Hermione spent the rest of the week cleaning out her cubicle at the Ministry, saying goodbye to her coworkers and friends, and taking beatings from her pure-blood teachers.

It had already gotten out that she was joining M.C.G. by Thursday. Skeeter wrote a quick blurb on Draco in the Prophet detailing his current social outings and his relationship status – surprisingly, Katya was not mentioned – and she managed to list the Senior Consultants that had signed on. Hermione recognized a few names, like Cuthbert Mockridge who had retired from the Goblin Liaison Office. She remembered Draco mentioning him.

On Friday, she received two anonymous Howlers at the Ministry. One from a pure-blood fanatic who was disgusted to hear that she would be tainting the Malfoy name with her dirty blood and Muggle ways, and one that chastised her for leaving her future behind and following a Death Eater blindly. It took her thirty minutes to leave the closed office that she'd silenced. Her mood on her last day was essentially ruined until they brought out a cake and threw a little party for her.

She took home her last box, and gave Aiden a hug. He smiled at her and told her maybe he'd swing by the bookstore once in a while. Hermione felt badly that they had never had a second date, even though she honestly had no interest in a second date, but it was really the principle of the thing.

She'd gotten through her weekend classes, learning gothic architecture and how to create a cheese plate, and on Monday she was battling her nerves starting at four in the morning. When she heard Ginny leave at five for practice, she decided to simply get up, and get over to the office. She had one more box of things to pack up and bring.

She stood in the lifts to M.C.G. at 7:30AM, holding a medium sized box that she'd cast a feather-light charm on. The doors opened and she was relieved that Dorothea was no longer stationed up front, but instead a button-nosed redhead beamed up at her.

"Hi, I'm Melody!" She stood from the reception desk and held out her hand to shake. Hermione shifted the box around and held out her hand. Damn handshake.

"Hello, Melody." Hermione brushed hair out of her face with one hand. "Are you our receptionist?"

"One of them!" She had wide teeth, but all-in-all, she was quite attractive. "Oh! I'm supposed to let everyone know that there's an all-staff meeting at 9AM, then just Senior Consultants at 9:30AM. There's also a memo on your desk about it."

"Brilliant. Thank you, Melody."

Hermione shuffled her way over to her office door, managed to open it with one hand, and found Blaise Zabini in her office chair, legs up on the desk.

"Ah! The early bird catches the worm," Blaise said. His fingers were playing with a quill. Probably her quill.

She shook her head at him, and slugged her box to her guest chair, plopping it down. How early did he have to be to beat her?

"So, in this situation, am I the bird? Or the worm?" She frowned at him and placed her hands on her hips.

He smirked at her.

"You're too smart for your own good, Granger."

She grinned and plucked three books from her box. "Yes, I've been told." She walked to the bookshelves near her door and began filling them. "What can I do for you, Blaise?"

"Just wanted to bring this by." He stood from her chair and pulled a piece of paper from his inside pocket. He unfolded it and set it down on her desk just as she was returning to grab more books.

It read Office Relationship Disclosure. She blinked at it. She scanned down the document to see the Partner #1 line had his signature and his printed name. Partner #2 was blank.

"I thought it best to get a jump on this, Granger." She looked up at him and his face was playfully serious. "Before the inevitable happens." His lips twitched.

Hermione felt her jaw drop and a blush spreading, but she couldn't help the way her mouth wanted to smile. He was the most obnoxious cad she'd ever known!

She cleared her throat and turned her expression as earnest as possible.

"Oh, Blaise, darling," she began, "you know how sticky this Love Contract is. It would never work between us, love." She bit back her grin as she took more books to the shelves.

"Ah, but I do believe you're forgetting something, darling," Blaise said. Hermione turned to him after she'd placed the first book. He sat on the edge of her desk. "We're on the same tier. You're not over me and I'm not over you – though I am open to both ways, I'll have you know –" His eyes sparkled and she looked down, twisting her lips to keep from grinning at his ridiculousness. "Senior Consultants dating Senior Consultants is really not as frowned upon."

