Chapter Thirty Three
Hermione was in an empty conference room in the Signora di Segreto, all the chairs had been moved to the sides of the long room and a rug had been placed down the length of the room to simulate a catwalk. Aurelia had given Hermione some ridiculously high heeled shoes and was now barking instructions at her from the sidelines.
"No, keep your head up! Stop looking at your feet! Extend your leg as you move forwards!" Aurelia shouted. "Now put your hand on your right hip and extend your left leg! That's it, now turn, and put your hand on your left hip and extend your right leg... NO YOUR RIGHT LEG!"
"For god's sake Aurelia." Hermione shouted back, "I am doing the best I can. Stop bloody shouting at me or I will just drop you in it, and you can see if you can find a new model to abuse in the next..." She looked at her watch, "Two hours?"
"Okay, okay." Aurelia said, "I'm sorry. I won't shout any more, I am just really nervous. I have to be at the theatre in less than an hour and some of my models haven't even been fitted yet. I'm going to have to pin them into their dresses as we go."
"Right," Hermione said understandingly, "I know, now if you will just show me what to do, I will copy you as well as I possibly can and then we will leave it at that."
Aurelia sashayed down the hall, her hips swaying as she did, she made three turns, one to the left, one to the right before turning a full 360 degrees and sauntering back down the runway.
"Okay," Hermione said, "I think I can handle that." She set off down the room, mimicking Aurelia. "How did I do?" Hermione asked when she had returned to the near side of the room.
"It wasn't perfect but it wasn't bad either." Aurelia said, "In fact I would say you're a natural. If we had a few more hours I wouldn't be able to distinguish you from the pros, except for the fact that you are feminine and possess some curves whereas most of them look like they could do with a few decent meals." Aurelia laughed. "You'll do, let's go."
Hermione and Aurelia only had to walk about two hundred metres as the crow flies across Calle Campi to the Teatro la Fenice, but since they had to haul a clothes stand full of Aurelia's entire collection and two cases which were packed to bursting with Aurelia's boots, masks, accessories and make up, it took the girls more than half an hour to cover the short distance.
"Good job it's not raining." Aurelia wheezed as they huffed and puffed their way to the theatre.
The Teatro di Fenice was an imposing white building. Four flags hung above the colonnaded entrance, including the Italian and European Union flags and below them hung a huge banner which had been enchanted so that to the muggle community it read, "closed for maintenance until the 10th November," whilst the magical community read, "Winter Witch Fashion Show, 9th November," with a big red "Fully booked" underneath that. Hermione and Aurelia struggled up the deep steps to the entrance, with the help of a few passers-by.
They were directed to the behind the stage area, which was a hive of activity. Ridiculously skinny models swanned around scarcely dressed, whilst the designers rushed around with clipboards, checking their clothes racks continuously and ordering harassed looking hair-dressers and beauticians around.
Aurelia was shown to a tiny space at the very back of the changing area, which consisted of a tiny dresser with a dusty mirror above it, there was just enough empty space for the clothes rack to fit into and a couple of chairs were squeezed up against a dingy wall. Aurelia's other models were already waiting for her. They were tall and willowy and not particularly attractive, they each wore vacuous expressions on their hard faces, and Hermione felt slightly intimidated by them, but there wasn't time for her to dwell on it as she was quickly whisked into a chair whilst the resident hairdresser and beautician roughly went to work.