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

*** I managed to get my working mode in gear and write Chapter 6, so here's the result. Quite short compared to some of the other chapters and some others coming up in the future, but this one's another "getting to know the characters" type thing.

Disclaimer: The majority of the plot is borrowed from the film "Miss Congeniality" and the characters are Rowling's. Of course, I've already written a disclaimer for every chapter before this, but what can I say? A chapter doesn't feel like a chapter without a hearty disclaimer before each one.

Livvy~ hey thanks, yep the lap dancing pixies are one of my own more original ideas! Lol not really, but it was just something spontaneous that came into my head at the time of writing, a bit like some of the characters really. I know Luna was a bit of a shock, wasn't she? I just thought it would be great for her character to get the chance to do something like this.

SiriuslyMione~ lol! The icy blue eyes, the white blond hair... those cute dimples and the sexy body... woah, I'm getting hot under the collar just thinking about it! ;) lol here's the update, was it soon enough? Thanks for reviewing.

Dark_star~ I did update rather quickly, didn't I? Thanks, I'm pleased you're enjoying the chapters, and who knows? Your suspicions of Fleur could probe to be correct... my lips are sealed... As you can probably predict, Hermione's dance lesson wasn't exactly coordinated either!

That's pretty much all of personal replies for this chapter, but thanks to everyone that reviewed and please keep it up. I hope to eventually pass the 100 mark! Wahoo!

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Chapter 6

It had been a bad day- a very bad day. Hermione flopped onto the soft bed, battling the temptation to close her eyes and not open them till morning, for there was so much left to do, what with unpacking and meeting the Aurors secretly. And not only that, but her dancing lesson had been a total disaster from start to finish.

A Portkey had sent them all to a large clear hall, where a brisk dancing teacher had put them through their steps. Hermione had been rather cocky about this, especially as she usually went to the gym three times a week and was incredibly fit, but her lack of coordination and tendency to fumble meant that she'd made a total fool of herself. Indeed, she couldn't decide which part was worse: the part where she'd trod on Fleur's foot, fell over and got stood on by Miss Cyprus, or the part where her attempt to do splits had failed dramatically, and had resulted in the revealing of several inches of bare bottom when her tracksuit had ripped.

"We `aven't got all day," came the sharp French accent, and Hermione, groaning, got to her feet and began pulling her clothes out of her suitcases. WHY was life so unfair? Rita Skeeter had assigned them to share rooms of four, and there had been a particularly wide smile on the woman's face when she'd announced whom Hermione was sharing with.

"Room eight," she had called, smirking. "Miss Germany, Miss England, Miss France... and Miss Finland." Hermione rolled her eyes at the thought, stuffing clothes into drawers and slamming them forcefully. The room was pleasantly decorated in the palest pink with four wooden bunk beds and two large wardrobes and chests of drawers. However, as soon as their room had been allocated, Fleur had snatched the wardrobes and filled them both with her sensational silky clothes from Paris, leaving the other three to share the chests of drawers.

"All off your clothes are ugly," Fleur said, wrinkling her nose. "Mine, mine ees the most expenseeve fabrics, not available `ere. Ze weaving in them- eet's like no other." It was true that her clothes were absolutely astounding; rows upon rows of luxurious fabrics in all colours of the rainbow lined the vast wardrobes, with silk, muslin and satin taking particular centre stage. There were deep swirls and pastel pinks, creams, warm browns, vibrant purples and reds, all you could ever think of. From the ladylike white to the ebony black, each garment had a matching bag and pair of shoes. It was like some giant sweet shop to a tiny child, and Hermione knew Fleur would have to guard the wardrobes with her life if she didn't want the other women stealing them. But there were so many to steal! Even now, half an hour later, Fleur continued to take clothes out of her suitcases.