She looked up at him. He sat so comfortably on her desk, smirking at her. He was joking, yes? He was... riling her up. She shook her head at him and walked back for more books.

"Unfortunately, Blaise, I already have one of these in place with Mockridge. We've been doing it like Flobberworms for months now."

She looked at him innocently, infusing regret into her stare. She watched his eye twitch as the image of eighty-year-old Cuthbert Mockridge came to mind.

"Oh, what a pity." He said, grinning.

"Hmm." She nodded.

His eyes glinted at her and she thought of how dangerous he would be to the young witches in the cubicles, like Melody.

A knock on her doorframe. "Granger?" And she turned to see Draco look up from a paper he was holding. Merlin, he was handsome today, dressed and pressed for his first day.

She watched as his eyes flickered between Blaise, still sitting comfortably on her desk, and herself.

He continued, "Quentin Margolis wants to schedule a meeting with us next week. I'll make myself available whenever, so please respond and let me know." He handed her the letter he was holding, and she skimmed it. There was silence. She looked up and Draco was frowning at Blaise. Blaise was grinning back at him.

"Blaise, are you prepared for your meeting with Dogberd this afternoon?"

"Yes, sir." Blaise's eyes danced.

"Brilliant. Gather your notes and I'll meet you in my office in five minutes."

Blaise brought his hand to his heart. "Mr. Malfoy, you don't trust me?"

Draco leveled his eyes on him. "No."

Blaise chuckled, jumped off of her desk and left with a "See you soon, Granger."

Draco watched him leave the room.

"Who's Dogberd?" she asked as she grabbed up more books.

"He's in charge of the Chudley Canons." Draco turned back to her, watching her. "Blaise is bidding for us to work their Marketing and P.R."

"Oh." She looked up at him. "That's a pretty big deal, isn't it?" She took the books to her shelves. She gestured out the door, to where Blaise just exited. "Is he any good? Does he have any idea what he's doing?"

"Unfortunately, he's the best."

She looked over her shoulder at him, and he smiled, shaking his head.

"Glad to hear he's worth the effort." She chuckled.

"You like your office?"

She placed the last book and turned around. "I love it." She leaned back on the shelves and smiled. He watched her.

"Good."

Her chest was warm, thinking of the last time they'd made eye contact like this. Across a drawing room glittering with champagne, and before that, just inches away on a balcony.

She looked at the floor, took a breath, and moved back to her box, passing him. "So, an all-staff meeting today at nine? Followed by a Senior Consultant meeting?"

She began pulling her trinkets out of her box – a framed picture of her and her parents, little baubles that sat on her desk at the Ministry. She looked up when he hadn't responded. His eyes were on her desk, where a piece of paper with Blaise's signature still sat.

Her heart stopped.

"Er, yes." He snapped out of it, and she opened her mouth to explain, to deny, to say anything. "Just a meet-and-greet, really." He straightened the front of his robes and nodded to her. "See you at nine."

She watched as his eyes turned off. And he left.

She threw her head back and growled. She grabbed the damn Office Relationship Disclosure and set it on fire.

~*~

She headed to the conference room on the opposite side of the floor at 8:50AM. She left her office and was surprised to see so many people filling up the cubicles. She closed her door, and the man in the cubicle closest to her office stood and waved.

"Miss Granger." He walked to her and held out his hand. Again, Madame Michele's lessons left her brain. "I'm Walter, your Associate."

"My...?"

"Associate Consultant." Walter grabbed his notepad and gestured for Hermione to continue towards the conference room. "Each Senior Consultant has one or two Associates and I'm yours!" He gave a bit of a "ta-daa!" gesture that had Hermione grinning.

He was... quite handsome... and married. She found the ring. He looked to be thirty-five or so, and suddenly Hermione felt very strange to be above this adult man.

"That's wonderful. Hello, Walter, good to meet you." She turned the corner around a set of cubicles and Walter followed. "And where did you work before this?"

"I was in Romania with the Dragon Sanctuary."

Hermione stopped in the middle of the aisle and turned to him with bright eyes. "Oh! So you must know –"

"—Charlie Weasley, yes!" Walter smiled. "One of my best mates."

