Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter
Hermione stared first at Dumbledore, then Malfoy, then back at Dumbledore.
Then at Malfoy.
He was calm.
He arched his eyebrow at Dumbledore. "My father will never allow this."
"Ha!" Professor Flitwick laughed, perched atop Snape's desk. "You think that we would tell your father about this?"
Malfoy got a bit paler, but still had his nose stuck in the air. "You'd better."
"Silly boy," Snape tutted. "You may be Head Boy, but you know absolutely nothing."
"You were the one who vouched for him to be Head Boy in the first place, Severus," Sprout said.
"Better him than Potter. Or Weasley." He shuddered. "And no one really considered the other two candidates."
Hermione's head was surprisingly clear, probably because it really hadn't sunk in yet. "I….have to look after all of them?"
"Well, yes, with the help of Draco here." Dumbledore poked him lightly in the shoulder. "Mister Malfoy? Are you okay?"
He was white now, an unnatural colour for a human. Giving a final, maniacal look at Hermione, his eyes rolled back, and he fell to the floor in a dead faint.
McGonagall instinctively bent over as he crashed to the ground, disturbing Snape's slimy jarred things. It was a good thing she did, for just as she knelt, a very purple gooey one teetered dangerously over, and smashed on the floor.
Hermione ducked, and narrowly avoided getting hit with a wave of violet sludge. When she was sure the coast was clear, she looked up, and shrieked.
Snape was standing there, along with the other four teachers, covered in large, oozing boils. What was even worse though, was Malfoy, who was unrecognizably disfigured.
"Oh my…." Snape jumped over to his desk, and began to rummage around his drawers. A few moments passed, filled with awkward silence, before he finally pulled out an old-fashioned spray bottle. A few squirts, and everyone, including the unconscious Malfoy, was cured.
Dumbledore said a quick spell, and the little ferret jumped up, good as new. Stupid idiot. Hermione gave him a glare that could melt ice, and he returned it with a vengeance.
"Pardon my French, but this is the most fucked up thing that I have ever heard," he spat, glaring especially at Snape. "My father would not be pleased."
"Little Papa's boy can't do anything without Daddy's consent, can he?" she mocked. "Papa's boy needs Daddy to hold his hand for him, and make him breakfast, doesn't he?"
Malfoy turned pink. "Least I can afford to have breakfast, Granger. You must be afraid of leaving your poor pet Weasel alone for a while. I heard he nearly starved when you had that flu for the week, is that true?"
"You and I both know that was no flu Malfoy," she muttered. Stupid Malfoy's petty pranks. The teachers stood by, watching, mostly amused. After all, they had nothing better to do.
"Granger has to look after her widdle weasley Wonniekins, isn't that right? Poor widdle Wonniekins, all by himself. ACK!"
Hermione had rushed forward, hand raised, ready to slap his little pointy face right off.
She looked over at Dumbldore, who had suddenly stood. "I am sorry to interrupt your fun, but we must get down to business. Mister Malfoy, if you would please untangle yourself from Professor Snape's robes."
Hermione looked over, and stifled a giggle when she saw Malfoy's face peeking out from behind the Potion's Master, who swatted at him angrily.
Dumbldore handed Hermione a small roll of parchment, and a black leather envelope. "Inside, you will find 39,847 Euros, roughly ten thousand Galleons." She gasped. "This is the map to your home, and special things you must know for living there."
Malfoy examined his nails. Hermione gave him a distasteful look, and asked," When do we start?"
"Excellent!" Dumbledore clapped, and smiled happily at the other staff members, who grinned half-heartedly in return. "Mister Malfoy, do you agree to it as well?"
He was about to reply in the negative, and give Granger a chance to be a single mum.
"Little Papa's boy can't do anything without Daddy's consent, can he? Papa's boy needs Daddy to hold his hand for him, and make him breakfast, doesn't he?"
"Of course," he growled. Snape and McGonagall both gave little strangled chokes, and Flitwick fell off of his perch, only to be caught in time by Sprout. "Let's do it."
He grabbed his potion, and without consent, downed the entire vial of it. Hermione, not to be outdone by a ferret, gulped hers down as well, and both proceeded to feel the unpleasant sensations of having your body widen and re-arrange itself in a matter of seconds.
You know that feeling, the lurching your body goes through, right before throwing up? Well, imagine that, only without the throwing up part, and in rapid succession. Hermione could feel her bones thicken and harden, and her hips widen. She looked at her hands, and saw her nails lengthen to an inhuman length, and when she reached up to her hair, she felt that it was soft, and not the least bit bushy, though almost down to her feet. Her skin was flaking off, and her clothes were ripping right where the extra fat or and muscle was manifesting itself.
Malfoy, on the other hand, felt his face suck into itself, and become, if possible, more lean and chiseled than before. His hair was growing too, but not just on his head. His facial hair, which was normally unnoticeable, had grown down to his chest. He felt himself sprout up another two inches, and his shoes began to feel a bit tight.
Then, it stopped.
Dumbledore giggled gleefully, and announced, "Welcome to the ripe old age of 27!"
The Heads of House were gaping, shell shocked.
Malfoy said his prayers, then turned around to face Granger. His jaw dropped.
An: at press time, the exchange was 1USD= 3s and 15k or 1G= 4USD and 82 cents
No, this isn't a Hermione-With-curves fic. She will have curves, but Malfoy won't notice 'em until later. He might not notice them at all, because I have decided to try my hand at Wimp!Draco from the 3rd HP movie.
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