that enhanced her flawless features and gave her the aura of something holy, like an angel. The man that was serving them food couldn't take his eyes off her; indeed, every male inhabitant of the room seemed to have their gaze trained onto Miss Delacour and didn't seem in any hurry to take it off her.

"`Ermione Granger, I zink," Fleur said, her French accent particularly strong. "Why ees it everyone except moi, can speak Eenglish so perfectly?"

"I was only born in Finland, Fleur," Hermione answered smoothly, taking a big bite out of her sausage roll. "I'm sure everyone here has about the same knowledge of English as you."

"Well I've lived in Spain all my life and people are always telling me my English is beautiful," Esperenza said, shrugging.

"It is," Lavender said gushingly, and Esperenza beamed, a little pink blush appearing on her cheeks. "It's like, as Seamus was saying the other day..."

The conversation descended into girlie nothings and Hermione began to drift off, taking more notice of the food in front of her. She devoured as much as possible, knowing later that Lupin would make sure she ate nothing but "rabbit food" as she called it. What's more, to her the conversation was so mind-numbingly dull that she needed something to do. Girlie topics had never fascinated her, and that was one of the reasons she'd always had male friends; the chitchat, gossip and lipstick banter not only confused her but also bored her. What was the point in spending time with superficial airheads when you could talk with a man and get straight to the point, safe in the knowledge they won't bitch behind your back and split hairs? Men, usually, were straight to the point and their rude toilet humour had always amused Hermione- much more than the finer points of mascara did, anyway.

The Italian girl, Paola, was speaking now, and Hermione noticed that she was much softer spoken and her English, though without any accent, was lilting and almost soothing. "I think this pageant is good opportunity," she murmured. "It doesn't matter who wins, really. We will all be good friends, it is the- what do you say? - taking part that matters."

"I agree," Lavender said, and Esperenza and Lotte nodded enthusiastically, "It would be good to win but at the end of the day I am sure this will be an amazing experience. It will be great to make so much European friendships- it's good for alliances and our understanding of each other."

Hermione noted that, while everyone else was voicing their agreement, Fleur kept silent. In fact, she wrinkled up her nose scornfully and continued to idly spoon some yoghurt into her mouth. Almost enviously, Hermione watched as she swallowed the yoghurt without getting a trace and around her mouth, and placed the spoon back down. She ate so gracefully and well mannered- like a refined gentlelady, or someone from an uppercrust family.

"The Quibbler might do an article on this pageant," Luna said, speaking for the first time. "What do you think?" Everyone gazed at her with astonishment, as though finally noticing her for the first time; Hermione felt some pity when she saw Luna had chocolate around her mouth. Fleur seemed to notice too, but she was smiling, rather sinisterly.

"Ze Quibbler," she said delicately, a sly look in her bluer-than-blue eyes. "Isn't zat ze magazine- ze one wif ze strange articles? It caused quite a stir a few months ago, deed eet not?"

"If you're referring to the inquiry on the lap dancing pixies," Hermione said sharply, "then I know for a fact that was fully investigated by the Ministry and found to be harmless."

"Really?" There was a curious expression on Fleur's face and Hermione bit her lip, realising perhaps she'd said a little too much. "And `ow would you know dat, Mees `Ermione? And `ow is eet you are Mees Finland anyway?"

"I know that because I read it in the Daily Prophet," Hermione lied, praying she looked matter-of-fact. "And I was born in Finland, but my family moved to England when I was a baby."

Fleur looked as if she was about to investigate some more, but Lavender cut her off. "So girls," she interrupted pleasantly, as though there had been no friction at all. "What are your favourite lipsticks at the minute?"

Immediately all the girls began talking at once, and Hermione gave a sigh of relief as she realised the secret was still safe, for the minute anyway. But she had her suspicions of Fleur- there WAS something strange about that witch. Perhaps... but no, it couldn't be her. Well, she'd bear her in mind anyway.

Time passed and soon a bumbling, large man Hermione recognised from Hogwarts was clearing the plates away. It was Vincent Crabbe, a rather unintelligent fellow Hermione had never really spoken too much, but despised all the same. He ogled them all, Fleur in particular, rather indecently.

"What are you looking at?" Lotte, the redhead from Germany, demanded. Hermione grinned at this girl, noting another feisty witch when she saw one. Perhaps she would be a friend to Hermione- something she would like to have in this pageant, a world full of strange cosmetic objects she didn't understand. Crabbe lumbered off carrying the plates at Lotte's words, though he did keep shooting leering glances at Fleur, who was ignoring him.

"Ladies," came a familiar voice, and looking up to the stage Hermione saw Rita Skeeter stood holding her wand, a wide smile plastered across her powdered face. "Thank you, thank you," she giggled, as everyone clapped her appearance. "First of all I'd just like to welcome you to the pageant; I'm sure this year will be one of the best so far, and you will do your countries proud. I will be co-hosting the event in three days, though beforehand you'll have to do the preliminaries, such as the swimsuit competition. The schedule for today is quite simple: first of all we finish breakfast, then we change into our tracksuits and aerobic clothing and head for the gym where we practice the dance routines for the performances. By the time that's all sorted it's back here for a good beauty sleep, and a chance to settle into your rooms and get to know your roommates. There will be four to a room, chosen by us, and I'm sure you'll make some good friends."

"Well said, well said," said a blonde handsome man standing nearby, chuckling into his own wand. It was Gilderoy Lockhart, another worker on the pageant and popular around the world for his television appearances. "That's what this event is all about anyway: establishing bonds between our countries. That's why I'll be very saddened to leave- after all, this is my last year spent co presenting this pageant."