Having just finished packing, Hermione flopped onto her bed morosely, still deep in thought of her humiliating day. Why did she care what they thought? Hermione had always strongly disapproved and protested about the type of women who entered these pageants; superficial, looks-obsessed, vanity junkies with a serious lack of personality and humour. So why did it matter if she'd revealed her bum to them, and fell flat on her face? As soon as this mission was over she could revel in the glory of completing her first undercover assignment, and put it all behind her.

She could forget the bitchy comments and backbiting gossip, she could forget the vacuous topics of discussion and the miniscule, revealing dresses, and she could especially forget the inner anger and torment she felt whenever she was faced with Draco Malfoy. As soon as this mission she was over, she was NEVER going to work with him again, even if it meant losing her job.

"Are you okay? You look very depressed," Lotte said, patting down her clothes into a pile. Lotte was the German contestant, who spoke excellent English ("My mother was from the UK and she taught me the language from a little child,") and seemed a very likeable person to Hermione, who was having difficulty settling in. Unlike the other witches who portrayed striking beauty or poise, Lotte's looks were more "pretty" than anything. She had long red hair she kept plaited, large brown eyes and lots of freckles that covered her cute button nose and high forehead. Far from being plain however, Lotte seemed to stand out from the clone-like other contestants, for her charm if anything was far more attractive.

"I'm fine," Hermione sighed, pulling off her tee shirt and grabbing her nightie. It was from the new set of clothes Lupin had given her, and was one of the only garments Hermione had that could possibly rival Fleur's wardrobe. The night dress was mid thigh and pale cream with white stitching ending in a bow around the plunging neckline- more of a slip than a nightie. Hermione felt positively naked, especially in front of her three roommates. Fleur was also wearing a silk slip in a dark red colour trimmed with black lace, whereas a more conventional Lotte had gone for an emerald fuller looking nightgown. Only Luna looked faintly ridiculous in oversized spaceship pyjamas and an orange bandana (everybody was getting used to her strangeness by now, and didn't even bother questioning her reason for wearing a bandana to bed).

"Lights out girls," came the trilling voice of Rita from in the corridor, and with a groan Lotte slammed the door shut.

"That woman is enough to drive me crazy," Lotte complained. "Honestly, that voice of hers just goes through me."

"You're not the only one," Hermione agreed. "God, I'm starving. I could really do with a cup of tea right now."

"A cup of tea?" Fleur said disdainfully, picking up a hairbrush and pulling it through her silvery mane. "In France, we would never drink such a `orrible drink. It is common. We would drink wine and champagne, not zis muck zat we are getting `ere."

"My father always says," Luna said suddenly, breaking from her reverie; "that a cup of tea or coffee is the best way to wake up in the morning."

"Hmm," Lotte said, her mouth twitching. She rummaged in her bag and produced a small brown slab of something that looked temptingly familiar.

"Chocolat?" Fleur cried, putting a manicured hand over her mouth. "Zat cannot be consumed `ere! Ze fatty content! Are you mad?"

"It's non fat," Lotte said calmly, breaking off a chunk and putting it in her mouth. Hermione rushed over, the aroma wafting up her nostrils and the slab mere inches away from Hermione's own hands. "Would you like some, Hermione?"

"Yes please," Hermione said eagerly, taking the chunk that was passed to her and placing it in her mouth. Sadly, the taste wasn't as good as it looked; Hermione spat the chocolate into the waste paper bin in the corner as a cheap, tacky taste overcame her mouth.

"Non fat never tastes like the real thing," Lotte said sadly, putting the slab away.

Hermione climbed into her bed with relief, warmth enveloping her limbs and lulling her already closing eyes. "Don't fall asleep yet Hermione," Luna's dreamy voice said, invading her thoughts. "We should talk and get to know each other."

Rolling her eyes, she pulled herself out of bed. Though she was tired, she knew that she should be continuing with her inquiries as much as possible and finding out about these girls. As much as she wanted to forget it, she was here for a reason, and it certainly wasn't about winning.

"So what's it like in Germany?" Hermione asked Lotte.

