To my amazing, dedicated readers: Believe me when I say I hate myself for this incredibly long hiatus in my updates. It was entirely unplanned, and I am furious with myself for not behaving more responsibly. I hope you all don't think I'm giving up on the story...I'm just having a difficult time juggling high school with various extracurriculars. Can anyone empathize?
Extra Note: If you find this chapter to be excessively lame, please let me know in a kind manner so that I can go bang my head against the wall. I know this isn't exactly a Pulitzer-deserving chapter. Oh, and if you can find it in your hearts to do it, please review! I'd like at least 115 total in order to update the next chapter.
OFFICIAL CHAPTER DEDICATION: Azriel - Auras for his wonderful feedback and editing skills. God knows how he can find time to read my junk and manage his own hectic life as well.
CHAPTER 5 – You've Got a Friend in Me
...
Dear Miss Granger,
It is our pleasure to inform you that you have been employed at "Sinful", Britain's fastest growing enterprise, headed by Mr. Draco Malfoy and Mr. Blaise Zabini. Due to your impressive exhibition of poise, elegance, and finesse, we (the undersigned members of Magical Modeling Agency) believe you will prove to be an invaluable asset for the aforementioned company's ad campaigns. Your photos have been duly scrutinized and approved of by Mr. Blaise Zabini himself, and he has stated that he will be more than happy to have you begin work as soon as possible. He has asked us to inform you that you have a brief interview with him and possibly a few other people today, July 2nd, at 2:30. We hope you are pleased by this incredible opportunity to commence a most suitable career.
Signed,
Henry Futterson, Manager
Gloria Norbury, Assistant Manager
Zachary Primbottom, Assistant Manager
*The other page holds all of our contact information in case your employer has any concerns or questions.
"An unfortunate surname for a man," Andrea muttered, her eyes fixated on the word "Primbottom."
"Never mind that last name," Hermione rasped in a suddenly feeble voice. "Look at the name of my new employer!" She snatched the letter out of Andi's hand and read in an almost manic tone, "It is our pleasure to inform you that you have been employed at 'Sinful', Britain's fastest growing enterprise, headed by Mr. Draco Malfoy and Mr. Blaise Zabini!" She covered her face with the papers and groaned, "God, is this someone's idea of a joke?"
Andi delicately retrieved the papers before saying soothingly, "Come on, Hermione, it can't and won't be all that bad."
"You're right – it'll be much, much worse."
"Don't be absurd!" Andi exclaimed, unused to seeing such despondency in her friend. "We're all adults, not mindless children who have to tease and taunt each other about the most pathetic things. I'm sure that you and Malfoy have just gotten off on the wrong foot because you came across each other so suddenly the other night. If what you've told me about you two's history is true, then you could hardly expect him to immediately warm up to you after four years of hated remembrance."
"Exactly!" Hermione cried. "We hate each other, Andi! We absolutely loathe one another. I can't stand him, and he bloody well can't stand me. Talking to him is like walking on burning coals, being around him is like lying on a bed of rusty nails, and simply thinking about him makes me feel like someone is shoving bamboo splinters into my eyes!"
Andi made a whooshing sound as she exhaled, her face twisted into an expression of disbelief. "Cor, you're bloody passionate about this, aren't you? I swear, if I didn't know you any better, I'd think you had some sort of deep attraction to the man!"
Deep attraction to MALFOY? I've had deeper attractions to my sweat socks!
Hermione indignantly sputtered, "Well, thank the lord that you do know me better than that! Let me make something clear to you: even if he were the last man left in the world, I still wouldn't want to have anything to do with him!"
"I'm not asking you to marry him, Hermy. All I'm advising you to do is to let the past stay in the past. You've finally gotten work that's going to pan out excellently for you, at least in financial and job security terms. Don't you think it's worth it to let bygones be bygones and just focus on your blessings?"
"I don't consider it a blessing to be stuck with someone who mixes poison with his coffee every morning and has a fetish for the color green."
Andi's mouth fell into an oval shape and her eyes glazed over slightly. "He really has a fetish for the color green?"
Hermione sighed and rolled her eyes. "No. I was just making it up. Wait, why the hell are we even discussing Malfoy's fetishes? Weren't we supposed to be talking about my new career prospect?"