A gasp of shock and polite disappointment echoed around the room from most of the girls, though Hermione's analytical mind was already working in overdrive, and the skills that made her so good at her job had started into gear. WHY was he leaving? Was it his choice, or was he forced- and if so, was he bitter about it?

"Why's he leaving?" Luna asked, still in her dream world.

"Probably retiring," Esperenza said dismissively, though she too looked sad.

"He's not retiring," Lavender muttered into Hermione's ear. "I know the full story... they're firing him, they think he's getting too old and he's not handsome enough to do it."

"Not `andsome enough?" Fleur repeated, outraged, from nearby. "Ze man is a god!"

"I know, but the rumours have been flying thick- and fast. And it's true old Lockhart's getting on now, so it doesn't surprise me at all." Lavender shot a confidential look at Hermione. "You wouldn't happen to know anything about it would you? I wouldn't tell anyone."

"No," Hermione said truthfully, though if she had she wouldn't have told Lavender anyway, who was a bit of a motormouth. Her heart was in the right place, but she was all too often driven to distraction by idle gossip and such a secret would have been a burden on her heart- one that she'd be eager to be rid of to the next ten people.

No, Hermione was still concerned about what she had been told, and trusting Lavender's excellent inquisitive skills, it was probably right. So they were firing him, were they? So Lockhart was another suspect to add to his list... after all, he had a good motive. If he was being sacked, surely he'd be angry and want revenge? And what better revenge than murdering the winner of the beauty pageant? Well, it would certainly get him recognition...

While Hermione brewed over her thoughts, she didn't realise that she had put her elbow in the soup in front of her, and as the liquid began to scald, she let out a scream of pain. Immediately everyone's eyes trained onto her with disapproval in each accusatory glance, and Hermione looked up to see Rita glaring at her with suppressed fury. "Sorry," she muttered, and Lockhart continued explaining the procedures.

***

"She's made a fool of herself," Smith laughed, watching the screen in front of him. "Look, she put her elbow in the soup! What a klutz." All of the Aurors working on the case were crowded around the Muggle television that had been fixed up in their headquarters not a quarter of a mile from the Pageant Hotel. The camera that was attached to Hermione's dress revealed a good view of everything happening in the pageant, and the earpiece in her ear meant that the Aurors could hear everything going on.

"Cor, she's a babe," Hynes chuckled, ogling Miss Italy. "And that Miss France- now she's got a great pair."

"I've met her before," Malfoy said, who was sitting next to Smith. Though he liked to appear too cool to be glued to the screen like the other men, he was in fact just as interested as them in the pageant beauties. All of them were so flawless, so extremely attractive and stunning that he felt a warm heat just looking at them... but that was nothing to how he had felt seeing Hermione walk up in that dress of hers, just an hour before. That sensation had been like nothing on Earth, and even faced with the beauty of the other contestants, he knew that Hermione was one of the best. The way her hair had flowed, and the way her eyes like glistening warm pools had shone with such warmth had urged him to... to what? He was feeling the same animal urges as any other man did when faced with a pretty woman, but Granger had always been different; it had been good to wind her up and see her react, and enjoy the heated reaction that stirred something deep inside him.

"You've met Miss France?" Smith said, impressed. "Where?"

"She came to Hogwarts once," he said vaguely. "Fleur or something, I think her name was.And- shit! Woah!" His attention was suddenly on the screen once more, his fingers pressing hard against the television. "That- that wasn't him?" Malfoy had spotted a familiar looking waiter, with a round waist and protruding ears.

"Who?"

"That was Crabbe, a boy who used to go to Hogwarts. We were pals in the times when... when You Know Who was around." Everyone shuffled uncomfortably; though Voldemort had been dead for ten years now, a lot of people still struggled to say his name or speak about him without fear.

"Was- was he a supporter of You Know Who?" Hynes asked in a hushed voice.

"Hell no, Crabbe was as thick as two planks- no, it was his father who was the supporter. But he would have liked to be one, if he had the brains." Malfoy gulped, being careful to omit several details- like the fact his own father had been one, and that he himself had been lined up to become a Death Eater. Of course, since Voldemort was vanquished Draco had become a respectable member of the community. He could never let anyone know that he had once been part of such a Dark Art matter- he would be sacked on the spot.

"So you think he's a potential danger?" Smith said nervously, scribbling away on some notes about suspects.

"Well- I'd keep him on the list to be sure," Malfoy said firmly. "We can show her what we've got tonight when we meet up with her ...Granger." Just saying her name made a constriction in his throat, and he became tense. How he hated her: from her know-all ability which had consumed jealousy in him from his school days, to the professionalism and blatant misconduct when talking about something she felt passionately about. Shouldn't they stick by the rule book? After all, ever since Draco had been part of the job, he knew that he'd made the right decision. Being a respectable person came surprisingly easily to him, and the way Hermione shoved her opinions in people's faces wasn't part of that. That's how he knew she disliked him- she was always upfront, and whenever they argued in the past she had always expressed how much she despised him. In fact, Malfoy was sure Hermione hated him from the bottom of her heart.

Of course, not like it actually bothered him, or anything.

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Was it okay? I realise it might have dragged on a little and that it was extremely long (approximately double the length of the usual) but I wanted the first impressions to be squeezed into one chapter. The next one will continue on that- Hermione's first dance lesson and getting to know who her roommates are. I tried to take into account everything people have reviewed about, and please keep me informed of your thoughts!

Saying that, I'd rather not receive flames because it's really hard not to take criticiscm to heart, though as long as it's constructive, I don't mind it. So far I haven't received any truly venomous reviews, with the majority being extremely pleasant and kind with honest but constructive comments, and I'd like it to continue that way. I'd never dream of flaming everyone and I'd like to get the courtesy people would want for themselves!

That's all, next chapter soon! Emma xxx