"Oh, that's wonderful! Why did you leave the Sanctuary?" Hermione continued down the aisle when she saw that they were holding up quite a few people.

"My wife is pregnant," he said, smiling. "So, it was time to leave the dragon-wrangling behind. Or so she told me."

Hermione grinned. "I'm sure she's glad to have you safe."

Walter held the door open for her and she entered a conference room slightly bigger than the one she and Draco would use at the Ministry. Walter then held the door open for several more people, so Hermione was separated from him momentarily. Draco stood at the other side of the room, at the head of the conference table, speaking to Cuthbert Mockridge. There were ten or so chairs at the table, and about twenty lining the walls. Melody waved to her from the one near the door.

She was just about to take the chair next to Melody, slightly away from it all, when she noticed a pamphlet on the table with Wendell Wentworth on the cover. She looked to the right and saw that another Senior Consultant's name was on the pamphlet next to that. It seemed seats were assigned.

She wandered past Melody and to the other side of the table, passing Mockridge's name and passing Dorothea's name.

Just to Draco's left, there was Hermione Granger – Non-Wizard Relations. She pulled her chair and sat down, frowning. She had thought her branch was isolated, removed. It was a strange idea for a branch of a consulting group, and she'd assumed she would be more of the "kid-sister" to the company, coming and going and bringing good opinion. But she was seated at Draco's left, like she was important somehow. More important than Wentworth and Mockridge, who were apparently working closely with Draco in Financial Consulting.

She raised her eyes and found Blaise across from her, watching her. Oh, perfect.

She started flipping through her pamphlet. It held the mission statement, the prose on company objectives, and charts on profitability.

At precisely nine o'clock, Mockridge took his seat and Draco called the meeting to attention. She looked around the room and found that the support staff and Associate Consultants were lining the walls. Several of the young witches in the room had their eyes raptly held on Draco.

"Welcome. Welcome everyone," Draco began. "Thank you all for taking a chance on Malfoy Consulting, and for taking a chance on yourselves." He tapped a knuckle on the pamphlet in front of him. "Dorothea has prepared some wonderful paperwork, that I trust you will go over at your leisure. But I did want to spend this time letting everyone introduce themselves, tell us what you'll be doing here." He turned to her. "Granger?"

She almost jumped. Draco sat. Her heart beat quickly, thinking how she didn't really know the answer to that question herself. She stood from the table, and felt every eye on her.

"Hello, everyone. I'm Hermione Granger," she said. Several people lining the walls craned their neck around their colleagues, trying to get a look at her. "I'm the Senior Consultant over Non-Wizard Relations, specifically magical creatures, and Muggle relations." She wasn't sure if she was supposed to say anything else, but the words were flowing out of her. "I came from the Department of Magical Creatures in the Ministry, and I've developed a strong relationship with several groups of species." She could feel heat on her neck. "Er, and being Muggle-born will assist with the other bits..." Some people chuckled, and a few young witches smiled at her. "Er..." She looked to Draco. "Is that all I needed to say?"

He was leaned back in his chair, elbow resting on his knee, and hand covering his mouth. She could just make out the corner of his lips lifting. "More than enough, Granger." His eyes were teasing her.

She narrowed her gaze at him, thanked the room and sat back down. Dorothea stood and said, "Dorothea Bulstrode, Admin." And sat.

Hermione blushed. As people continued to introduce themselves with only their name and their title, less and less of them even bothered standing. She kept her eyes trained on her pamphlet, and finally looked up to see Blaise smiling at her, chuckling.

The rest of the support staff and Associates finished introducing themselves, and Hermione was tickled to note that Draco had only hired male employees under Blaise.

Draco said a few more things, empowering, yet authoritative. Then he released the support staff and Associates. Draco thanked them all and asked them to turn to page fourteen of Dorothea's pamphlet.

"I don't wish to be cagey with you all about financials or operations. I'd like to think that we're all a team here." Draco cleared his throat. "And within each department, we will all be responsible for meeting financial goals, keeping to a budget, and so on." He tapped his wand on the wall and a large version of page fourteen appeared across the paint.