Andi shrugged, her brief moment of sexual fantasizing over. "You were the one who brought it up. And here's what I think you ought to be reminded of: one, you're going to have Blaise Zabini on your side, all right? That right there is a big, big plus. Think about it, Hermione! You're going to have Draco Malfoy's best friend on your side! Doesn't that mean anything to you?"
"It just means that Malfoy's going to end up inhabiting an Azkaban cell for committing two murders instead of one," Hermione muttered darkly. Not necessarily… you could always just get to him first, Hermione. Ooooh, the possibilities.
"It's amazing how a couple of encounters with Malfoy have caused you to once again acquire the emotional maturity of a five-year old," Andi stated sarcastically. "I am seriously wondering if I should test you for substance abuse right now or not, because I have never seen you act this wimpy over such a trivial matter."
There was silence for a few moments until Hermione wearily slouched over and said softly, "You don't understand. Even if I try to make amends, there's no way he's going to cooperate."
"So you'll have to make him cooperate, won't you?"
"Listen to yourself, Andi. Make him cooperate? And what, get my head chopped off in the process? I can assure you that I won't be much of a hit in the modeling world after I'm decapitated, in case you're wondering."
"Hermione, you're a woman. Use those charms, those feminine wiles. Don't make me have to lecture you on the significance of a single hip swing in the male world."
Hermione scoffed at the thought of trying to act coquettish around Malfoy. She'd just as easily flirt with a doorknob. "Whatever. I mean, even if I do put on a charade like that, there's still not going to be a chance of him showing me any mercy. I know Blaise will give me a bit of support, but you and I both know that in the end, he's going to take Malfoy's side."
"Honey, you are going to become a star – a luscious, gorgeous, renowned star. Forget Malfoy - think of all the money and fame you're going to reap in! Because this, Herms, I can guarantee: you definitely have the right stuff to make a huge splash in the company's ads."
Hermione bit her lip in contemplation. "It's all about the money, isn't it? The only reason I'm doing this is for the money." She put her head in her hands as a mild headache began. "I need to get my priorities straight."
Andi slowly rubbed Hermione's shoulders and said comfortingly, "Yeah, that's it. Just keep your priorities in line, and everything will work out fine on its own."
Brown eyes began drowning in instantaneous tears of guilt. "I can't believe I've been so bloody selfish! I should've jumped for joy at the chance to have such a well-paying, secure job! Even if I miraculously manage to scrounge up the money for my exams, I'll still have my mother to take care of!" She leaned into Andi and buried her face in the girl's shoulder as she wept. "I am such a bitch, Andi! All this time, I didn't ever stop to think of my mother and what this means for her medication. I'm finally going to get real money that I can use to look after her properly, and all I can wail about is being forced to work with some stupid pretty boy. What the hell is wrong with me? When did I morph into such an egocentric monster?"
This isn't a soap opera, Hermione. Stop being so melodramatic and get yourself into gear.
"Hermione, hush," Andrea sternly ordered. "You know damn well that you have done more than was asked of you for your mother, and you have absolutely no earthly reason to rag on yourself like this! I suggest that instead of moping around like a worthless bum, you go clean yourself up while I find you an outfit. Then, we'll both head for that interview of yours."
"No lunch?" Hermione mumbled as she slowly walked over to her bathroom.
"Here, I'll throw together a salad really quickly," Andi called while rummaging around the fridge.
What you need is a hot and refreshing shower. Let Andi fix up lunch along with your outfit, and just sit back and relax. God knows you'll need to be as de-stressed as possible if you really do intend to go through with the interview.
She poured her favorite vanilla body wash onto a sponge-brush and watched as most of her anxiety went down the drain. Outside, she could hear Andi talking to herself: "Why the hell does this girl never wear any of this? She could dress like a bombshell every day, and she chooses to dress like a freaking nun!" Hermione sighed and dropped her head backwards, exposing the skin of her neck to the pelting water. Stop worrying so much. It's just Malfoy – are you really this afraid of him? She jerked her head back up and glared at the soap rack in front of her. No, I'm not afraid. I'll never be afraid of him. Hate does not equal fear in my world.
Andi started pounding on the bathroom door. "Hurry up!" she yelled. "You've still got to eat and dress!"
