Your Body is a Wonderland

Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling. No copyright infringement is intended. No money is being made.

"Your Body is a Wonderland"
by: Christine


Draco eyed the mirror, his lips pulled down into a frown as he looked at the results. Although, he should now think of himself as a she since the reflection scowling back was that of a tall, thinly-framed teenage girl.

Her body wasn’t very alluring to look at; nothing at all resembling his … her mother, Narcissa. Where Narcissa was elegant, beautiful, and graceful, Draco was skinny and gangly, and her breasts were lopsided. She sneered at her reflection. It was … imperfect.

“Unacceptable,” she muttered.

No matter, though. She was a Malfoy, and such blights could be easily rectified with the right amount of money. Someone was going to pay for this atrocity. She didn’t know who to blame … yet, but she was damned if she was going to just sit back and let whoever had cursed her get away with it.

She still thought of herself as Draco, the male seventeen-year-old Hogwarts student. That Draco was tall, blond, and a wet dream to any female who caught sight of his powerful muscles and flat stomach. This new version of Draco may have been a complete disappointment and insult to the name of Malfoy, but she wasn’t going to let that stop her.

With one last spiteful look at her reflection, Draco quickly dressed herself in the only clothing she had available. Draco the male fit into his clothes as if they were a second skin, but Draco the female had a hell of a time finding anything that fit correctly. She had hips now, whereas before they had been narrow, so the black silk slacks she chose at random were damn near impossible to close.

The dark green button down shirt was even more of a nightmare to put on than the slacks had been. She had no problem buttoning the bottom four buttons, but when she reached the buttons over her chest, it was a challenge. Draco yanked, she pulled, she just about ripped her expensive shirt as she tugged the fastenings closed. But that wasn’t the end to her problems. Her breasts made the fastened buttons expand to the point where she may as well have left it open and her chest exposed for all to gawk at.

But she was a pureblooded wizard, er witch, and she was going to walk out of her bedroom with her head held high and her chest pushed out. She was going to march into the family sunroom and sit down to have breakfast with as much elegance and grace as she could muster.

The first person to see her was her mother, who in Draco’s opinion, didn’t seem in the least bit surprised to find her son cum daughter, walk in and sit at the table. Draco waited a beat before clearing her throat; maybe her mother just hadn’t paid her any attention.

Narcissa looked up, stared at Draco a moment, and quickly took a sip from her teacup.

This rankled Draco, so she cleared her throat a second time. “Mother,” and Draco almost stumbled in her questioning at finding that, yes, even her voice had been changed. “You don’t seem surprised, or upset to see me as I am at the moment.” Draco leaned forward across the table. “Why?”

“Well,” Narcissa began, and seemed to have trouble looking Draco in the eye as she spoke. “I had a feeling this would happen, just not this soon.”

“I’m sorry? I don’t think I quite heard you correctly. Are you saying you knew this would happen?”

Draco had never, in her whole life seen her mother stammer or splutter, but she seemed to be doing an excellent job at the moment. She wasn’t very happy at this turn of events.

“Uh … yes?”

“Are you asking me or telling me?” Draco was getting more irritated as time went on.

An eternity seemed to pass in the small sunroom as Draco waited for her mother to reply with a definite answer. She was about to demand that her mother answer her already, when Narcissa spoke quietly. “I knew…well, your father and I, both knew this would happen--”

“And you failed to let me in on this important piece of news because …?”

“We knew you wouldn’t understand--”

“Mother,” Draco interrupted, taking a deep breath to keep herself from shouting obscenities. “What did you think would happen? I’d wake up, find that I lost my penis, but grew breasts, and be thrilled about it?”

“Well … no, of course not. Truthfully, you’re taking this a lot better than we thought you would,” Narcissa murmured.

Draco sat back in her chair and glared. Shouting at her mother wouldn’t get her anywhere. “All right, so you knew this would happen. So why is this happening to me? I’m not big on biology, but I’m pretty sure human males don’t suddenly turn into females. Did father piss off a disgruntled co-worker who felt the need to curse me?”

Narcissa took a long sip of her tea before putting the cup down, and looking up at her daughter. “You were born this way, dear. It’s a natural occurrence on your father’s side of the family.” She stumbled a moment at the incredulous stare Draco was giving her. “Haven’t you ever wondered why your father doesn’t quite act like a typical male?”

Draco nodded. She couldn’t argue with that. “So you’re saying that my father was actually born a female, but when he turned seventeen he suddenly woke up as a man?”

Narcissa nodded.

“Oh, brilliant … bloody fantastic.” Draco paused a moment, thinking. “Is this supposed natural occurrence reversible?”

Narcissa shook her head. “No, and your father scoured all the libraries he could find.”

“Brilliant.”

“Draco, just look on the bright side--”

“Which is?”

“You have me to help you with the change,” Narcissa replied with a sudden smile.

“Joy.”

***

The next few weeks went by surprisingly fast in Draco’s opinion. After the first day, Draco demanded that her mother summon a beautician to the manor to correct the imperfections. She refused to have a body that was not the epitome of the Malfoy name. Her breasts were fixed so that they were more symmetrical, and her armpits and legs had the hair permanently removed.

Narcissa had taught her as much as she could on how to live as a female. A lot of basic functions were the same, except now she had to sit to use the toilet. She found out that she had a slightly higher tolerance to pain now then she had as a boy when she’d gotten her first period. That was one thing she refused to give much thought to as she had never been one to trust anyone who could bleed for a week and not die.

Narcissa had also sent for the family tailor as Draco refused point blank to wear any clothing that was transfigured. Gone were the slim-hipped slacks and second-skin shirts. Draco now had an entire wardrobe full of brand new, tailor-made clothing to better fit her, which pleased her as she had not been keen to show her attributes to strangers, or even classmates for that matter. She also had her mother purchase brassières and knickers for her made of the finest silk money could buy.

Draco may have been prepared as well as possible for life as a woman, but she wasn’t quite equipped for her first day back to Hogwarts. Last year she had been a boy, staring at girls as they passed him in the halls. Turning a deaf ear to her two friends Crabbe and Goyle as they made asinine jokes about what the girls in their year were up to behind closed doors.

Narcissa had gone with Draco to King’s Cross, to wait with her for the train, trying and failing to cheer up her daughter. Lucius was still in Bordeaux meeting with the French Minister of Magic so he wasn’t around for Draco to glare at and accuse of not sharing this vital piece of information.

Draco crossed her arms and leaned against the trolley, remaining stoic as she tried to keep her composure as the Hogwarts Express came into view. As pissed off as she was at her mother, she still wished her mother well as she pushed her luggage trolley towards the train. She boarded and quickly found a compartment in the back, wanting to hide herself from view.

She sat, waiting impatiently for the rest of the students to board. She glowered at anyone who dared to assume they were welcomed to sit with her. She snorted as she heard footsteps coming closer to the compartment she chose, and hoped no one would ask her how her summer had been. Draco had purposely worn robes a size or two larger than her usual ones to try and hide her breasts. They might not have been overly large, but she was in no mood to discuss the sudden appearance of body parts she previously did not have.

Draco rearranged herself on the seat, leaning back, and fixed her features into their usual disinterested mask when she spotted her two friends walking towards her. She watched them open the cabin door, before ambling inside.

"'ello, Draco," Goyle greeted with a wave, taking the seat across from her. Crabbe nodded at their companion before joining him.