It was the current financial map of Malfoy Consulting Group. Hermione wasn't sure how many people in the room understood that the start-up cash was Draco's inheritance, but she recognized it once she saw it split into tenths, projected to enter the accounts every Tuesday.

Her eyes glazed over the numbers, for the first time understanding just how much Draco's inheritance was. She blinked, surprised and anxious. He hadn't needed to work at all. He hadn't needed to work a day in his life, and yet he started a company. He threw it all away to leave his mark on the world.

Draco had been talking and she wasn't listening, so she tried to tune back in. He was starting to discuss the projected revenue for the months of January and February.

Cuthbert Mockridge cut in. "These ten installments.... Well, things are going to get quite tight at the end of January and possibly February once paychecks are cut."

"Yes." Draco said no more.

"Well," Mockridge sighed, "this investment..." Mockridge scratched his beard. "Do you have any worries about these transfers? Are there any... contingencies?" The way he asked, Hermione could tell that Mockridge understood that it was Draco's inheritance. And Mockridge understood it was coming from Lucius.

"Nothing like that." Draco shrugged. Hermione blinked. He had no idea... "But, yes, things are going to be tight if we don't work on our revenue stream immediately."

She wondered how the Magical Creature community was going to pay for her services. Her entire branch was practically a financial black hole.

"We are also looking for someone to fill our Wizengamot Relations position, so please spread the word," Draco said.

Hermione frowned. Wasn't that the position Tiberius Ogden was supposed to fill? Noelle's father?

Draco continued, "So I will be acting as Wizengamot Consultant for the time being, with the help of Corban Hartford, who you all met last week. Please use him as a resource for your own projects.

"On a higher note," Draco grinned. "We'll have the Prophet in tomorrow, along with a few other reporters. Rita Skeeter will be doing a write up for us, taking pictures, talking to staff. Hopefully getting some good publicity for M.C.G. So please dress your best, and I'll be sending a memo this afternoon with talking points if you need any assistance."

Dress your best. Brilliant. Hermione tapped her quill.

"Thank you all for being here today. Meeting dismissed." Draco closed the folder in front of him and stood from the chair. His grey robes were stylized much like a Muggle suit, so he closed his front buttons as he stood.

Hermione quickly put away her quill and tucked away her papers. The other senior staff members were shaking hands and chatting about their families.

"Granger."

Hermione looked up to see Draco poking his head back through the door.

"You have a 10AM in your office."

Her eyes widened. "I do?" She jumped from her chair and followed Draco out. He led her down the office floor, ignoring the secretarial pool batting their lashes at him. "Do I need to have anything prepared? Who is the meeting with? Did I miss this memo?"

"Calm down, Granger." He stopped at her door. "It's just a preliminary appointment."

Draco opened her office door and stepped aside for her to enter first. A woman with crisp black hair turned in her visitor chair, and Hermione stopped in her doorway when Pansy Parkinson grinned at her.

"Granger," Pansy said. "Wonderful to see you."

Hermione watched as Pansy stood from her chair, her long legs carrying her across the room. She reached her hand out for Hermione's and she took it. She shook hands like a gentleman. If Hermione's brain was firing, she would have thought that to be interesting.

"I hope you've been well." Pansy's manicured hand released hers. She looked over Hermione's shoulder to Draco and said, "We're fine here, Draco."

Hermione's wide eyes met Draco's neutral greys. He looked back and forth between the two women, and then shut the door behind him.

Hermione looked at the door handle, begging it to turn again, before remembering that this was her office, not the Slytherin common rooms. She turned to Pansy and took control of the meeting as best she could.

"Pansy." She tried a smile at her, but Pansy was already grinning back, like they were old friends. "Please sit." Pansy sat again in the chair she had already claimed, and Hermione walked around her desk to face her. "Are you also on staff with M.C.G.? I apologize if I wasn't aware."

"Oh, no," Pansy said, waving the air. "I'm just hoping to create a working relationship with the firm."

"Wonderful," Hermione said as she straightened her pencils and tapped at her ink pot. "And what branch are you most interested in?"

