Mother May I


Disclaimer: Not mine

Two weeks into sixth year, when Draco Malfoy finally deigned to show up, he was very quiet, one Harry Potter noticed. With his best friends dating, he had a lot of time for rival watching. Several times, he could have sworn the blond flickered, and behind the flicker was wearing something of a different colour, or long around his legs, or different facial colouring, or a glimpse of long, blonde, curled hair. Very rarely, the flicker was stronger and he thought he saw--something at his rival's wrists and ankles.

Spurred on by his curiosity, he learned to get his assignments done quickly, but still well enough that his friends believed that he'd spent all his spare time in the library. Some of the time he did actually spend in the library, but he was researching glamour and illusion spells. The rest he spent following Malfoy, watching the other boy carefully, trying to see behind the flicker. For some reason, he didn't want to tell anyone what he had seen and was doing.

The upside was that his grades shot up. The downside was that he no longer wanted to humiliate his rival but instead wanted to understand. So he learned the counters to the charms he thought the blonde used and waited for a good opportunity.

Such an opportunity presented itself on Halloween. Malfoy left the feast early and walked up to the Astronomy Tower by himself.

Harry quickly grabbed his invisibility cloak, which he'd taken to carrying with him. He locked the door to the room his rival was sitting in so he could get his explanation without interruption, and still invisible, he whispered the counters to the glamour. Even though he'd been expecting it, he still stared as his rival was revealed. The blond hair fell in soft curls to the Slytherin's waist, framing a face that was expertly and subtly made up to look feminine. The dress was dove-grey silk, the skirts long and full, bodice laced tightly enough that the boy couldn't slouch. There was the faintest hint of breasts under the bodice, and his waist was narrowed, rounding his hips and arse.

The painted lips twisted into a grimace. "Hello, Potter."

"Hello, Malfoy." Harry removed the cloak. "How did you know it was me?"

"You and the Headmaster are the only ones in the school powerful enough to see through my illusions." He turned back to the window.

"Aren't you going to say anything?"

"What can I say? I'm surprised you broke the spells here instead of in the Great Hall, but I assume you're going to blackmail me instead. If so, you'll tell me what you want when you're ready."

"So you're just going to let me blackmail you, if that's what I want?"

"Let you? Merlin, Potter, you act like I have a say. I'm just a puppet, a pawn, something to be used. Now you're one of the people who hold my strings." He looked up, scowling bitterly. "Why do you think I was so angry with you when you got my father sent to Azkaban?"

"This happened because Lucius is in Azkaban?"

"Yes. Do you want the whole story?" The look on Malfoy's face made it clear that he was thinking, "Will you go away if I tell you?"

"If you'll tell it."

Malfoy sighed and straightened his skirts. "Sit down. This may take a while."

Harry obeyed, looking surprised.

"It started with my parents. My mother wanted a daughter, someone she could dress up, and show off, and sell to the highest bidder in marriage. She tried to mould me into that several times when my father was gone for a few days, when I was younger. My father wanted an heir. Me. As the master of the house, he got his way. Now, with my father gone, I'm in my mother's control. She is giving me half a year to adjust to the clothing, another half a year to adjust after she changes me physically. During that year, I can wear illusions. After, she'll start negotiating a good marriage for me. She wants a large bride price to be paid to her, and she wants someone she can control running the Manor, so even after my father is out of the way, she retains control. She has, apparently, already had several good offers for the hand of a female Malfoy heir, despite the fact that most people don't know yet."

"You aren't going to fight her?"

"What choice do I have, Potter? I have so many difficulties with everyone right now. With the Ministry because of my father. With the school because of my own actions last year. I have no where to go, no one to run to."

"I don't like Dumbledore very much at the moment, but he would help you . . ."

"Dumbledore gave me a private room and a pat on the head. He also sees through my illusions, though he isn't rude enough to break them without my permission. I dress like this everyday. I've spoken to him. He knows what's happening. He won't do anything."

"I don't believe that," Harry said firmly. "Dumbledore wouldn't do that. Go talk to him again tomorrow. Tell him exactly what's going to happen. Tell him you don't want to be a girl. Unless you do?"

"No. I'm not harbouring transsexual tendencies." He stood, straightened his skirts, and sat again, trying to hide the fact that he was fidgeting. "I'll go, but it won't do any good."

"I'm sure it will, Malfoy." Harry stared at the Slytherin. "If you're still a boy, why do you almost have a-a chest?"

Malfoy's cheeks were tinted red. "It's called a corset."

"Like girls stuff their chests?"

"No, you idiot. Why can't you just tell me what you want and leave? It retrains my figure. It gives me a narrower waist, slight breasts, a rounder bottom, and more noticeable hips. I had to learn very quickly to breathe shallowly and not do anything strenuous. It keeps me from moving around a lot. If I sit quietly, it doesn't pull."


Malfoy stood, lifted his skirts on one side to show the straps that hooked his stockings to his corset, and bent over, showing Harry how the straps rubbed against his skin and pulled at both corset and stockings- and giving a hint of knickers. He caught Harry looking and dropped his skirts quickly, blushing. "Satisfied?"