Draco stared at them, but kept her mouth shut. Usually she had a witty remark about their lack of fashion sense, or how Crabbe liked to eat with his mouth open, but she refused to say a word. She knew it was only a matter of time before everyone found out about her situation, and she really didn’t feel like chatting about it on the train.

Thankfully, Crabbe and Goyle were more interested in talking to each other about what they did during the summer than to Draco, so she was free to just sit back and think.

***

Draco stayed behind in the compartment as the two boys stood up and began to head out into the main area of the train. Goyle turned, frowning at Draco. “Aren’t you coming?”

Draco deepened her voice as much as possible as she replied, “I have something I need to do. I’ll catch up with you two in the Great Hall.”

She wasn’t all that worried that her two companions might have cottoned on to her changed voice--as stupid as they were--but she still hung back. As soon as the train was relatively empty, Draco stood up, smoothed her robes down and strolled out of the train. She vaguely heard that big lout Hagrid yelling for the first years as she moved towards the Thestral-drawn carriages. As her current luck would have it, the only available carriage was the one Harry-bloody-Potter and his two tag-alongs were occupying.

Draco muttered curses as she stepped up and took a seat, effectively silencing the other passengers in mid conversation. “Malfoy! What the hell are you doing?” Weasley demanded, scowling fiercely in Draco’s direction.

“Ron!” Granger chastised, slapping her boyfriend’s thigh.

“This was the only carriage I could find with room for another; I don’t want to be here anymore than you three want me here,” Draco replied coolly.

Weasley looked like he wanted to say more about their uninvited guest, but Granger’s squeezing hand still on his thigh kept him from opening his fat mouth. Draco might have felt gratitude towards the witch, if she actually liked Mudbloods, but she was trying to refrain from talking unnecessarily. She briefly looked over at her seat companion, finding Potter giving her an odd sort of look. Draco had a brief flash of panic shine in her eyes as she thought the black-haired boy had cottoned on to her transformation. She quickly reformed her features back into its usual mask of disdain and breathed silently as Potter turned back to his friends.

The ride towards the castle was uneventful after that, although Weasley kept glowering at her whenever she looked in his direction. Potter had stayed quiet during the short ride, only speaking when Granger or Weasley talked directly to him. Draco was becoming increasingly unsettled at the attention she was receiving from him.

Draco was relieved when they finally stopped in front of the castle. She quickly stepped down from the carriage and strode to the front entrance, hoping the threesome wasn’t hot on her heels. She was pretty sure they weren’t, but with the scowls and strange looks she’d been receiving, she wouldn’t be surprised if they thought she had a devious plan lurking in her mind just waiting to be sprung.

She was halfway to the entrance of the Great Hall when she heard her name being called by Professor McGonagall. “Yes, Professor?”

“Mr. Malfoy, Headmaster Dumbledore would like a word with you in his office before the Sorting begins,” McGonagall explained as she handed Draco a note. “Please be quick about it, the Sorting will begin shortly.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Draco hurried off to Dumbledore’s office, wondering what in Merlin’s name she had done to warrant the Headmaster’s attention the moment she entered the castle. She slowed her pace and stopped in front of the stone gargoyle standing sentry. She frowned at the ugly statue, wondering how in the world she was suppose to get passed; she didn’t have the password, and she wasn’t about to make an arse of herself by running around school, trying to find a teacher who might have it. She snarled in irritation and balled her hands into fists, suddenly remembering the paper when she felt it crinkle. Curious, she opened the little note and read the word written there out loud. She jumped slightly as the gargoyle rotated out of the way, leaving the passage to the Headmaster’s office free.

She took the steps two at a time, hoping she would be finished in time for at least the beginning of the year feast as she hadn’t eaten much that day. Draco stopped in front of the closed door, using the griffin knocker. “Enter.”

Draco slowly pushed the door open at the summons, keeping her face blank as she stood in front of Dumbledore’s desk quietly. She didn’t like the piercing stare she was receiving from the older wizard, as he seemed to be looking deep into her soul. It was very annoying.

“Mr. Malfoy … or should I say ‘Miss Malfoy’?”

Draco blinked, opened her mouth, and closed it when nothing came forth.

“Do not worry, Draco, I am not in the habit of telling people’s secrets. However, we must discuss new sleeping arrangements for you,” Dumbledore said, looking over his half-moon spectacles at her.

“Headmaster,” Draco growled out, “did you know this would happen to me? Because it seems just about everyone knew except me, and it’s pissing me off.”

Dumbledore sat back in his seat, a reproachful look on his face. “I had my suspicions when your father underwent the same ordeal. In his case, however, he changed his name and took to becoming a man very well, surprisingly. But I feel you may not be so fortunate.”

Draco really wasn’t in the mood to hear about her father, nor about the hand the Fates had dealt her, she just wanted to go eat, and then fall into bed. She looked up and glared when she heard Dumbledore clearing his throat.

“Miss Malfoy, were you planning to change your name? If so, we could say you’re Mr. Malfoy’s cousin and that the Draco your classmates know you as transferred to Durmstrang,” the Headmaster explained, which really didn’t make Draco feel any better.
“I’d prefer not, if you don’t mind. Besides my own, Potter and his friends recognized me right away, and I didn’t exactly deny I was who they thought.”

Dumbledore looked intently at Draco a moment. “Very well. After the welcoming feast is over, your personal items will be sent to the seventh year girls’ dormitories. Come up with whatever excuses you wish to if you are questioned.” Dumbledore rose from his seat, moving towards the door. “I suggest we make our way quickly to the Great Hall, there are new students waiting to be sorted.”

“Fine,” Draco replied with a sneer and followed.

***

The Sorting ceremony went by as it usually did every year. Each house received a fair amount of new students in their mists, no one really making waves as they were called up one-by-one alphabetically and had the hat placed on their heads.

Draco looked up from her plate, scanning the tables out of boredom than for any real reason, and noticed Potter watching her. She scowled at the black-haired boy until he turned around in his seat and went back to eating. She didn’t know why Potter kept staring, it wasn’t as if she had dyed her hair, or gained a few stones. Aside from what had obviously happened to her--obvious in her own mind--she hadn’t done anything to warrant the extra attention.

Dinner had gone by relatively slowly, friends catching up on what they did over the summer holidays, discussing what their teachers might have in store for them in their final year. Draco paid no mind to the chatter going on around her, having been bored to tears during the Sorting.

As soon as dinner was eaten, and the dishes whisked away by the house-elves, the entire student body seemed to stand as one entity and began to make their way to their respective houses. Draco found Crabbe and Goyle waiting for her, pushing first years out of their way as they walked out of the Great Hall and into the corridor.

They soon came upon the entrance to the Slytherin common room much to Draco’s relief; she was tired (though obviously not showing it), and wasn’t in the mood to sit idly by. She'd always disdained people who fretted over things they couldn’t control, and she wouldn't join their ranks. With her mask firmly in place, she and her two friends walked into the common room. It was noisier than usual (were they bloody Gryffindors?) The first-years gawked at everything in wonder and awe, and not a little bit of excited fear as they chatted enthusiastically about their first day. Like Mudbloods, she thought with a sneer. No magical child should ever react like this.

“Draco, is everything all right?” Pansy asked, seeing the mood she was in. Everyone else may have thought Draco was aloof and snobbish, and they’d be correct, but Pansy was a good friend of hers. Even if she would never have married the Slytherin girl when she’d been a boy, no matter how much Pansy’s family wanted them to, she was always someone she could talk to. Goyle and Crabbe had a tendency to grunt whenever she asked them their opinions.