"You."

Hermione looked up and Pansy was smirking. She suddenly felt like she was in the Great Hall again, and Pansy had figured out another way to tease her.

"Me." Hermione repeated.

"Granger," Pansy began, pulling a large book out of her bag. "I moved to France after the Final Battle and immediately began studying under Madame le Roux." She plopped the book onto Hermione's desk.

"Oh. That's... wonderful."

Pansy studied her face for a moment before clarifying, "Madame le Roux is the foremost designer of wizarding clothes in all of Wizarding Europe."

"Yes, of course." Hermione nodded her head like this was an accidental slip, instead of a lack of knowledge.

"She actually designed the wedding gown for your friend, Fleur Weasley," Pansy offered, as if this would help ring any bells. "Regardless, I have started my own fashion line for the 'Modern Business Witch,' a woman who I believe is embodied by both her femininity and her dominance, her intelligence and wit, and her leadership in the wizarding business world."

Pansy looked at her expectantly.

"Wonderful." Hermione felt like that was the only word she knew today.

Pansy flipped open the book. The first page was a print ad from Witch Weekly featuring a stunning twenty-something girl carrying a satchel bag. She wore what looked like a Muggle business suit, but on closer inspection, the suit was actually wizarding robes. It was a perfect combination of the two cultures. Hermione looked up at the former Slytherin blood purist, confused.

"The Parkinson line focuses on the juxtaposition of the Muggle and the Magical, creating a world where the two can coexist."

Pansy turned the page to show a fashion sketch of a woman in long Wizarding robes, but the robes were cinched at the waist, much like a Muggle dress. The next page had a take on the modern pant suit. Pansy continued explaining her designs, as she flipped pages, and Hermione found herself overwhelmed. The clothes looked beautiful and the models in the print ads were just as beautiful. Pansy seemed to be wrapping up her "presentation," or whatever it was she was doing, and Hermione was still confused.

"The Parkinson line hopes to be the foremost designer for today's working professionals." And with that, Pansy closed her book. "All we need now, is the right model. Someone who not only will wear our clothes in the professional world, but who also embodies the ideals of the 'Modern Business Witch.'"

Pansy looked into Hermione's eyes with a grin. Hermione blinked.

"Of course," Hermione said. "I'm sure the secretarial pool would be thrilled to be introduced to this line—"

"Damn it all, Granger!" Pansy slammed her book on the desk. "Are you the Brightest Witch of Our Age or not? You!" Pansy rolled her eyes. "We want you to be the spokesperson."

Hermione was torn between relief that Pansy was finally acting like herself, and shock. "Me?"

"Yes! You are the highest-ranking woman in the freshest company in all of the Wizarding World. You are a war-heroine who is pictured daily by the tabloids. When you are on the cover of Witch Weekly or above the fold in The Prophet, we want you to be wearing the Parkinson line, embodying the ideals of the 'Modern Bus—'"

"Yes, yes. The 'Modern Business Witch.'" Hermione looked at the woodgrain on her desk. She felt a bit embarrassed, being singled out for something like this. She had never been interested in fashion or girly things, so to represent an entire group of people who did have those interests... But then she supposed that saying no was not an option. Draco clearly wanted her to have this meeting. Did he not trust her to represent the firm properly in her daily clothes? Or was he simply helping an old friend with her new business?

"How would this work?" Hermione asked. "What would it mean to be the 'spokesperson' for the Parkinson line?"

Pansy smirked, and Hermione now recognized a glint in her eyes that she had seen on Draco. It meant she was winning.

"Every Sunday evening you would receive that week's clothes by owl. On the following Sunday you can return them as the new outfits arrive. I will label them as Monday, Tuesday, etc., but if you have any questions or if anything is not fitting correctly, I will be available by Floo every morning from six to eight. And, generally all five outfits can be interchanged—"

"So, I would be getting five new outfits every week? How long will this go on?" Hermione thought of her blue robes in her closet that were her "go-to" robes. She usually wore those twice a week. She wasn't even sure she had five outfits right now to last all week without a repeat.