Hermione reluctantly turned the knob on the shower before wrapping herself in a fluffy towel. She galumphed into her room and hurriedly tugged on her underwear while Andi dished out the salad in the kitchen. "I'm done!" she declared once she had slathered lotion onto her legs.
"Finally," Andi complained. She pulled out a short suede skirt and a crème blouse decorated with gauzy frills. "I was beginning to think you'd committed hara-kiri in there."
Hermione snorted as she hurriedly donned the clothes and began applying some unfortunately necessary makeup. "Ha! I'm saving that part for later, didn't you know?" She stepped back and took in the reflection visible on the full-length mirror. "This skirt is too short. I can't wear it."
Andi snaked her arm around Hermione's and heartily tugged the protesting brunette out into the kitchen area. "Talk later, eat now."
"But this is completely un –"
"Eat. The. Damn. Salad."
Merlin help me, I am becoming a doormat, Hermione thought as she balefully shoved forkfuls of lettuce and tomatoes into her mouth.
"Fancy a glass of juice?"
Hermione glowered at the other girl and hurriedly chugged a glass of water. "No," she replied while roughly setting the glass down. "I have to brush my teeth so that I don't end up smiling with a mouthful of slobbery green gums."
"Although Malfoy might enjoy that, eh?" Andi rolled her eyes at Hermione's glare and pointed her wand at her. "Calm down, it was just a joke. Here, this'll save you some time." She muttered a quick cleansing spell that left Hermione's mouth tasting like mint. "Now will you allow us to shove off?"
Hermione sighed and slipped her feet into a pair of relatively gentle two-inch heels. "Sure, let's go give Malfoy a heart attack."
"That's the spirit, Hermy. Before you know it you'll be rolling in the galleons, and you'll have no one to thank but me."
The two walked out and held hands, allowing Andrea to transport them to the new office of "Sinful." Hermione tipped her head back to look up at the enormous pillars and felt a darting of unease in her stomach. Surely you aren't thinking about turning back, Hermione? They click-clacked into the main lobby and approached the soft-featured receptionist lady.
"Yes?" she asked, her hands busy rearranging numerous sheets of parchment.
"Er, hello," Andi said cheerfully. "My friend, Hermione Granger, is here for her two-thirty appointment with Mr. Zabini."
The lady glanced at something on her desk before returning to the stacks of papers. "Yes, go ahead – up the stairs and third door on the right."
"Thank you. Come on, Hermione!" Andi called excitedly, already scampering up the marble staircase.
Hermione followed her friend up, carefully noting the expensive furnishings of the office. Even the staircase railings are gilded; one wonders if Malfoy decorates in this way for his pleasure or for others. At the end of the staircase was a long hallway lined with doors. Hermione tentatively traipsed on to the third door on the right – as the receptionist had mentioned – and firmly grasped the brass knob. Setting her shoulders back and slightly clenching her jaw, she swiftly opened the door and stepped in with Andrea right behind her.
The instant she entered, any and all conversation within the room ceased, and the only movement for a few seconds was from Blaise who cordially stood up from his chair and said, "Why, hello Hermione. Good to see that you could make it. Please, have a seat."
She diligently gazed at the floor as she sat down in the nearest chair, sure that temperature in the room had gone down a number of degrees. Andrea settled down on her right, and after that, there was a painfully deafening silence.
"So, Hermione," Blaise began, causing her to lift her eyes from the remarkably interesting carpet. "I presume you are somewhat interested in the modeling industry? I must admit, I was surprised to see your pictures in the envelope that the agency sent me."
She swallowed. Talk, Hermione, TALK. This is an interview, people are supposed to TALK in these things. You're letting a pathetic weasel intimidate you this much? I have never been so ashamed of you! Not a single sound came out of her mouth even though she parted her lips with the intention of saying something.
"Yes!" Andrea quickly exclaimed in a brave attempt to save Hermione. "Er, it was actually I who coaxed her into getting the pictures done. The stubborn girl was determined to die penniless, but I refused to watch her drown in such a fate!"
A scornful cough was issued by the towheaded man next to Blaise. Hermione bit her lip and practically stared at Blaise's face.
"Are you a member of the agency?" The question was obviously directed at Andrea.
