Author's Notes: Sooooo sorry. Life is so crazy. Anyway-Marching Band will officially be over tomorrow, so I should have more time. Thank you for being so patient. (In my defense I have two papers due on Monday which I'm not doing right now). Really short chapter...but I felt I had to at least put something out here. Enjoy and review-it'll make me update faster.
After Hermione's breakdown at Anger Management Class, the counselor suggested a nice, relaxing evening so Hermione could enjoy herself without putting anyone in danger. Erin Chesna knew just the thing—the Swish & Swash modeling agency was introducing a new line of tuxedoes.
"No."
"If you want to get control of your life again, there are certain steps you must take."
"Swish & Swash is not going to cure me! Give me a potion, shots, a stress ball—not a modeling agency, you git!"
A few hours later, Hermione found herself at the runway, ducking behind a potted plant. Alas, Erin found her and dragged her into their front row, dead center V.I.P. seats. Leaning over, Erin informed her, "I got you a V.I.P Backstage Pass!" Hermione stared blankly. "No need to thank me, Hermione. I have certain connections with Swish & Swash." Before she had to give a crude response, the lights dimmed dramatically as techno music drifted around the room.
"Witches and wizards!" The overenthusiastic announcer gesticulated wildly. "Please put your hands together for our top model, Draco Malfoy! This evening he will be modeling a white dragon hide tuxedo complete with golden accents and a dragon scale tail!"
"I'm so excited!" Erin Chesna grinned.
"Kill me."
Draco Malfoy sashayed down the runway with a golden cape slung over his left shoulder and dragon hide shoes clicking obnoxiously. Hermione thought he had a splinter of some sort in his eye because of the way he kept twitching. When she informed Erin, she got a dreamy sigh, "Winking, Hermione." Three hours crawled by like a crippled drunk baby. She bounded out of her seat and attempted to sprint to the door, but Erin had already slung the V.I.P. pass around her neck and shoved her in the direction a very intimidating bouncer, who happened to be her escort.
She followed behind him, pouting. They reached a door with a humble-looking plaque on the door. And by humble I mean spelling out Draco in an array of colors, which flashed every time you blinked. Hermione blinked. And blinked. And blinked some more, unnaturally amused by the color changing letters. "Mr. Malfoy, sir? Your special guest for the evening has arrived." Hermione stopped blinking.
"Miss Chesna," he whispered seductively as he opened the door. His partially unbuttoned shirt exposed his toned chest. Reaching for the feminine hand, he kissed it. Draco Malfoy was taken by surprise, however, when that delicate hand slapped him across the face, and an unmistakable voice echoed around his tender head.