"We would start with a three-month contract and then take it from there."

"Three months?" Hermione gaped. "Three months of brand new clothes every week?"

"Well, you may repeat an outercoat or a skirt—"

"Pansy, this really sounds lovely," Hermione stopped her. "But it's slightly overwhelming. And, we haven't even talked cost. At this time I really don't have the funds for—"

"Granger," Pansy said. Her perfectly arched brow was raised. "You would be a spokesperson and a model. You would not be paying anything."

"What?" Hermione stared at Pansy's face, wondering just how she got her makeup to look like that.

"When someone asks you 'What are you wearing?' you reply, 'Parkinson.' That is how you pay for these clothes. Besides. You're not keeping them. It's like you're renting them. It's all very easy."

Hermione was still torn, and Pansy must have sensed this.

"Let's do a trial run, yes? Just this week?" Pansy pulled a pen and a pad out of her bag. "Write your address on here, and tonight when you get home from the office, you will have four outfits for the rest of the week waiting for you. Besides, the photographer will be here tomorrow. You'll want to look your best."

Hermione was just wondering what she would be wearing tomorrow while the cameras were here, so really there was no harm in giving Pansy her address.

As she handed over the slip of paper with her flat number on it, Pansy smiled and said, "Expect me at 6AM."

"At... oh. You'll be over tomorrow morning?"

"Just to be sure everything is fitting right, see if I need to do any last minute resizing," Pansy said, grabbing her book and standing. "And I'll bring a stylist for your hair and makeup so you won't need to worry about that." She waved her hand and Hermione realized that she wasn't "worried about that" at all. She had not even thought about hair and makeup.

"Alright." Hermione stood to walk her out, feeling a bit dizzy. "Pansy, are you sure about this? I mean, there has to be another person who exemplifies this 'Modern Business Witch.' Someone who's in the papers often enough and – Katya! What about Draco's... er, Katya Viktor?"

Pansy grimaced. "As a model, Katya is signed with certain designers already. And also, I hate her."

Hermione laughed out loud. She bit back her grin, worry scratching at her face.

"Hermione." Pansy smirked at her. "You are the most talked about witch in all of Europe. The most photographed, the most respected... and soon to be the most feared." Hermione blinked at her. "Isn't it time you started dressing like one?"

~*~

She didn't get a chance to tell Ginny about Pansy and her crew coming over. She didn't expect Ginny to have the day off. So, when the redhead knocked on the bathroom door at 5:45AM as Hermione was getting out of the shower, Hermione jumped.

"Hermione... Your friend Pansy Parkinson is here..."

She wrapped a towel around herself and cracked the door, letting the steam out. Ginny's face was wide, and her hair was a mess from sleep.

"Tell me this is a nightmare?"

Before Hermione could respond, Pansy appeared behind Ginny.

"Hermione, love! So glad you're already showered. What kind of moisturizer do you use?"

She blinked at her. She was standing in front of Pansy Parkinson in only a towel. Ginny was right: it was a nightmare.

"Er... Well there's this Muggle product I sometimes put on my arms..."

Pansy's eyes shifted. "You don't use moisturizer?" Her eyes moved over her face. "Merlin, you've been lucky this far –" And suddenly Pansy Parkinson was pushing her bathroom door open and putting her hands on her face. She felt like she was about to be choked, or have her eyes gouged out. "Excellent pores, Granger."

"...Thank you."

"I've been telling her this for years." Ginny shook her head at her, curls billowing around her head.

"Yes, you really must use moisturizer. Ginevra, have you tried Harper Hoddy's Hush Cream?"

"I've heard of it, yes."

"It's lovely. You must try it. I have a sample."

"Oh, wonderful!"

Hermione stared at the two of them... bonding? Pansy called for someone out in the living room, and then a Greengrass sister was in the doorway too.

"Daph, can I get two samples of Hush Cream?"

Daphne Greengrass was not the nice Greengrass from New Year's. She was equally as pretty as her younger sister, but less inclined to smile, Hermione soon realized.