"Oh, yes, Mr. Zabini. I'm actually a very new employee, but I thought that maybe Hermione and I would both benefit from an intervention on my behalf, so…"
Blaise nodded. "Right. Well, that was an excellent move on your part, Miss…?"
"Andrea. Just call me Andrea."
"Okay – Andrea. Like I was saying, that was well-thought of you. I can assure you both that we are a very model-centric company, and there is never a shortage of opportunities for our employees. Hermione?" He shifted his attention again. "Would you like to work here?"
Hermione nodded slowly. "I – I would," she croaked. "Very much like to do so." It's difficult to talk when you have daggers being shot at you.
Blaise snatched a water bottle from behind him and rolled it across the table towards Hermione. She picked it up and took a few sips before placing it back on the table and gratefully saying, "Thanks."
"Yeah, you looked like you needed that."
Andrea laughed. "She's nervous, can't you tell?"
Blaise raised his eyebrows in surprise before smiling and saying, "Well, she certainly has no reason to be. I've already checked your records and everything, Hermione. You're absolutely cleared and more than adequately qualified for this job. All we need to handle now are your preferences, your salary and contract, and your starting day of work."
"Er, what do you mean by preferences?" Hermione inquired.
"Oh, it means what fields of modeling you'd like to participate in. If you're a hit, which seems inevitable, then we'll be able to use you in different departments. For example, you may start out in simple perfumes. But eventually, you'll move on to a vast range of clothing and jewelry. What do you think?"
"That sounds…good. I think I'll be fine with whatever you put me in."
Blaise grinned widely and made a series of checkmarks on a parchment in front of him. "Wonderful. Now, because you've accepted a heavier workload than most, how does thirty-five galleons per session sound to you?"
Hermione, unsure of what to decide, turned to Andrea whose jaw had dropped. "Well, what should I do, Andi?" she whispered softly. "Take it or leave it?"
Andi blinked at least seven times before whispering back, "Hermione, this is incredible! Most models get around fifteen or twenty per session – you're getting thirty-five? Hurry up and say yes and sign the bloody contract!"
Hermione turned to Blaise and said, "That sounds fine. What does the contract have about the amount of time I have to work for the company?"
"You're to work here for a year before you can leave us."
"All right, that's fine with me as well. And about the day I start work: I'll go ahead and begin tomorrow if that's okay with you."
Blaise began scribbling things all over several scrolls of parchment. "Wow, that's great! It's nice to see someone actually wanting to start as soon as possible. Report here tomorrow at nine. Your hours will be nine-to-five, and along with the basic modeling, you'll also be in charge of managing some records and doing some research on our competition. Basically, it's a 'know your enemy' thing, you know what I mean?"
Hermione let her gaze flash once to Malfoy's face before answering, "Yes. I know that phrase very well."
Blaise finished off his writing with a flourish of his quill. "Ah, great." He leaned back in his chair and peered over at his friend who appeared to be experiencing some sort of intense pain. "Well, Draco, you haven't said anything this entire time. Do you have anything to add?"
Malfoy idly ran his finger along the length of his quill before reaching the midpoint. With a swift push, he snapped the quill in half. Then he proceeded to break the two pieces into even smaller fragments.
"Well, if you've got nothing to say then we'll just –"
"She's not working here, Blaise," Malfoy stated quietly. "End of story."
Snap.
...
There. He'd said it. He'd let them have their fun, deluding one another that this was actually a good idea; then, he'd dropped the bomb of reality.
There was never a chance of this happening in the first place.
He knew Granger wanted to pick up the sharp remains of the quill in front of him and drive them into his neck, but he didn't mind. He simply relished the satisfaction he got from watching her jaw drop.
"May I know the reason for this harsh denial?" she asked coldly after silently mouthing a couple of colorful curses. The water bottle she had snatched up again crackled obnoxiously in her hands.
Draco leaned forward in his chair and clasped his hands on the table. "Simple," he replied just as frostily. "One, I don't like you, and two, you haven't got what it takes."
She widened her eyes in mock astonishment and crushed the water bottle with her palms. "Oh, I'm sorry. Did I forget to mention that I didn't come here on my own? I was sought out by a certified agency, and if they can give me their seal of approval, then you sure as hell can too."
