Which Witch?

Cho thought Harry should have been a little more understanding about the situation, and that he should have known that it wasn't easy to get over a loved on so fast.

Hermione and Ron, well, they just had their eyes glued to one another, holding hands.

The six of them walked on, not daring to make eye contact, save for Ron and Hermione.

Finally, the Magic World of Glamour came into view. They walked inside. It was a very fancy place, with elegant tapestries hanging from the walls and ornate borders on the walls. Grand chandeliers hung from the ceiling, and a luxurious spiral staircase led to the second floor. The marble floor with its ornate designs added to the majestic ambience.

"Bloody hell!" an awed Ginny whispered.

"Wow! It's pretty rich for a studio," Harry said.

"Yeah, I thought it would be a lot-- simpler."

A thin man appeared in front of Harry, Ginny, Cho, Ron, Hermione, and Draco. He was dressed in jeans and a sweatshirt, which looked extremely out of place.

"Welcome to the Magic World of Glamour. I assume you are wondering why a studio would be this grand?" Five heads nodded. "Well, we take ballroom shots here. In each room on this level and the higher level you will find a different theme that corresponds with the clothes you will be modeling. The set manager can change the themes, also. As you may know, some wizarding events require Muggle clothing, and some wizards just find Muggle clothes more comfortable and practical. I believe you six do too." He scanned their clothes quickly and shifted uncomfortably.

"That is why you will be modeling Muggle clothing along with wizard's robes. The clothes you will model are from Gladrags. You will be starting shooting today, though I doubt we will get much done. We may need to, ahem, fix your poise a bit, change your hair slightly, and add a little makeup." He looked at Ron slouching, Hermione's bushy hair and Harry's messy hair, and Ginny's and Malfoy's pale skin. He seemed put out, as though he were expecting them to have come giving him advice on how to change his looks.

Malfoy snorted. "You mean fix the poise of these bumbling idiots," he said rudely, pointing at the other five.

"No. In case you haven't noticed, the style in which you are carrying yourself makes you seem overbearing and aggravating, and you ought to get an attitude adjustment along with the other changes."

Harry grinned at Ron, who had finally torn away from Hermione.

"Anyway, you will each sign a contract agreeing to the terms. Accio!"

Contracts and pens landed to each person. After they had each signed, the man whisked away the contracts.

"By the way, my name is Mr. Dorrilslo. Oh, and, any rudeness or misbehavior towards one another or to any of the staff, and you will be put on probation. This should limit any, er, confrontations." Mr. Dorrislo looked warily from Harry and Ron to Draco. "The boys changing room is on the left and the girls on the right. And now, please follow me. I am taking you to the costume designer."

They didn't have to walk long before they saw two doors on their right. One said "Costume Designer" and the other "Hairdresser" in flashing letters. Mr. Dorrislo led them to the costume designer door first. She turned out to be a kind, casual young woman in her mid twenties. Her blond hair was in a ponytail, and her blue eyes were twinkling.

"I was expecting you, Mr. D. So these are the models, I presume?"

"Yes, all six are here," Mr. Dorrislo pointed each of them out. "Oh, and Ms. Crismold, call me Mr. Dorrislo, not Mr. D. I'll leave you to it, then."

"Sure thing, Mr. D." Mr. Dorrislo let out a groan and walked out. "First thing, you won't be doing any modeling today. I'll be giving you the tour, I'm kind of manager around here, so I'll be introducing everyone, you know. The tour won't take very long; this place isn't too big. Second, as old D probably already told you, he's going to do all that makeup and poise crud. Okay, some clothes, keyword some, are behind me, categorized by the themes D uses around here."

"This is the size of our old house-elf's room," Malfoy whispered audibly to himself. This startled Harry a bit-he almost forgot Malfoy was there.

"I don't know how much space your old house-elf took, Mr. Malfoy, but I built this office to my standards, and if your old house-elf couldn't fit in here, I'd have to say it would need to lose weight," Ms. Crismold said icily. Malfoy looked slightly abashed. "Everyone that works here has their own office. All the other offices are around the corner except for the hairdresser. They probably won't be in their offices though. They're probably lounging about this place as if it's their home. All right, you six, I'll be back in a few." Ms. Crismold left the office.

"I wouldn't mind living here. Look at all those beautiful clothes," Ginny murmured to Harry.

"Bet this old office is like a palace compared to your place, eh, Weasley?"

"Get stuffed, Malfoy," Harry said angrily.

"Oh, Potter on the rebound from Chang here is going after Weasley, now is he?" Harry and Cho both blushed red.

"It's time you realized you're not on top of things, Malfoy." Ginny said, also turning scarlet.

"Let's take your dad as the prime example..." But Ginny still couldn't bring herself to tell anyone about Malfoy's trouble at home.

"He's richer than all of you combined."

"Don't gie us that crap, Malfoy, your father isn't even human," Ron growled. All this was said while Cho stood silently in a corner. Harry was personally offended; he thought she would at least come to his and his friends' defense.

"At least I don't walk around with a bloody imbecile like that," Malfoy said, his trademark smirk in place. Harry and Ginny held on to Ron to stop him from diving at Malfoy while Hermione said,

"Takes one to know one."

Just then Ms. Crismold walked through the door. Harry and Ginny let go of Ron. "Okay," she said cheerfully. "Let's go meet the hairdresser." They walked out of the office, Malfoy smirking at Ginny, as Ms. Crismold opened the hairdresser's office door.

There, with curlers in his hair, every white tooth shining, lavender robes fitting perfectly, was the beaming face of Gilderoy Lockhart.