Draco was annoyed that she would eventually have to tell people about what happened, let alone her housemates. It was none of their bloody business. She glowered at Pansy for a good five minutes, wondering if she’d take the hint and go away.

Pansy didn’t seem fazed by Draco’s attitude, in fact, she began talking instead. “Draco, whatever it is, you can tell me.”

“You’re being really annoying right now, Pansy. Maybe I just don’t feel like chit-chatting with you right now.”

“For Merlin’s sake, Draco. You can be so damn dense,” she huffed, placing her hands onto her hips. “You know I won’t go around gossiping.” Draco gave her a dry look. “Okay, I don’t gossip about important things.”

“Fine,” Draco finally replied. “One morning--right around my birthday--I woke up and discovered that I’d changed--”

“Changed? How?”

Draco glared at her friend. “If you’d shut your gob and let me finish, you’ll find out. Now stop interrupting.” She sighed. “I found that if I ever wanted an heir someday, that I’d be the one … carrying it.”

Pansy gave Draco a confused look. “What? I don’t understand. I thought only girls could carry children--”

“I am a girl,” Draco growled out.

Pansy stared at Draco a moment, before suddenly bursting into laughter.

“Never mind. I’ll just go talk to Blaise.”

“N-no.” She held her stomach as amusement radiated from her. “Oh, Draco, that’s a good one. Oh, Merlin, I thought you were actually serious,” she finally said, wiping tears from her eyes.

Draco sneered at her friend, thoroughly annoyed at her uncouth behavior. In a fit of temper at the display, she furiously grabbed her robes, pulling them taught across her chest, revealing her bosom. Thankfully, she and Pansy were sitting in one of the corner nooks; Draco facing the wall, so only Pansy saw her breasts. Pansy gasped loudly, mouth hanging open like a gaping fish, eyes wide and shocked. Draco quickly put her clothes to rights when Pansy reached out to touch.

Pansy spluttered a moment, seemingly over her initial shock. “Merlin! Draco, are those what I think they are?”

“If you’re thinking they’re breasts, then yes … they are.”

“But how--”

“I told you,” Draco interrupted, exasperated. “Look … I was born this way … to suddenly change my sex … and it’s bloody permanent!”

Pansy was eerily quiet for a few minutes after this outburst. “Are you sure it’s permanent?” Draco nodded stiffly. “Oh, Draco, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be insensitive. I … wait, where are you going to sleep? Surely not the boys’ dorm?”

Draco closed her eyes and leaned back against the sofa. “No,” she began quietly, “I’ll be sleeping with you lot.”

“Won’t that look odd?”

“Odd?” Draco gave her a dry look. “Besides being a bloody girl, you mean? How else would this not be odd?”

The other girl closed her eyes a moment before opening them. “I meant, Draco, that it would be obvious something was going on by the very fact that you would be allowed to even get inside the girls’ dorms.”

Draco’s eyes widened involuntarily. “I’d forgotten about that.” She didn’t fancy the “duh” look she received from her friend. “I’m going to have to tell the others, won’t I? Especially seeing as boys can’t even get close to the door without the damn thing screeching for all to hear.” Draco leaned forward, scowling at the floor.

“Well … you could always say you were cursed, and no one’s been able to find the cure as of yet?” Pansy offered helpfully.

Draco glared at her.

“I don’t see you coming up with anything spectacular,” Pansy said in a huff.

Draco shook her head. “I suppose I’ll have to use that, won’t I? What other choice do I have unless I want to sleep out here in the common room until we finish school,” she replied snappishly.

***

Despite what she may have said to Pansy, Draco was feeling very ill at ease about anyone else finding out. She might have gotten used to the idea of being a girl, but that didn’t necessarily mean she wanted to sleep in their dorm room.

She covered her mouth as a yawn broke free, reminding her that it was becoming later and later. Draco had contemplated more than once how she was going to get to her bed without the entire room wondering why she hadn’t set off the alarm that kept the boys out. Pansy had been of no further use to her once she bid Draco good night and good luck before she headed to bed herself.

Stifling a second yawn, she stood up, stretched, and moved quickly to her room so she could go to sleep. She wasn’t lying when she told Pansy she didn’t want to have to sleep in the common room. Draco felt relief flood her when she made it to the door, but it was short-lived when she heard Blaise’s questioning tone behind her.

“Draco, what are you doing?”

Damn, she thought. “I’m going to bed. What’s it to you, Zabini?”

“Okay, okay, don’t get your knickers in a twist. You do realize that’s not the boys’ dorms, don’t you?”

“I’m quite aware of that fact, thank you,” Draco replied sardonically, hand still on the doorknob.

“Right.”

Draco really hated the way Blaise drew out the syllables of words when he wasn’t buying someone’s bull.

“Have something to say to me, Zabini? Because I’m really not in the mood for your shit tonight.”

“Oh, it can wait until tomorrow. Good night.”

Draco waited a beat, but when nothing more was forthcoming, she opened the door and hurriedly went inside, catching herself from slamming the door shut. She really wasn’t in the mood to deal with her female classmates right now. She was too tired and her bed was calling her.

She quickly removed her clothes, leaving her in only her underclothes and flopped tiredly onto her bed. She’d deal with any questions or repercussions in the morning.

***

Draco hadn’t woken up in the best of moods. She was still fuming over her conversation with Blaise the previous night, knowing that she would probably face a bunch of questions as to why she’d been able to walk into the girls’ dormitory hassle-free.

She sighed loudly as she got out of bed and dressed to start the day. May as well get this over with, she thought as she walked purposefully into the common room. Draco looked around the quiet room, wondering where everyone had gone off to. She looked to the antique clock sitting on the fireplace mantle, seeing that it was time for breakfast. Feeling hungry, she walked out of the common room, heading for the Great Hall.

As she’d expected, Blaise must have said something to their classmates because when she’d entered the Great Hall, it suddenly became eerily quiet. Draco was pretty sure if a pin had been dropped at that moment, it would have been deafening. She briefly looked around the Hall, noting the barrage of looks being thrown her way. Mentally, she sighed. She really wasn’t in the mood for theatrics right now, so she blanked her features and made her way sedately to the Slytherin table.

She found an open space next to Pansy and sat down, dishing food on to her plate as she ignored the stares directed to her. Draco could feel the eyes of her classmates boring in to her as she calmly ate her breakfast.

Draco put her fork down when she felt Pansy leaning towards her ear. “It wasn’t Blaise.”

“What wasn’t Blaise?”

Pansy sighed. Draco shivered at the little puff of air in her ear. “I heard you and Blaise talking last night before bed. Draco, it wasn’t him who told everyone.”

Draco frowned and turned to look at her friend. “If it wasn’t him, who was it?” she whispered.

Pansy looked around the table a moment before turning back to murmur, “It was Tracey.”

“Davis? That little drama queen?” Draco asked, looking over to her left at the pretty brunette. “How the hell did she find out?”

“Before you walked in, she announced that she had seen you in the girls’ dorm sleeping, and all your things had been moved in. Naturally, people put two and two together.”

“Brilliant,” Draco whispered back. “I suppose it’s time to do some damage control.”

“What are you going to do?”