"Ah, but despite whatever bogus company you registered under, there still remains the problem of me wanting to see you drop off the face of the earth."
She narrowed her eyes and scathingly remarked, "Comfort yourself with the thought that the hateful feeling is completely mutual."
He opened his mouth to say something back, but Blaise quickly leapt to his feet and exclaimed, "All right! This immature altercation has gone on long enough. Hermione," he said kindly to her. "Could you please wait two minutes while I speak with Draco outside? Thank you." With that, he grabbed Draco and lurched him outside the meeting room, leaving behind a pair of incensed witches.
Blaise began pacing back and forth in front of the meeting room's doors, his forehead crumpled in irritation. "Draco, for Merlin's sake, give the girl a break and let her have the job."
Draco leaned idly against the wall and pretended to brush a speck of dust off his sleeve. "Sorry mate, no can do. I've given my opinion on the matter, and you know exactly what to do with it."
"Yes, I do," Blaise remarked acidly as he made a not-so-nice gesture involving his middle finger. "I can kick it out and tell it to screw itself."
"Why are you so adamant about employing that…that…shrew? I mean, honestly, what do you see in her?"
"Well, I can see her as my wife, the mother of my five future children, the companion to my old age."
Draco nearly slid down against the marble upon hearing this. What the bloody hell?
Blaise crossed his arms across his chest and said grimly, "Ask a stupid question, and you get a stupid answer. I think you know just as well as I do exactly why I want her to be a part of this company. She's Hermione Granger! And if anyone knows just how incredibly intelligent she is, it's you!"
Draco curled his hands into fists and stood his ground. "I will not allow some frizzy-haired, bombastic, worthless girl overrule MY say in this matter! She can go find work somewhere else."
Blaise drew out his wand and flicked it upwards, causing a long document to unfurl mid-air. "Ah, let's see here," he muttered as he perused the scroll. "'I, Draco Malfoy, do hereby swear to share fifty percent of all management powers with my partner, Blaise Zabini.'" He continued to read on until he found what he wanted. "Yes, yes here it is! 'Let it be noted that from this moment on, Blaise Zabini is solely in charge of confirming new employment for the company. I, Draco Malfoy, may give advice or suggestions, but in the end, Blaise Zabini will make the final decision."
Shit. Shit, shit, shit.
Blaise looked up triumphantly, waiting for Draco to say something.
Was I bloody drunk when I wrote that? How the hell did I just turn over that power to him? Shit, this means that Granger really IS going to work here. NO! HOW COULD THIS BE HAPPENING TO ME? DAMN YOU, BLAISE!
Careful not to lose his hold on his dignity, Draco straightened up and gazed coolly into Blaise's smirking face. "Well, that's that, I guess."
SON OF A FUCKING BITCH! WHAT THE HELL IS HAPPENING HERE? I CANNOT BELIEVE I AM HAVING TO LET THIS FUCKING TOSSER WALK ALL OVER ME! WHOSE ESTABLISHMENT IS THIS ANYWAYS? MINE, RIGHT? SO WHAT THE FUCK AM I DOING, HANDING OVER DUTIES TO MY ALLEGED BEST FRIEND! SERVES ME RIGHT FOR NOT DOING THE WORK MYSELF AND DEALING WITH MY OWN CONSEQUENCES!
"Excellent. We should go back in now and tell Hermione the good news."
Oh yes, let's. And then we can all go to my house, have some tea and crumpets, and give each other sensual massages because we are all such good friends now.
"Draco," Blaise sighed before entering the room. "Try to fix your expression – you look like a gargoyle."
Draco wordlessly strode past Blaise into the room and plopped into his chair, all the while clenching his fists as tightly as possible.
"Well, my dear ladies," Blaise merrily announced. "We have concluded that it is perfectly all right for Hermione to work here! We could not think of a more deserving or more qualified candidate."
Draco watched as Granger shot him a skeptical glare before offering Blaise a tentative smile. The short, pretty girl stood up and gave Granger an overwhelming hug while squealing endlessly.
Once the din had subsided, Granger got up from her seat and walked over to where Blaise was standing. "Blaise," she said softly with what seemed to be tears in her eyes (Oh, of all bloody nonsense, Draco harrumphed mentally.) "You – you have saved my life. Really, you have. Thank you so much."