"Yes. Did you do that to your face yourself?"

The Slytherin straightened his skirts and sat back down, breathing in short, sharp gasps. He was quiet for a moment, catching his breath. "Yes," he answered finally. "It's make-up."

Harry shuddered. "You do all that everyday?"

"I do my face everyday, yes. I also take care of my hair, since my mother spelled it long. I have to curl it everyday, too. I do all that after I put on my dress. Would you like the details of my hygiene?" he snapped, making it very clear he thought the Gryffindor was getting off on it.

Said Gryffindor looked embarrassed but stubborn.

Malfoy scowled. "I get up earlier than anyone else in Slytherin so that they don't catch me getting ready. I take a shower every morning, shave my legs and armpits and face- wash, shampoo and condition my hair, get out, dry off, use lotion on my body, and dry my hair. I put on knickers and a brassiere, since my mother wants me to get used to how girls' underwear feels on top of everything else feminine. Next come hose, petticoats, a shift, my corset, and my dress. I generally don't put on my shoes until right before I leave my room, as high heels aren't terribly comfortable. After I'm dressed, I curl my hair. After it's curled, I brush it. Depending on the day and what dress I'm wearing, I put a ribbon in it or pull it back. When my hair's done, I brush my teeth, wash my face again, and put on my make-up. My make-up consists of lipstick, blush, eye shadow, mascara, and eyeliner. When my make-up is on to my satisfaction, I put on perfume, which is identical to Pansy's because I can't hide it. I check my appearance one last time before putting on my shoes. Finally, I can cast the glamours."

"Y-you wear girls' underwear?"

"Yes, Potter."

"But--you're a boy!"

Malfoy flushed. "Brilliant observation. I don't have a choice."

"And you shave your legs?"

The Slytherin nodded curtly.

"And wear dresses like that every day?"

"Potter, are you deaf? Yes!"

"Isn't that uncomfortable?"

The Slytherin shrugged awkwardly. "You get used to it. Except for the shoes, really."

"I-all right. Thank you for telling me."

"I didn't have much of a choice."

Harry grimaced. "Thank you anyway. You will go see Dumbledore tomorrow?"

"Yes, I will. Are you finished with me?"

Harry shrugged.

Malfoy stood up, running his hands down his dress to straighten the wrinkles. "Good. May I recast my glamours? They won't affect you any longer."

"I'm not stopping you, Malfoy."

Harry watched with interest as his rival muttered several incantations that he recognised from his studying. The Slytherin shimmered briefly, and for a second, Harry saw the boy as he had looked before. When the charms were finished, however, Malfoy remained exactly as he had appeared before the glamours had been recast. "Are you sure they worked?"

"I'm positive. I told you they wouldn't work on you anymore. You know what I look like underneath them. Congratulations Potter; you'll get to see me in dresses for the rest of the year." The blonde swept out, moving as quickly as he could in the uncomfortable high heels and tight corset.

Harry was quiet for the next few days. Two days after the conversation in the tower, he received a note from his rival, delivered by school owl. "Potter. I spoke with Dumbledore. I did not mention that you'd sent me, as it seemed counter productive. The old man said there was nothing he could do, as predicted. Until I turn seventeen, I'm in my mother's power. If she wants to turn me into a girl, it's her prerogative. I've also been ordered to stay strictly away from you. Are you satisfied? -DM"

Harry looked across the Hall at his rival. The blonde was dressed in pink that day, and it continued to surprise the Gryffindor that no one else noticed and stared. Grey eyes met his calmly, and Harry shook his head.

They tried to meet up several times within the next few weeks, but were unable to. Things kept getting in the way. Harry half thought that Malfoy was sabotaging the meetings, but then he looked, and the blonde was as desperate as he was. Then Malfoy disappeared from school for three days. When he returned, he avoided Harry, but the Gryffindor again managed to follow him, this time out around the lake. In the semi-darkness, he couldn't quite see the blonde and managed to cause a collision when Malfoy stopped abruptly.

"Hello, Potter," Malfoy said curtly. "Why is it that you always show up exactly when I don't want to see anyone? My mother kept an eye on me the entire time I was home. This is the first time I've had any time to myself. Couldn't you at least give me a little time to mourn?"


The Slytherin turned.

"Oh," Harry whispered. "No wonder you've been avoiding me." He stared at Malfoy, in the navy blue dress, low-collared enough to reveal the milky swell of breasts, full ones, not just the hints his corset had given him. "Is it-complete?"

"Yes, I'm completely female now, Potter."

"It's been six months? I thought she started it . . ."

"No, Potter, you didn't think. My mother had me all summer. She started this in June. Your precious Dumbledore did nothing to stop it."

"I-I don't understand why he let this happen. I can't believe it. She really. . ? M-may I see, please?" Harry stuttered.

"You want me to undress? Out here? In the cold? In front of you?"

Harry blushed. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked that."