Draco didn’t answer; instead, she stood up from her seat, and walked confidently to the middle of the Hall. She waited until she had everyone’s attention, and began to speak. “As most of you may have found out, thanks to Davis here, I’m a girl. Before the lot of you sprains what you laughingly call a brain, I will continue,” Draco glanced at the Headmaster before turning back to her classmates, “I have always been a girl.” Draco ignored the gasps of shock. “I was pretending to be a boy all this time because my father didn’t want the Dark Lord to know. If you have any further questions … too bad. I am not here for your amusement, and I’ll kindly ask you not to look at my arse.” She finished with a condescending bow before turning and exiting the Great Hall.

***

Draco kept walking, uncaring of where she wound up. She wasn’t surprised when she spotted the lush green of the Quidditch pitch. Sighing in resignation, she made her way up the steps of the stands, not really paying attention to which House team she’d picked. As she took a seat on one of the stands, Draco noticed that she’d chosen the Gryffindor supporters’ side.

It bloody well figures.

The blonde rolled her eyes at her predicament, but shrugged it off as she didn’t feel like moving. Draco leaned back until her head was lying on the bench behind her, and closed her eyes, trying to calm herself down. She’d worked herself up as she’d been walking, berating herself over and over at how she’d made a fool of herself in front of the entire school. It was a good thing her father was still in France; she really didn’t want to hear a lecture from him on sullying the Malfoy name.

She was startled out of her thoughts when she felt movement on the bench beside her. Opening her eyes slowly, she glared at the person who had disturbed her from her self-pity.

“What do you want, Potter?” Draco snarled. “Come to make sure I really am a girl? Well, too fucking bad. I’m not out here for your groping pleasure.”

“That’s good to know, but I’m not here for that,” Potter replied simply as he turned towards her.

“Then why are you here?”

“Was out for a bit of a stroll and thought I might get some Quidditch practice in.”

Draco gave Potter a suspicious look. “Quidditch practice, hmm? Where’s your broom?”

“In my trunk,” Potter replied absently, looking out at the pitch.

“You’re barmy. Look, Potter, I’m really not in the mood for whatever it is you’re thinking of doing, so if you don’t mind--” Draco closed her eyes and leaned against the bench once more. “—I’d prefer to be left alone.”

Draco remained quiet for all of a minute before sitting up and opening her eyes to stare at her uninvited guest. “Still here, are you?”

“Well … I have a problem. See, I heard what Tracey Davis said before you came into the Great Hall. I thought she was taking the mickey on us. Then you showed up and announced to everyone that you really are a girl. So, I got to thinking--”

“I’m surprised your head didn’t explode from the effort.”

“—Malfoy is probably out there somewhere right now, feeling sorry for herself,” Potter continued as if he hadn’t been interrupted, which annoyed Draco.

“I beg your pardon!? Malfoys do not feel sorry for themselves!” Draco snarled, sarcasm dripping from each word as she shielded her eyes from the sun.

Potter ignored her. “I may not know how you feel about becoming a girl, but I do know about humiliation.”

Draco rolled her eyes. “That’s fascinating, Potter, really, but what does this have to do with--”

“Right now, I’m of the mind that you need someone to talk to.”

“Why the fucking hell would I want to talk to you? Contrary to what you and your do-gooder pals think, I do have friends. If I needed a “shoulder to cry on”, they would more than suffice,” Draco replied in irritation.. Potter either didn’t notice, or didn’t care.

“Come to Hogsmeade with me tomorrow.”

Draco closed her mouth in shock. “What?”

“Come to Hogsmeade with me, we can go to The Three Broomsticks and have a drink.”

“You’re mad. Why the hell would I want to do that?” Draco asked, perplexed. “I don’t like you, and … hang on, have you got Weasley and Granger hiding somewhere; ready to jump out and have a good laugh?” Draco stood up in anger. “Potter, I wouldn’t go anywhere with you if you were the last person in the world. Just because I’m a girl, doesn’t mean I’ve switched sides.”

Draco stormed off, fury vibrating from every pore. How dare that four-eyed freak of nature ask her out! Just because she had changed sex didn’t mean she suddenly found men attractive. Especially not Harry-bloody-Potter.

What was Potter thinking? He probably thought I’d just spread my legs and put out for anyone who showed any sympathy for me. Well, screw that! Draco Malfoy was no one’s pity fuck.

***

Draco had spent most of the weekend in the common room, reading through her school books. After what happened the previous day, she figured she was safer in the dungeons than wandering around school with the chance Potter would corner her in the corridors and try to ask her out again.

“What are you doing in here when it’s a lovely day outside?” Pansy asked, taking a seat on the sofa across from Draco.

Draco closed her copy of Advanced Potion-Making she’d been reading and looked at her friend. “I’m trying to get ahead in my reading before classes begin,” she replied.

Pansy waved her hand dismissively. “Pah! Come on,” she stood up, reaching for Draco’s hand.

“Where are we going?”

“I’m taking you out. No one should have to be cooped up when we could be out buying things,” Pansy replied, dragging Draco behind her and into the girl’s dorms.

Draco tried to remove her hand from Pansy’s, but it was no good. She never realized Pansy had such a firm grip before. Sighing in resignation, she had no choice but to follow unless she wanted a sprained wrist.

***

They had spent an hour getting ready to go out, which frustrated Draco more than anything. As a boy, she had taken care with her appearance, but it was a whole different thing when one let Pansy dress them.

Draco had watched the Slytherin girl choose and discard items from her wardrobe almost randomly. Occasionally, she’d stop, look at an item, mutter to herself, then shake her head, and start the process all over again. Draco was becoming exceedingly irritated with the way Pansy tossed her clothes aside. Her clothing wasn’t cheap, and didn’t take well to wrinkling.

“Ah-ha!” Draco jumped at the sudden exclamation. “Here we go--yes this’ll do nicely.”

Draco accepted the offered material. “It took you an hour to choose this? I usually wear this anyway,” she stated, looking down at the pair of dark-brown slacks and silver button-down she held.

“Yes, yes. But you’ve never had me to do your hair and makeup!”

Draco baulked. “What? No way. I am not wearing makeup.”

“Yes, you are.” Draco opened her mouth to respond, but Pansy cut her off. “Draco, you’re a girl now, whether you like it or not, and girls wear makeup--”

“Listen, I’ll let you dress me up like a doll, I’ll even let you drag me out to Merlin knows where, but I draw the line at makeup.” Pansy gave her a hurt look. “Pouting at me isn’t going to change my mind.”

Pansy sighed. “All right, fine, no makeup. Now will you please get dressed.”

Draco huffed in annoyance, but did as asked, going into the lavatory to change. She cringed and banged her head against the door when Pansy screeched, “Are your ears pierced?”

***

Pansy was an excellent shopper much to Draco’s surprise. Her parents were well off and spoiled their daughter fit to burst, but when it came to spending money, Pansy was very frugal and conscientious. She’d find something that caught her eye, grab the price tag, and start to lecture Draco on why the item wasn’t worth the price asked for. Draco actually found it quite amusing if time consuming.

Draco detested shopping, contrary to what her fellow classmates may have thought. She only ever did so if she absolutely had to. Which was why after the first few hours they spent going from shop to shop, she was becoming irritated with her friend. Thankfully, though, Pansy seemed to sense this and they finished their trip into Hogsmeade.

“Let’s stop at The Three Broomsticks, I need a drink,” Pansy said as she finished paying for her purchase.

“I’m really not up to it,” Draco replied, pausing outside the shop’s door. “You go ahead; I need to finish a few things before class begins anyhow.”