After Pansy and Ginny gushed more about this cream, and Daphne asked her if she knew how to apply it – "Doesn't it just go on your face?" – and Daphne showed her the upward circle technique, Hermione was ushered into the living room, still wearing only a towel.

Tracey Davis was there, setting up a hair station. Ginny played hostess in her pink pajamas, offering coffee and tea and then whipping together a tray of muffins.

Daphne prodded at her face while Tracey pulled at her hair and Ginny and Pansy talked shoes. Hermione sat still and drank her coffee whenever Daphne pulled a brush away. Tracey dried her hair and pulled it back into something she called the "power pony" after she curled it. Pansy had a tendency to ask her questions as Daphne was in the middle of something, causing Daphne to frown at her as she responded.

An idea struck her as Daphne came at her with an eyeliner pencil – what if they were painting her face like a clown, and ruining her hair. What if these Slytherin girls were torturing her to make her look ridiculous for public pictures. Her heart leapt, but then she remembered that Ginny was in the room. Ginny would know if they were.

When the girls were done, Pansy told her to try on the dress she'd laid on her bed. So, at some point, Pansy had entered her bedroom. Wonderful.

She shut her bedroom door behind her and finally took off the towel. Hermione sighed, stomach feeling a bit tight thinking of being interviewed today. And dealing with Skeeter. And Draco. And Blaise and Pansy.

She turned to see an olive green dress laid on her bed, with a vest of sorts on top. A pair of beige heels on the floor. It was... nothing she would have picked out for herself, but she could see how it fit into Pansy's Modern Business Witch aesthetic.

She slipped the dress over her head, liking how light the fabric was and how the long sleeves opened wide at her elbows. The bottom came just above her knees, and she was grateful that it wasn't really revealing or anything like that. She turned to see herself in her mirror and had to take a step back.

Her complexion was perfect. Her eyebrows were darker and more defined, and her eyelids were dark and deep without looking too much like.... well, like a prostitute. Her hair was in a high ponytail, tight and controlled, with curls falling to her shoulder blades.

The dress fit perfectly. She grabbed the vest, unbuttoned it and slid it over her shoulders. It was more of a waistcoat, really. It was a light brown leather and as she began buttoning it up the front, Pansy entered without knocking. Like the close friend she was.

"Oh, Granger." She brought her hands to her lips. Hermione looked down at herself. Had she done it wrong? Pansy continued, "You are stunning!"

Ginny ran in, still adorable in her pajamas and Tracey and Daphne followed, their eyes wide and gleeful. Pansy stopped her from buttoning the vest, claiming that she had no idea how tiny she was, and used her wand to size the fabric of her dress closer to her ribs. She helped her button up the vest, telling Hermione to tug at her breasts to get them to lift above the tight buttons. Hermione stepped into the nude heels, and looked in the mirror, Pansy appearing over her shoulder.

"That is the Modern Business Witch."

Even Daphne smiled.

~*~

Pansy, Tracey, Daphne and Hermione stood in the lift heading up to the top floor. It was a blizzard of activity when the doors opened. Rita was talking to Walter, Bozo was taking pictures of the office – focusing a bit too much on Melody – and another reporter was talking to Wentworth.

Pansy walked past them all, leading her tribe to the back left corner. Draco's office. She'd never seen it before.

It was all steel and leather and hilarious masculinity. It was just about the same size as hers, but instead of a wall of bookshelves, he had a black leather couch next to a singular bookshelf. His desk looked like it was made of stone instead of wood, like an obsidian or dark marble. His office was imposing and sexy. And she thought of how opposite her office was.

He wasn't in the office, thankfully, but Blaise was talking to a reporter, having a photographer dance around him. He looked her up and down as she entered and couldn't even find a comment to make, but he smiled as he continued what he was saying. It seemed Tracey and Daphne were here to check the hair and skin of the others being pictured. Daphne took Blaise to the side to smooth out his complexion with a darker color. Hermione watched the two of them frown at each other, not speaking.