The Slytherin grimaced. "No, it's all right. Merlin knows I understand it's hard to believe without seeing it. Just, can we go inside where it's a bit warmer?"

"Sure-sure, of course."

"We should take your cloak. I'm not allowed to talk to you, remember?"

"Are you going to stop, then?" Harry asked, swinging the cloak around both of them.

"I told you, Potter; I'm a puppet with too many people holding my strings. You hold more strings than Dumbledore does. I'll obey you before I obey him."

Malfoy slipped off his cloak and began unlacing his dress. When it was loose enough, he pulled it off over his head, revealing his petticoats and shift, which were the next things to come off. He was left in his corset, panties, and bra, and stockings. He unhooked the short straps from his stockings and pulled them off. "I'd prefer not to take off my corset. It's uncomfortable to get back on."

"That's fine," the Gryffindor muttered, staring at his rival in astonishment. "Your mother did this to you?" he added as the blonde removed the panties.

"Yes. I told you I was completely female now. You didn't believe me."

Harry reached out and touched the blonde's chest, pulling back abruptly and blushing at the feeling of the breast under his hand. "Sorry," he said, looking away.

The Slytherin had jumped at the contact, resisting the urge to cry out in surprise, having to lock his knees to stay upright. The touch had felt-pleasant. He hurriedly began to dress again, blushing as fiercely as his ex-rival. "What now?" he asked reluctantly, settling one of the armchairs in front of the fire, carefully settling his skirts around him.

Harry took the other armchair. "I'm really, really sorry, Malfoy . . ."



"I don't let people touch me there who won't call me by my first name."

"Draco, I'm sorry."

The Slytherin chuckled. He couldn't help it. "Potter, are you a virgin?"

"No! Well, um," the Gryffindor blushed. "Yes."

"Well, stop bloody apologising. I'll forgive you if you use my given name. I have no desire to be reminded of my family right now."

"O-of course. Right. I still can't believe Dumbledore let this happen to you. I mean, he's been really hard on me, but I'm . . ."

"Get over it. Dumbledore is a manipulative old fool. Don't you want to know why I was forbidden to talk to you?"

"How would you know?"

"I spoke to Snape after I talked to Dumbledore. He couldn't get me out of this either, but at least he explained what the Old Fool was up to."

"Will you tell me?"

Draco fussed with his skirts uneasily. "You won't like it, and you won't want to believe me. I swear that I will not lie to you. Snape told me that you had a-well, a bad summer with your relatives. Dumbledore was going to let this happen to me, wait a few months until my mother starts offering me up for marriage, and have me taken away from her for child abuse. He was going to use me to show you that I had it worse than you. And the Order got me out of such a bad situation. He was going to use this to help convince you to stay on his side."

"But he didn't! He left you in that situation to be turned into a girl!"

"That's why I wasn't supposed to talk to you. You weren't supposed to know that."

"What does it matter now? I killed Voldemort over the summer!" Harry stood and paced across the room. "I thought I was finally free of this mess."

"The Order has certain objectives that they have yet to meet. They've been working on it since you killed the Dark Lord. In order to fulfil those objectives, they can't lose control of their Golden Boy."

Harry threw himself down in his chair. "How does your mother keep you obedient?"

Draco sighed and broke the glamours. He muttered a few more phrases, ones that Harry hadn't stumbled across in the library, implying Dark Magic. At his wrists and ankles, manacles appeared. "I wear these all the time, but mostly they don't affect me. My mother has keyed them to force me to obey my routine everyday, to wear my dresses and corsets, to properly take care of myself as a girl. If I don't, these appear. They're heavy and awkward and I'd rather not be seen in them. Not to mention how difficult they'd make classes. If I make a little mistake, just carelessness, I can fix it quickly. If I make a big mistake, my mother or someone else who knows has to come and rectify it for me. I made those over the summer, thank goodness. It'd be horribly awkward here."

"What did she plan to do with them when she married you off?"

"Turn the way of working them over to my husband."

Harry smiled coldly. "Draco, how much would you give to get out of your Mother's and Dumbledore's power? I'm getting rather tired of playing their games myself."

The blonde looked up, hopeful for once. "I would give anything, Harry."

"You'd have to keep dressing as you do, and you couldn't use the glamours. We'd have to be able to prove exactly how manipulative both sides are."

"I don't care! Let me be something other than a damned puppet, and I'll wear as many pretty dresses as you want. You can't change me back from a girl anyway. It's dark transfiguration, irreversible."

"Would you be willing to be my wife?"

The blonde gasped. "You'd let me, Draco Malfoy, be your spouse? I'd be the wife of the most powerful wizard in Britain. I don't care if I'm the wife, that's power I never dreamed of."

"Good. Take me to the Manor. I'll work it out with your mother. We'll have to keep it hidden from Dumbledore for a little while, until we have more solid plans and followers, but you and I can rule this world."

So it came to be that Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy were married in secret on the night of December fifth, a month and a day before the wizarding world felt the rise of a new power, neither light nor dark but fair, and more powerful than any that had come before.