“Nonsense!” Pansy grabbed Draco’s arm, dragging her in the direction of the pub. “We still have time yet before we have to worry about school work--”

“Pansy--”

Pansy ignored Draco as she continued dragging the blonde behind her. “I’m thirsty and you’re coming with me. Now, stop dawdling and shift it.”

Draco rolled her eyes, but followed after her friend. She really didn’t have much choice since she could almost feel Pansy’s nails digging into the flesh of her arm.

Sooner than Draco would have liked, they came upon the tavern and entered. Pansy continued to tug on Draco until she found an empty table near the back. Draco took a seat next to her friend and leaned against the wall behind her as Pansy went up to the bar to order them drinks. She looked around vaguely, noticing a few of their classmates seated throughout, drinking and laughing with one another. Draco didn’t pay them much mind until she looked to the far right and found the one person she’d been trying to avoid by staying in the common room.

Potter.

He was sitting at a table, smiling and chatting with his two friends. Draco was hoping he wouldn’t notice her as she stood up from her seat and tried to nonchalantly sneak out. She was half way out the door when she felt a hand land lightly on her shoulder. That better be Pansy.

Turning around, she groaned when she was who it was. “Is there a reason why you’re touching me, Potter?”

“I thought you might like to sit with us and have a drink--”

“And why would I want to do that?”

“I dunno … because I’d like you to?” Potter shrugged.

Draco rolled her eyes in exasperation. “The only reason I’m here is because Pansy asked me too. I have no intentions of staying, nor do I want to have a drink with you or your mates. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m leaving.” She turned around and continued on her way out, but Potter lightly grabbed her arm to stop her.

Growling, she turned around once more, and kneed Potter in the groin, effectively releasing his hold on her. Her pace was brisk as she walked away, faintly hearing the concerned exclamations from Granger and Weasley.

***

Draco’s first class of the term was Herbology and she was looking forward to it. She had spent the last few years trying to decide what she wanted to do with herself once she finished school. Her father had wanted her to work at the Ministry of Magic, attending gatherings and working the crowds, but she found that politics just didn’t interest her much at all.

Her mother wanted her to marry and produce children so that she’d have grandchildren she could spoil, but career-wise didn’t really care what her then son, now daughter, did to make a living since she had the Malfoy fortune to keep her comfortable. Draco didn’t have the heart to spoil her mother’s dreams of grandchildren, since she didn’t want children in her life. Not anytime soon anyway.

No, she knew what she wanted to do, and while it did take her a few years to be completely sure of her decision, she realized it was the right one for her. She didn’t have to take any extra classes since what she wanted to do only required the mandatory classes everyone in school took anyway.

In her free time, she went to the library and read up on the terms and techniques used for healing. Her father might not be pleased she wanted to become a Healer, but it wasn’t Lucius’ life … it was hers.

Draco took a seat at one of the tables, pulling out her copy of One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi. She’d just opened it up to browse through it when she sensed someone behind her and looked up to find Stephen Cornfoot had taken up the seat beside her. She’d barely given him more than a glance before she felt him move closer to her, invading her personal space.

“Mind keeping to your side, Cornfoot?”

“Aw, that’s no way for a lady to act,” Stephen whispered, not moving an inch.

Draco turned and scowled at the Ravenclaw boy. “If you don’t want my foot in your arse, you’ll give me my space … and if you’d be so kind, not to talk so rudely to me.”

“So what else comes with a change in gender besides the physical? Do you find blokes attractive? Because if you do,” Stephen ran his hand up Draco’s thigh. “I could be your first.”

Closing her book, Draco smirked at Stephen before using it to slap him across the face with, knocking him out of his seat and onto the floor. “Next time, keep your wandering hands to yourself.”

“You bitch!” Stephen shouted while holding a hand to his face, causing the students who hadn’t heard the previous ruckus to turn in their seats and gawk. “You broke my nose!”

Before Draco could respond, Professor Sprout appeared between them. “What’s this then? Fighting?”

“Professor, Malfoy hit me in the face with her book!” Stephen whined, showing Sprout the blood dripping from his nose.

Sprout tsked at the mess. “I think you’d better have Madam Pomfrey take a look at that. Go on,” she said, shooing the Ravenclaw along.

Draco paid no mind to the idiot as he walked passed her. “Miss Malfoy, care to tell me why you felt the need to break Mr. Cornfoot’s nose?”

Draco didn’t think it was really anyone’s business why she did it, but she knew she could be expelled if she didn’t give some explanation. “He said something inappropriate to me. I asked him not to. He then decided to feel me up.”

Sprout’s expression turned to displeasure as Draco was telling her what happened. “Ten points from both Ravenclaw and Slytherin for fighting--”

Draco opened her mouth to protest the injustice of her house losing points, but closed it as Sprout continued. “And ten points to Slytherin for dealing with a fresh boy.”

“Thanks,” Draco whispered, hoping no one heard her.

“All right, class, let’s settle down. We have quite a bit to cover today. Please open your books to page 492.”

***

After the brief altercation with Cornfoot, who hadn’t returned, Herbology went by as it usually did. Before Draco knew it, the bell rang, signaling the end of class. She gathered up her belongings and made her way down to the dungeons for Potions. She was a bit wary since Potions was with the Gryffindors, and Potter would be there. She hadn’t seen much of the Gryffindor since that moment in The Three Broomsticks, and she wouldn’t have been surprised if Potter was none too pleased to see her.

Draco took her time walking to one of the tables. She had some time still until the class actually started, so she didn’t have to rush. She was mildly surprised to find Potter and his mates already seated. More often than not, Potter and Weasley were the next to last ones to show for class, barely making it before Snape stormed in to deduct house points from the stragglers.

She frowned as she caught Potter staring at her. It wasn’t a “you’re going down, Malfoy” look; it was more as if Potter was trying to figure her out. It would have been creepy if Draco didn’t know Potter was incapable of said creepiness. Shaking her head, Draco turned back around to face the front of the classroom just as Professor Snape came barging in, robes billowing behind him.

“Our lesson for today will be to brew Beautification potions. Since most of you--”

Draco turned in her seat to see who Snape was looking at as he spoke. Normally, she would have smirked or made a witty comment at Granger being singled out by one of Snape’s barely concealed snide remarks, but all she did was turn back around at the hurt expression on the Gryffindor’s face.

“—Need all the help you can get,” Snape finished. He turned towards the chalk board, and waved his wand, causing a list of potion ingredients to appear. “I expect the potion to be completed by the end of class. Begin.”

Draco stood up and walked briskly to the ingredients table, hoping to beat the other students to the best items. As she was gathering what she needed, she felt someone next to her, radiating body heat like a furnace. She briefly looked up and found Potter also collecting items. Draco tried to ignore his presence, continuing to get all of the parts, but she just couldn’t shake the sudden feeling that he’d rushed to the table too just to be near her.

Once Draco had all the components needed, she walked quickly back to her seat and unloaded everything on to her table. She soon made quick work of cutting and mixing the ingredients, and adding them to her cauldron. Her thoughts on Potter’s behavior were pushed to the back of her mind as she worked.

In all actuality she’d completely forgotten that the Gryffindor was in the same class—so engrossed as she was in her work—that she jumped slightly, looking behind her when she heard Granger fiercely whisper, “Harry, you’re chopping those daisy stems all wrong!”