"It's beautiful where I come from," the redhead sighed. "There's trees and nature and wild, untamed, grassy forests that you can run in. And there's no Skeeter woman," she laughed, though with a bittersweet note to it. "I never really entered this through my own will, you know. My mother always said I should make something of myself, but I was never good enough if you know what I mean. This pageant is my one chance. My chance to do something, to be me."

"How about you Luna?" Hermione asked, smiling at Lotte sympathetically. She could feel for this girl, who was in actual fact more like her than any of the others.

"I thought it would be good to have an inside opinion for The Quibbler," Luna said, pointing at the magazine on her bedside table. "And the authorities picked me. They said I was perfect for it."

"You do look really good now though," Hermione said truthfully, and Luna smiled, which was a rare thing because all the dreamy quality left her and a set of neat white teeth was revealed.

"Thanks," came Luna's warm reply, and suddenly Hermione felt a happy sensation in her stomach, as she realised she'd made someone feel happy with just a little compliment. That would never happen with her male co- workers- they'd just crack a joke or take it lightly, not actually accept the compliment and feel pleased about it.

Maybe there was something to this whole girlie thing, after all.

Hermione snuggled further up under the covers. "How about you, Fleur? Why did you enter this pageant?"

"None of your business," was the curt reply. "Now if you will all agree to sleep now, I will turn ze light off. We need to be awake early tomorrow, we need sleep now."

"Why are you so rude Fleur?" Lotte said, frowning at the French witch. "You may be beautiful but I don't think much to your manners, or to your accent to that matter."

"What is zat meaning?" Fleur demanded angrily, dots of pink appearing in her cheeks.

"That considering your high and mighty opinion of yourself, your English isn't all that good," Lotte said calmly. Fleur cursed in French at this and turned over in her bed, flicking the lamp off with her right hand.

"Good night," she said stiffly.

"Good night," chorused in all directions, and Hermione finally closed her eyes, all thoughts of meeting up with the other Aurors abandoning her. She hadn't slept for two days; surely they could wait until tomorrow? So instead she waited for sleep to come with its blissful blanket.

But it never came.

For some INEXCPLICABLE reason, she couldn't get Malfoy out of her head. The way he had treated her this morning came back to her and so did her frustration; her anger at being talked to like an inferior and made to do this mission without even being consulted properly. And then the cheek of giving her such a stupid name! Hermie-Lou Freebush... well, at least that had gone wrong. Ever since Lavender had let rip Hermione's real name to the girls at the table in breakfast, she had thought it stupid to even pretend to be called "Hermie".

She pictured the look on Malfoy's face when he realised his attempt to humiliate her had gone wrong... oh, it would feel good to finally get one over on him! Then with a crash she came back to earth- Malfoy would have seen her embarrassing herself at the dance class! After all, she did wear a magical earplug in her ear and a tiny camera pinned to her chest... he would know everything. And boy would he rub it in her face!

"You're graceful aren't you, Granger," she could almost hear him saying, in that deep, sneering voice of his. She could picture the cool delight in his icy eyes, the smirk tattooed across his face... with a deep sense of pleasure she imagined punching him squarely on the nose, and watching him writhe in pain and shock...

Tap tap tap.

Hermione moaned slightly, and opened one reluctant eye.

Tap tap tap.

What the hell was it? Whatever it was, it had better shut up, or it'd wake the other witches.

Tap tap tap.

With a deep groan, Hermione pulled back her warm covers and dragged herself out of bed, tiptoeing over to the window, where all the noise was coming from. Pulling back the curtains, she almost let out a gasp of horror.

There, outside her ground floor patio window, stood the tall lean form of Draco Malfoy.

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The sixth chapter, and not really very long at all. Basically this was just establishing a few facts about the witches and getting to know her roommates (hint: there's more to all three of them than Hermione thinks!). The next chapter is going to be a lot of Hermione/Draco... so watch out for it coming soon! It'll also be a lot longer too, and hopefully with a lot more action and plot. In the meantime, please please please pretty please review and tell me what you think. Emma xxx