Blaise grinned warmly down at her and placed his hands in her slightly shaking ones. "You never had any reason to doubt your place here, Hermione. Besides, you've got a friend in me, and I won't ever let you forget that."
At those words, Granger threw her arms around a pleasantly surprised Blaise and hugged him. Draco narrowed his eyes at the display and turned his chair to face the wall once he saw that Blaise had started to hug her back.
A loud throat-clearing from the other girl caused the two to swiftly let go of each other.
Granger sounded flustered. "Erm, I should go now."
"Ah, yes, no need to stay here any longer. See you tomorrow."
The pretty one said, "Thank you very much for your help, Mr. Zabini."
"It was entirely my pleasure."
"Good bye!"
"Yes, good bye."
After the door had closed, Blaise sat on the table and yawned before saying, "You know, mate, you really ought to have said 'good luck' or something."
"You know I have no reason at all to wish her 'good luck.'"
"Still -"
Suddenly, Draco heard the sound of the door opening again. Blaise leapt to his feet. "Why, Hermione!" he exclaimed. "What brings you back?"
"I – I just forgot to do something. I'll only be a minute."
Draco could hear footsteps coming toward him. What is she doing?
The footsteps stopped. "Malfoy?"
He didn't bother to respond. After all, he knew that she wasn't really expecting him to congratulate her or even speak to her – especially not after he had been against her employment from the start.
"I know you don't want me here, and I know just how much you dislike me. But…what I wanted to say was…thank you."
What?
"Thank you for choosing to let me stay, even though the choice went against your personal preferences."
Draco so dearly wanted to inform her that he had never eased up on his opinion. He had merely just been a victim of his own stupidity.
Her voice got even softer, and he thought he felt her place a hand on the back of his chair. "Maybe someday you'll understand just how much a job like this means to me. For now, I hope you'll just accept my sincere gratitude."
With that, she turned and walked away. Once the door had shut for the final time, the air was filled with a deafening silence.
"Do you still want to know what I see in her?" Blaise asked finally.
"Can you just leave me alone?"
"Suit yourself."
And then, Draco was left to himself. The dark wall in front of him offered him nothing: no advice, no enlightenment, and no support. Why did she have to screw things up like that? There he was, having a fine time loathing her guts, and she just had to return to offer her thanks. Of course, it wasn't helping that his conscience had suddenly decided to return from retirement either.
Merlin, help me.
The following morning, Blaise found Draco hunched over at his handsomely carved desk with his fingers rubbing his temple. "Do you want to observe the first photo shoot with her, Draco?"
Draco grunted. "No. I have better things to do than watch a prissy little nobody make tortured expressions at the camera. You go."
"All the same, it would probably boost her morale…"
"Stop pulling at strings and just leave, Blaise. It's not like my presence will cause her to take on a better appearance or anything – rather, I'd probably make her vomit all over the studio."
Blaise grimaced before turning on his heel. "She's going to start the work for the 'Temptation' perfume today, in case you're curious."
"Great. Let me know when our company goes bankrupt."
"You don't give her much credit, mate."
"I thought you were leaving."
"Just come and see once! If you don't like what you see, then I'll never ask again. But just ONCE will you haul your arse to the studio? For my sake?"
"Do you even want to know how gay you just sounded?"
"Will you or will you not?"
Draco heaved an immense sigh before getting to his feet and grumbling, "Fine, lead me to this place. But if I end up in the mental trauma ward of St. Mungo's, then I'm placing charges against you and Granger."
"Trust me when I say this, Draco. The last thing Granger's going to cause today is mental trauma."
...
C.E. Sparks - I'm glad my stories bring a little amusement into your life. :) Hope you'll continue reading!
C. Kiss - Thanks so much! Hahaha, aren't neurotic moms just wonderful?
Serpent of Slytherin - Wow, your review totally cheered me up. I hope you'll like this chapter...
DracoAndMeliny - Haha, yes, this was definitely meant to be awkward. I felt a pang of regret for Draco as I was typing the part with his mom, but then I decided to ignore it - Draco will get what he deserves. ;)
emily-stone - Okay, so I feel really bad right now as I'm thinking about you and your impatience. I'M SORRY FOR MAKING YOU WAIT! T_T Er...did you like this chapter?