Indeed, Potter was making quite the mess. The instructions called for quarter-inch pieces, cut at an angle; not minced stems. It appeared that Potter’s attention had been focused elsewhere as he blinked his eyes and looked down at the poor mutilated plants.

Potter looked up, giving Draco the once over before hurrying to re-cut his daisies. Draco frowned in thought and turned back to her own task at hand. I don’t know what’s going through Potter’s thick skull, but I’m not sure if I’m becoming used to the odd looks, or if I’m beginning to enjoy them.

***

Towards the end of class, Draco began packing up her school books and cleaning up her area. Students started leaving for lunch, but she chose to stay behind.

“Professor, may I speak to you?”

Snape looked up from his desk. “What is it, Draco?”

“I don’t remember if I mentioned this, but I’m planning to become a Healer when school ends--”

“I didn’t realize you were interested in the medical field,” Snape commented, folding his arms across his chest.

“Yes, sir.” Draco shifted her bag higher up her shoulder. “I’ve given it a lot of thought. I was wondering if you could recommend a decent Potions book to help with my extra studies.”

Snape stood up and walked to the bookshelf. “There are two,” he said, selecting a book. “Here,” he finished, handing the book to Draco.

“Magical Drafts and Potions?” She looked up. “What’s the other one?”

“The other is in the Restricted Section; unfortunately, you can’t check the book out, but I’ll give you permission to go into that section.”

“Thank you, sir,” Draco said as she watched Snape write out his wishes on a piece of parchment before handing it to her.

Snape nodded and walked down the aisle towards his office. Draco turned towards the door, walking out of the class, and on her way to lunch. As she made her way to the Great Hall, she heard footsteps behind her.

She paused and listened.

When she didn’t hear anything, she shook her head, mumbling to herself. It’s probably just my imagination.

Draco shrugged it off, but quickened her pace, feeling as if someone were watching her. She cried out in surprise when she accidentally ran headlong into a solid chest, sending her reeling and landing on her arse.

It took her a moment to regain her breath, the wind having been knocked out of her. She dusted herself off and turned to glare at whoever was responsible for her mishap. “I should have known it’d be you. I wasn’t impressed with you in class and this little faux pas won’t change my opinion,” Draco sneered, side-stepping around the person.

“You know, Malfoy, I’m really getting tired of your attitude--”

“Attitude? You came on to me and felt me up, what did you expect?” Draco crossed her arms, glowering at the boy standing in front of her. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have better things to do then to stand here and chat.”

Draco walked past Cornfoot, barely giving him a second look; she gasped in sudden pain at the hard grip on her arm. She was roughly spun around and punched in the face before she could get loose. Her head whipped back from the force, and stars exploded in her vision. Draco tried to keep her cool, but on the inside she was panicking. She hadn’t been a very good fighter when she’d been a boy, and she wasn’t any better now.

“Get off!” She shouted, bringing her knee up into Cornfoot’s stomach. His grip on her arm loosened enough for her to run, but she didn’t get far.

“You’ll … pay … for that!” Cornfoot gasped out, stumbling until he grabbed the back of Draco’s jumper.

Draco continued to struggle with the still-gasping Ravenclaw boy, doing everything she could to get away; her wand was in her bag, which was a few feet away.

Her world suddenly went black as her head was slammed against the wall. The last thing she heard as she slumped to the ground was her name being screamed by someone far away.

***

Draco woke up slowly, feeling woozy and nauseous as she regained consciousness. She gradually opened her eyes, and quickly closed them again as the sudden light pierced to her retinas. She took a deep breath, letting it out slowly as she tried again, happy that the light didn’t try to blind her this time.

She blinked a couple of times, bringing a hand gingerly to her eyes to wipe the tears away. The first thing she noticed was that she was no longer in the corridor, the second thing she’d noticed was the sterile smell permeating the area she found herself in. Draco looked around blearily, stopping to hold her head as a nasty migraine was forming; she must have hit her head harder than she’d thought.

She removed her hands from her forehead, and slowly looked around this time. She was in hospital, in a God-awful hospital gown, with an itchy sheet over her legs, and a hairy head resting beside her. Draco did a double take and saw that, yes, it was indeed a head, and from the look of the hair, it belonged to someone familiar.

“Oi,” Draco said, prodding the dark-haired head.

Potter snuffled and lifted his head. “Glad to see that you finally woke up.”

“Yeah … what are you doing here?”

Potter sat up and stretched his arms above his head, revealing a small patch of skin that Draco was not looking at. “I’m the one who brought you here.”

“Uh-huh. Uh … why?” Draco would have rolled her eyes at herself, but it just made her head hurt more.

“I’m no expert, but I assumed with the punch to the face and being thrown against the wall, you might need medical attention.”

Draco sighed, and levered herself into an upright position. “Has anyone ever told you your sense of humor sucks?”

“Yes. Hermione, many times.” Potter stood up. “I should let Madam Pomfrey know you’re awake. She didn’t want to give you a pain potion, she was afraid you might choke on it.” Potter turned to go when Draco grabbed his robe sleeve.

“How long was I out?”

“Only a few hours.”

Draco fingered the sleeve in her hand a moment. “Yes, well … thanks for—you know—helping me,” she said softly, relinquishing his sleeve.

Potter gave her a wink and a smile, leaving Draco alone and confused.

***

Draco stayed in hospital for two more days as Madam Pomfrey had wanted to be sure she had nothing more than a mild concussion. Potter hadn’t come by to see her again after she’d woken up, which was just as well; she still wasn’t sure what that had been all about. And how had he shown up in the nick of time to rescue her? It took Draco some time to come to the conclusion that Potter had been the one following her, using his invisibility cloak to keep himself hidden. But why was he following her? She wasn’t doing anything worthy of his attention.

I just don’t understand. Maybe I should add Legilimency to my studies, then I might know what it is Potter wants from me.

Draco was brought out of her thoughts by a loud feminine voice shrieking. “Where is she?!”

“Really, Miss Parkinson, this isn’t the place to make such a fuss. Please keep it down,” Madam Pomfrey scolded.

“Sorry.” Pansy whipped back the curtain surrounding Draco’s bed. “Are you all right, Draco?” Pansy sat on the bed next to Draco, giving her a brief hug. “What happened?”

“You never were one to make a quiet entrance, Pansy,” Draco quipped, pulling the sheet to her waist. “I ran into Cornfoot … literally.”

“Cornfoot? The extremely hot-looking Ravenclaw boy with the dreamy bedroom eyes?”

Draco stared at Pansy. “Ravenclaw, yes. Although, I wouldn’t exactly call him “hot”.”

“Well, he’s hot to me,” Pansy replied, waving off Draco’s comment. “Please continue.”

Draco sighed and rolled her eyes in exasperation at her friend. She loved Pansy like a sister, but sometimes she could be very dense. “I was on my way to the Great Hall for lunch, and ran into Cornfoot. We were verbally sparring, I suppose he didn’t take kindly to my words, and introduced my face to the wall. After that, it’s all a blank.”

“Oh, Draco, that’s just horrible!” Pansy leaned forward and gave her a hug. Draco cringed at the blatant show of emotion. “Do you know when you’ll be leaving hospital?” Pansy asked, pulling back from Draco.

“No idea. Soon I hope. I’m not exactly happy with sitting here in bed, staring up at the ceiling. I’ve counted fifty-seven cracks; they really must do something about the state of the castle.”

“Oh you are definitely feeling better if you’re able to tell bad jokes,” Pansy said. “Oh! Guess what I saw the other day.”

