Chapter 5: Smoke & Mirrors
I'm a walking, talking enigma. We're a dying breed. - Larry David
MIC Press Release
16th May, 2004
Mystery Party
Malfoy International Corporation (MIC) will be hosting its next Mystery Party on May 1st. Selected journalists will be invited to cover the exclusive event. Stay tuned for more information.
Witch Weekly
17th May, 2004
Put Your Party Shoes on!
We are super excited to get our press passes for the upcoming Mystery Party! The super sexy Draco Malfoy has announced yet another Mystery Party to be held at his family estate in a fortnight's time.
Only the creme de la creme of high society are invited to MIC's Mystery Parties, which are often fabulous surprise launch events for the company's business ventures. In the last Mystery Party, Mr Malfoy unveiled the mPhone, a business device that has gained considerable traction among wizarding corporations both big and small. We wonder what could possibly be on the cards this time?
Draco was serenely enjoying his morning coffee when he caught the ominous low rumble of unrefined footsteps inching ever closer to his office. He sighed and lowered the porcelain cup with a sense of resigned doom.
Predictably, it was Hermione Granger's face that the doors unveiled.
"FIFTEEN DAYS?" she thundered, shaking a copy of Witch Weekly in his face. "Are you insane, Malfoy? I can't finish a collection in two weeks! Each piece of garment takes hours to make by hand!"
Having weathered the worse of the verbal storm, he picked up his coffee again. "I presume you have a wand, Granger?"
She gaped at him like a Plimpy out of water. "What?! I can't use magic, are you crazy?"
He rolled his eyes. "Welcome back to the wizarding realm, Granger. You make your tea with magic, so why the qualm about using magic in design?"
"I so do not make my tea with magic," she shot back childishly. "And yes, I have a qualm. A fairly big one. Fashion is my art."
Draco sighed and refilled his coffee with a flick of his wand as Granger watched, and he arched an eyebrow as if making a point. "Art. How predictably melodramatic. Get over it, Granger. Even the most established robe makers use magic. And besides, it wouldn't be wizarding fashion otherwise."
"It's couture," argued Granger. "It's meant to be hand made."
"Well, I'm asking you to be a bit unorthodox, can you do that?" he asked almost condescendingly.
"It's not about orthodoxy, Malfoy!"
Exasperation set in and he slapped a firm hand on his desk. "Look, thread and needles are a means to an end. Sewing charms are a means to an end. The difference is the latter will finish the collection on time, the other won't. For this once, I will admit that you are the superior one in terms of logic, so use your god-given gift and tell me 'You're right, Mr Malfoy, I will do as you bid because you are so clever, thank Merlin for your wisdom.'"
Granger crossed her arms on her chest and shook her head slowly. "You are insufferable."
"Perhaps," he conceded, and held up an all-knowing finger. "But that doesn't make me wrong."
Her lips twitched. He could tell she wanted to argue, but the legendary Hermione Granger no-nonsense, let's get down to business mindset took over. She abruptly pulled out a chair and sat down whilst pulling out a notepad. "Okay, let's get started on this."
"Finally. Hallelujah, as the Muggle saying goes."
She shot him a glare. "Shut. Up. How many looks do you want?"
Draco shrugged and sipped his coffee. "How am I supposed to know? You're the designer."
"Well, a standard pret-a-porter collection will have 30 - 20 day and 10 evening looks."
He nodded. "Reasonable."
"And it will be a fall/winter collection."
He snorted. "What the bloody hell is the difference?"
Ignoring him, she scribbled furiously on her notepad. "And what does this collection look like?"
"I'm starting to seriously doubt your intelligence, Granger. I hired you to think about all those things. Stop asking me questions and start giving me answers."
"I need something to work on, since it's technically your collection!" snapped Granger. "So, tell me, what's the Malfoy woman like?" She made a face as if it sounded too corny for her artsy ears.
"Sexy," he replied immediately. "Gorgeous. Likes having a good time."
All the while, Granger mumbled under her breath. "Missing keywords - smart, confident, kind..."
Draco scoffed. "Oh, spare me the talk, Saint G. I think we both know that high collars and baggy pants won't sell very well at all."
Giving him a withering look, she said, "Right, I will need a lot of fabric samples. So I'm thinking of silks, velvets, some softer chiffon in the evening looks..."
"And leather," he interjected. "Lots of leather."
She blinked. "Sorry, Malfoy, I don't use leather."
He nearly jumped out of his seat in mortification. "WHAT? Leather is THE material for fashion! What will the boots and the bags and the skirts be made of?"
"Do you even know how much suffering animals go through before they are skinned for their hide?"
He slapped a despairing hand to his forehead. "Oh Merlin, here we go again."
Granger gave him a high and mighty look down her nose. "Yes, we're going again because I'm telling you once and for all that I am not using leather in my collection. End of."
"Great, now I'm going to be a laughing stock."
"There's really good quality imitation leather out there nowadays. Try keep up with the advances of modern society, Malfoy."
"No!" he objected vehemently, thumping his fist on the desk. "No imitation anything. Everything that has the Malfoy stamp has to be authentic."
"Isn't this superficiality at its best," she lamented. "Listen, Malfoy. I'm not doing this if you insist on real leather. I won't compromise on this one."
Draco glared at her. He used the glare he reserved for situations where the only solution was outright intimidation, and it usually worked. But obviously not on Granger, who was staring right back at him quite comfortably. He let out a long breath through his nostrils.
"Crazy vegans," he muttered to himself.
"Stupid, backward wizards," she fired back.
"Shut up, Granger. And, fine. Fine. But if anyone finds out, it's on you," he said, pointing at her.
"Deal," she agreed with a curt nod.
"Now get out of my office and go work."
She stood up and grumbled, "Slave driver."
Draco grinned contemptuously and called out after her, "Thought that might turn you on, considering how much time you used to spend in the library."
"You're a sick bastard!" she informed him without looking at her.
He shrugged. "I've been called worse, so I'll just take it as a compliment."
Stopping at the door, Granger reminded him, "I need fabric samples, by the way."
He flipped open a file and said, "Ask Lindsay."
"I will not. As I said before..."
"Yes, yes, Marie doesn't work, Lindsay works too much, blah blah blah can you see this does not concern me?" he asked in a tone that told her exactly how tedious he thought she was.
Granger put her hands on her hips, and actually managed to look a tiny bit menacing. "TELL Marie to do that, or I will break you. Or are you too much of a pussy to actually tell your secretary what to do?"
He groaned, "Ugh, fine, I'll tell her. Just go, Granger, I can't handle looking at you for more than ten minutes at a time."
"The feeling's mutual, jackass," she replied with a smile that was anything but happy, and slammed the door shut behind her.
A/N: This chapter was rewritten on 21 October 2013 because I accidentally overrode the original one.