Rita pounced on her at that moment, having followed them into Draco's office. She answered questions on what her role at Malfoy Consulting will be, and what cases she was excited for. Rita shoved her back against Draco's window, and had Bozo take a few pictures of her. Tracey came over and smoothed her ponytail, bringing her hair over her shoulder. Hermione didn't know how to stand or whether to smile or not, so Pansy placed her hand on her hip and told her to look out the window. Bozo loved it.

As she was being placed in another position, Draco entered, sliding his arm into his jacket. He stopped when he saw her and she met his eyes. The camera flashed. He fixed his collar and continued to Rita, shaking her hand. Rita blushed.

The photographers gathered in Draco's office, and slowly the Senior Consultants filed in. Rita began placing them around Draco's desk, getting them primed for a picture. Tracey and Daphne began running around, making sure the men's hair was in place.

It wasn't until that very moment that Hermione realized. She was the only female Senior Consultant. Yes, Dorothea was a managing director and would be in the same meetings, but she was in a room of men, mostly Slytherins, possibly pure-blood. She felt quite energized by that.

That was until Rita asked her to sit on Draco's desk.

She stared at her. Rita dragged her over to perch on the corner of Draco's very expensive looking desk. She looked for him, to see if he would stop this, and found him talking to Pansy across the room. She felt a pain in her ribs at seeing them together, that she shook away. Draco looked up at her as she slid onto the end of the desk. He said something to Pansy and Pansy smirked at him. Hermione looked down.

The rest of the Senior Consultants were placed around Draco's desk, leaving the chair for him open. Once he took it the flashes started. Hermione smiled, then quickly looked at Wentworth, who was smirking confidently. She looked to Pansy who shook her head at her. No, do not smile.

Hermione left her features blank. That didn't feel right.

"Excellent. Pause!" Pansy said. Hermione was surprised she could take control of this photoshoot like that. Tracey and Daphne went to the men, sweeping their hair the right way and Pansy approached her. "You have to smile with your eyes, Granger." Pansy demonstrated. "Imagine you have a secret."

Which one? Hermione thought.

They started taking pictures again and Pansy grinned at her. Was it possible she'd done it right? The photographers repositioned them all a few times, once having all of them stand behind Draco in his chair. Hermione and Blaise framed him.

Then Rita excused all the Senior Consultants except for Draco, Blaise and her.

"We're going to focus a bit on this next generation." Rita's eyes were gleaming. "The youngest entrepreneurs."

Hermione swallowed. She directed them to the couch. Hermione felt very stiff suddenly. They had her sit on the arm of the couch. She was being treated much like a prop, she realized. Pansy saw her frowning and approached her.

"What's happening in that brilliant head, Granger?"

"I'm not sure I like this, Pansy. This Modern Business Witch. I really don't think I'm cut out for it." She looked away from her and Blaise was watching them. "I don't like how I'm... being draped everywhere. Like a doll."

Pansy lifted a brow. "Well, that is the world of fashion, Hermione."

"Then I don't think it's my world."

Pansy nodded at her, thinking. "Get through this set up, and I'll fix it."

Hermione stared at her, then nodded.

They had Draco sit on the couch next to the arm she was on. They put Blaise behind the couch, leaning forward. She had to cross her legs awkwardly, knowing that Draco's shoulder was right near her hips, and after a few shots, they directed her to place her hand just behind Draco's other shoulder on the back of the couch and lean her body that way.

After that pose was done, Pansy redirected them to the desk. She had Hermione stand two steps in front of it. She placed Blaise and Draco behind her, leaning on the desk. Hermione suddenly regretted saying anything, as now she was front and center. Pansy had her place her hands on her hips, staring proudly down the lens. She felt a power flow through her as the bulbs flashed. Pansy had the boys step out and gave her a book. They took several shots of her leaning on Draco's desk, reading a book. She felt quite comfortable. She smiled up at Pansy.

"Miss Granger, I am adoring this style on you. Who are you wearing?" Rita's quill twitched behind her.

Hermione looked up at Pansy. Draco stood just behind her, eyes running over her.

"Parkinson." Hermione smirked. The camera popped.

Pansy's lips parted in a slow smile, and Draco's eyes flashed at her.