“What?”

“So, Millicent and I were heading out to the Quidditch pitch to watch the Gryffindor boys practice…you know how we like to watch,” she said, giving Draco a wink.

“Yes, you’ve told me about that many times. Please get to the point.”

Pansy frowned, huffing. “My point is we were watching them and Weasley missed blocking the Quaffle. It was only practice, so no big deal, right? Well, Potter completely lost it. He flew straight down the pitch, and began shouting right in Weasley’s face--”

“I’ve seen the way Weasley plays, can’t really blame Potter.”

“Be that as it may, he actually looked to be on the verge of punching Weasley--”

Draco interrupted, leaning forward. “Are you sure?”

“Of course I am, Draco, I’m not blind,” Pansy replied, offended. “Thomas and Finnigan had to pull him away. Millicent and I thought they were going to fall off their brooms with as much as Potter was struggling.”

“I saw him the other day,” Draco murmured.

Something is definitely off about Potter. First he wanted me to go with him to Hogsmeade, and then he wanted me to join him and his friends. Now, he’s taken to following me and starting fights for no reason. Is Potter attracted to me?

Draco shook her head, ignoring Pansy’s questions, too caught up in her own thoughts.
I need to have a chat with Granger and Weasley. Even if Potter fancies me, he shouldn’t be acting as he is.

***

Draco walked down the corridor in determination, on her way towards Gryffindor tower. She was finally out of hospital, thank Merlin, and she wanted to get to the bottom of Potter’s recent odd behavior. Reaching the staircases, she took the steps two at a time as she headed to the seventh floor. By the time she reached the portrait of the Fat Lady, she was slightly out of breath.

“Password?” The Fat Lady asked as Draco approached.

“I don’t have the password--”

“Sorry; no password, no admittance.”

Draco scowled. “I know that, you cow. Now, run along and fetch Granger or Weasley for me.”

The Fat Lady gave her a scandalized look before disappearing. Draco felt like an idiot standing outside, waiting for either Gryffindor to show up; if that damn portrait even went to go fetch them that is. After a couple of minutes, the frame finally swung open and Granger emerged, looking harried.

“I see you’re looking as unkempt as usual, Granger,” Draco commented, noticing the bushier than usual hair, and wrinkled clothes.

Hermione sighed. “Malfoy, did you want something or did you call me out here to insult me?”

“As fun as that would be….” Draco leaned against the railing. “Granger, you’re one of Potter’s best friends, has he been acting odd lately?”

“Odd how?” Granger asked hesitantly.

“Besides the fact he keeps following me and looks at me the way my father does my mother right before they go off to shag, I found him sitting by my hospital bed.”

Hermione crossed her arms. “He saved your life, he was probably just making sure you were all right,” she said by way of an explanation.

Draco pursed her lips. “All right, then explain to me why he went mad on the Quidditch pitch?” Hermione’s mouth dropped open and her eyes widened. “Didn’t think I’d find out? When will you Gryffindors realize that nothing gets passed me?”

“I don’t know what to tell you, Malfoy,” Hermione finally said.

“Oh come off it. You and Weasley spend just about every waking moment with Potter. I wouldn’t be surprised if you all went to the loo together.”

Draco stared at Hermione, watching as her face went through different expressions as she seemed to think. “All I can tell you is this—tomorrow night go to the southern edge of the Forbidden Forest.”

“And do what? Dance like a mooncalf?” Draco replied sardonically.

“No. Just go there and wait.”

“Wait for what?” Draco asked suspiciously, raiding an inquisitive eyebrow at the Gryffindor girl.

Hermione sighed. “It’s not my place to say. Just head there tomorrow night. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go. I was in the middle of working on my Charms essay.” Hermione turned, whispered to the Fat Lady—Draco assumed it was the password—and walked back inside the tower.

Draco crossed her arms and glared at the portrait, fuming in annoyance at the lack of information. After a moment, she turned and headed down to the dungeons.

It seems my night has been planned for me tomorrow.

***

The next night, Draco found herself along the southern outcropping of tress; she’d been standing there, looking around since an hour before sunset. She’d shaken her head and sat down on the grass, legs drawn up to her chest as she impatiently waited. What am I doing? I can’t believe I’m actually doing as Granger suggested. It’s bloody cold and my arse has gone numb. If I didn’t think it was above Granger, I’d almost believe she’d been lying to me.

Draco sighed in irritation, getting to her feet. She brushed bits of grass off her rear end as she turned to walk back to the school when a rustling noise startled her, making her pause in her step. She turned back around, curious as to what had made the sound. Cautiously, she walked toward the trees, unsure of what she was doing.

I must be out of my mind.

Draco stopped when she sensed movement coming from just ahead of her. Taking a steadying breath to calm her suddenly shaky nerves, she pushed through the dense foliage, winding her way carefully through the thick trees. Sooner than she had expected, she came upon a small clearing with a pond; the moonlight overhead shone across the area, illuminating the clearing in an ethereal light.

The Slytherin girl kept herself hidden as best as she could, trying not to draw the attention of the figure she caught bathing. The individual had a lean frame, shadowed partially by the darkness of some of the trees. Draco wanted to get a better look so she inched her way closer and barely kept herself from gasping in surprise when she finally caught a good look at who the mystery person actually was.

Potter was kneeling just inside the pond, splashing water onto his naked body. Not a bad body, could use a bit more muscle though. His wings are pretty cool—wait … wings!?

Draco’s mouth dropped open in shock. On Potter’s back, folded up against his body, were two black-leathery wings.

I doubt Potter’s an angel—not with the way he likes to break rules—and from everything I’ve read in books, neither werewolves nor vampires have wings in or out of human form, so that just leaves … Veela.

Draco shook her head, muttering to herself. She just couldn’t believe it.

Potter.

A Veela.

As if he wasn’t special enough being the Boy-Who-Lived, he wasn’t even fully human.

She watched him for a few more minutes before turning on her heel to leave. Now that she knew what was going on with Potter, she felt slightly giddy. Veela males were known for their relentless pursuit of a mate. Draco smirked as she continued walking slowly towards the school. She felt like preening.

“Hang on!” she yelled suddenly, placing her balled fists onto her hips. “Who in the name of Merlin does he think I am?” Draco picked up her pace, wanting to get as far away from Potter as she possibly could. “I don’t want some randy Veela, non-human, whatever type of thing courting me! I don’t even fancy Potter!”

***

Draco woke up early, wanting to take a walk around the grounds. She had thought about what she’d learned about what Potter was and the reason for his interest in her. As flattered as she was to have an actual Veela pursue her, she wasn’t thrilled with the fact that the Gryffindor only started noticing her once he’d found out she was now a girl.

Why am I even fretting over it? I’ve never been attracted to blokes nor Potter before my change … Draco sighed forlornly. Why am I still bothered by it?

Draco shook her head as she continued her stroll; she snorted in disdain as she found herself by the Black Lake. She shrugged and sat down, picking up a stone and tossing it into the water. She watched as ripples formed and dissipated with the action.

“Fancy seeing you here.”

Draco looked up to stare incredulously at Potter. “Are you following me? I always knew you were a stalker.”

“Maybe I am,” Potter confessed, sitting down beside the blonde. Draco frowned at her companion, sending him a steely gaze. “I know you were spying on me last night,” he said suddenly. Draco opened her mouth to deny the accusation, but Potter spoke up. “Hermione told me she sent you.”

“Did she?”

“Yeah. I knew someone had been watching me; I could sense it.” Potter leaned back on his hands. “I guess you know about me now.”

Draco rolled her eyes and turned to face the Gryffindor. “You mean that you’re a Veela?” Potter nodded, refusing to look at her. “I had my suspicions that something was off about you, but I didn’t know what. Tell me something though … why did you choose me?”

Potter started and turned to look at her. “What do you mean?”

Draco made a rude noise. “Don’t act innocent with me, Potter. You’re a male Veela, and after giving it some thought, I realized for some odd reason, known only to yourself, you’ve chosen me to be your mate.” Draco brought her legs towards her chest and looked back out at the lake. “I just want to know why.”

Potter remained quiet, laying back on the grass. Draco hoped he was trying to find the right words and wasn’t ignoring her. “I don’t know,” he finally replied, sighing. “I wasn’t born a Veela, so all these feelings and instincts are new to me.”

“Wait,” Draco said, staring in disbelief at the dark-haired boy. “The only way I know of for someone to be a Veela is by birth. If you weren’t born like this, how in Merlin’s name did you become one?”

Potter sighed, removing his glasses to rub at his eyes and replied, “Well, it all happened pretty fast really. One moment I was by the western part of the Forbidden Forrest, gathering some grubs for Hagrid to feed his Bowtruckles, the next I found myself in hospital with Ron and Hermione hovering beside my bed.”

“You were attacked?”

“Bitten and scratched,” Potter replied. “I asked Hermione if this was normal for people attacked by Veela, and she said “only if you got any of their blood in your mouth”.”

“I assume you did?”

Potter sighed. “Yes. In the scuffle I bit and kicked the Veela who turned me, getting some of his blood in my mouth.”

Draco made a face at this information. “So what now? I lie back and think of England while you have your way with me?” She asked, sneering at her companion.

“Not that I’m aware of.”

“Well that’s good, I’d hate to think that I had no choice in this matter.” Draco frowned. “Hang on, why are we talking as if I’ve decided to be your girlfriend or mate, or what have you?” She glared down at the Gryffindor. “I don’t even like you.”

Potter sat up, hugging his knees. “I’m not sure. All I know is I couldn’t stop thinking about you since before it happened. Of course it was easier to put it to the back of my mind before I was turned.” Draco gave him a dour look. “I’m serious. Even though you were a pain in my arse I still thought you were sexy.”

“You thought I was sexy?” Draco asked skeptically.

“Yeah,” Potter replied, nodding. “Still do actually.”

“And this has nothing to do with my recent sex change?”

Draco was surprised to see Potter blush. “Actually, I prefer you as a bloke, but either way it doesn’t change how I really feel. I’ve had a crush on you before my unfortunate luck, just now all these instincts are telling me to find a mate and find one soon.”

“Why?”

“I dunno. I know I’m becoming more aggressive and I’ve caught myself following you wherever you go.”

“Sounds like a stalker to me,” Draco commented, lying down on her back to stare at the clouds rolling by overhead.

“I suppose so.”

They remained quiet, Draco wondering what she should do. Potter told her she’s his chosen mate, and Veelas were known for their relentless pursuit of their chosen until either of them died or the one being pursued said they weren’t interested. Even then, though, a Veela would try everything in their power to get the person to agree. Draco wasn’t thrilled with the prospect of Potter waiting outside her common room, crooning to her like a love-sick fool. Or a tom cat in heat.

“Alright, Potter,” Draco spoke suddenly, breaking the eerie silence that had fallen between them. “If you promise not to invade my personal space every time you’re near me, or try to do anything else overly embarrassing, I’ll consent to be your mate.” Potter opened his mouth, but Draco cut him off. “I’m not finished. I’m not going to stop hanging around my mates. I know how Veelas become territorial with the one they’ve chosen. If you see me hanging around with Crabbe and Goyle, or even Blaise, I don’t want you charging in, thinking I’ve suddenly got a thing for them. Am I understood?”

Potter was silent for a long time. Draco was beginning to worry that maybe she shouldn’t have put so many restrictions on to their “dating” or whatever one would call this thing that would begin to be between them. She was about to kick him when he finally replied, “I’ll try my best. But I can’t guarantee that I won’t get possessive occasionally.” He shrugged. “Hermione says that anyone who I wind up with would have to be tough as nails to put up with my “mood swings”, as she likes to call it.”

“Smart girl.” Draco stood up. “As much as I would simply enjoy sitting out here all day and chatting about your friends and our relationship, I’ve got to go back inside. I left some school work I need to complete before tomorrow and you know how Snape gets if the essay we turn in isn’t proof read and has references all in order.”

She began walking back towards the castle when she was suddenly turned around and found herself being kissed enthusiastically, if a bit … wetly, by Potter. She stood still in shock a moment before giving in to the demanding kisses, opening her mouth to a shy tongue sliding along her lips. She closed her eyes and let herself become consumed by the inexpert passion Potter was putting into his kiss. After a moment, she pulled away, trying to catch her breath as she stared at her … boyfriend?

“I guess the essay could wait a little while longer,” she commented before grabbing the back of Potter’s head and pulling him towards her for another kiss.

Epilogue

“Harry! Harry!”

Draco looked up from her lean against Potter’s chest, watching in bemusement as Granger came running towards them. They were outside in the courtyard, leaning against one of the trees, doing some school work. Well, they were trying valiantly to do their work; they were doing more kissing than actual working at the moment.

“What is it, Hermione? Is everything okay?” Potter asked; concern evident on his face.

Granger caught her breath and smiled widely at Draco and Potter. Draco raised an eyebrow at her expression. “Harry, do you remember when you and Malfoy came to see me about trying to find a cure for Malfoy’s transformation?” At Potter’s nod, she smiled. “Good. Okay, I spent the last three months scouring the library, including the Restricted Section trying to find something that would change Malfoy back into a male.” She paused and almost seemed to vibrate with excitement. “I found the book!”

Draco sat up suddenly. “You did? Our school has books on sex changes? Hmm, I wonder why my father never found it.”

“Ever think that maybe, just maybe, he actually liked being a male?” Potter asked cheekily, smiling widely at his scowling girlfriend.

“Oh, shut up, Potter. Please tell us the name of this hither-to unknown book,” Draco said, crossing her arms.

“The name of the book is Mutatio Generis Hominibus Ignariis.”

“Alright, and this means what?” Draco asked impatiently, staring up at the brown haired girl.

“Loosely translated it means “Change of the gender for the clueless”.”

“I feel clueless right now,” Draco said quietly. “Well, fine, great. When can we start so I get my favorite body part back?”

“Well … it takes a year to brew the potion.”

“A year!?” Draco shouted. “Why the bloody hell does it take so long to make?”

“I think it has to do with the fact that the brewer has time to decide, while they’re making it, if they really want to change their sex or not,” Hermione explained.

“Wonderful.” Draco sat back down, and leaned back against Potter. “Please begin as soon as possible. I really want my original body back, thanks.”

Hermione nodded and walked off, muttering to herself as she went. Draco smirked at her retreating back, sighing as she felt gangly arms encircling her waist. “I’m glad she found that book,” Potter whispered into Draco’s ear. “I’ve been waiting ages to have the normal you back.”

Draco shivered as she felt him nuzzle her neck. “Me too. Being a girl has some advantages, but I really do miss my penis.”

Potter laughed long and loud into her neck as he continued to cuddle her.

End.