The Disappearance of Draco Malfoy

THE DISAPPEARANCE OF DRACO MALFOY

Molly Weasley was attempting to twist holly branches into a wreath. The limbs snapped and wouldn't bend, so she put them in the bucket to the right of her, which contained water and had a Warming Charm on it. She gathered from the basket on her left Ron's almost-finished jumper, a pair of wooden knitting needles, and a skein of golden yarn. She began knitting the left cuff when the screeching sound of rubber resonated into the house.

She cursed softly. "Stupid gnomes. Bet they've gotten hold of the wheelbarrow again." She walked to the door and saw the Ford Anglia hurtling toward her. Grabbing the first thing she could find--Ginny's old Muggle roller skate--she flung it at the windshield. The car deftly dodged it, made a smooth pull up to her, and honked brightly.

"Oh, so you're not trying to kill me, then," she said to the car.

The Anglia shuddered with the thought.

"Well, welcome back for Christmas," she said. "I'll tell Arthur you're here when he gets home." She glanced at the clock that held Mr. Weasley's hand above "work." "You can help up tote all the people home for Christmas!" she said brightly. "Wouldn't you like that?"

If the car could have given an affirmative answer, it would have.

     ****

     "Draco Malfoy's missing?" Hermione said, sipping butterbeer in a mug in the Gryffindor common room as she flipped through an impossibly heavy textbook.

"Yes, and it's most mysterious," Ron said. "No one know's where he is at all. Serves the little git right, though."

Harry stared at the flames as if they were planning a secret attack on him, remaining silent. Hermione turned to him, slightly confused. "Aren't you going to chime in?" she asked.

"What?" Harry replied.

Hermione grunted, uttered something insulting, and tried to stare at the fire. But then she found herself staring at Ron. It must be because of his red hair, she thought.

"At least Malfoy's not going to be here this Christmas!" Ron said.

"Ron, we're not staying at Hogwarts this time," Harry corrected.

"Oh, right," Ron said.

The twins suddenly burst into the room, utterly out-of-control with a pair of garden shears. The shears were cutting into everything: posters on the wall, first-years' hats, and finally, solidly through Harry's hair. Harry found himself halfway bald.

"Sorry," George said.

"Yeah, that's too bad," Fred said.

"Oh, well," they said in unison, and left the room, the shears buzzing around like a horsefly.

Ron bellowed with laughter. Hermione started crying. Ron glanced at Hermione, abruptly stopped laughing, and started crying as well. Harry yelled, "Shut up, the both of you!"

The pair immediately ceased their tears.

Harry gathered his hair in a pile, leaving it on the floor by the fireplace. Hermione gave him a sudden stiff stare. "Why in the name of grace are you leaving your hair on the floor?" she accused.

"Some house-elf will pick it up, I'm sure," Ron said offhandedly.

Hermione flung herself on Ron, flailing him with punches. They rolled around on the floor, Hermione biting, scratching, and hissing like a cat. After about ten minutes, she stalked off, leaving Ron and Harry in the common room.

"You okay, Ron?" Harry said, nudging the pile of hair with his foot.

"I quite liked it," Ron mumbled.

"What?" Harry screeched.

"Nothing," Ron replied.

The boys walked the stairway to their dormitory. There they found Seamus and Dean chatting on Dean's bed. The chatting ended and a voracious snogging attack began.

"Hey, Seamus," Harry said.

Seamus looked up and let Dean fall out of his arms onto the bed with a soft whump. "Your hair's gone!" Seamus squealed.

"Yes," Harry said.

"Hee, hee," Seamus giggled. "Hairless Potter." Dean and Seamus began their snogging attack again as Neville walked in, blushing crimson and quite befuddled.

"Harry!" Neville said. "I just saw you in the hallway!"

"I wasn't in the hallway," Harry said.

"What happened to your hair?" Neville asked.

"Bet Malfoy has something to do with it," Ron grumbled.

"Ron," Harry chided, quite like Hermione, "you were there."

"Oh, yeah," Ron said.

"I'm so confused," Neville said.

"So am I!" Ron declared.

     **** The next morning Hermione was spooning oatmeal into Ron's mouth. He's constantly hungry, she thought. She then touched her hair because she couldn't see it from behind.

Harry was lamenting his own personal lack of hair by tearing into bacon sandwiches. He glanced up when a big, lurking shadow came behind him.

"Hello, Hagrid," Hermione said, spoon halfway to Ron's mouth. She dropped it into his lap in shock. "What happened to your beard?"

Hagrid stroked his lack of bushiness. Without his signature facial hair, he was actually quite handsome. Harry was considering this as Hagrid said, "Got on the wrong end of those twins' gardening shears."

"Haven't we all," Harry sighed, wolfing down another sandwich.

Seamus sat down next to Harry. "Morning, Hairless!"

     **** Harry was in the Gryffindor common room, yet again contemplating the state of his hair, when Ron and Hermione both burst through the portrait.

"I'm going to kill Malfoy!" Ron said. He paused, thinking. "Well, I'm going to kill him in an hour, at least!"

Hermione straddled between smirking, making fun of Ron, and being stonily serious. She chose the second. "Ron, you never make sense, even when you think about what you say--"

"Harry," Ron interrupted. "You've got to come with us."

The three of them left, frustrating the Fat Lady with their inability to do anything but burst in and out of her opening, but no one really cared. Standing in the corridor was an exact replica of Harry Potter, only with a good head of hair.

"Hello, Potter," Malfoy snarled, through Harry's lips.

"Draco? What the hell are you doing?" Harry gasped.

"What does it look like, Potter?"

"Bloody hell!" cried Ron.

"Shut up, Ron," said Hermione.

Neville again chose that exact moment to walk by. He glanced at hairless-Harry, then at hairy-Harry, and then proceeded to pass out.

"Why do you look like me, Malfoy?" Harry chirruped, quite disturbed by the whole turn of events.

"Polyjuice Potion, you blunt-head," Malfoy said.

"Why are you Polyjuicing yourself to look like me?" Harry asked.

Malfoy quailed. He didn't really have a decent reason. He'd thought it would confuse Harry into telling Draco that he loved him. As an afterthought, this plan really wasn't top notch. He decided to make Potter feel like he was the stupid one.

"Isn't it obvious, Potter?" Malfoy said.

"No," Harry said.

"Fine!" Malfoy cried. "If you don't know, I'm not going to tell you." He simpered into a huff and started walking away.

"Wait a minute, Malfoy," Ron said. "You've been missing for about a week. Where've you been getting Harry's hair?"

Draco said cooly, "That old house-elf of mine was carrying out a big chunk of it last night. I promptly took it from him."

"I said a week, Malfoy. That happened last night," Ron explained.

Draco did not want to add that he had been going up to the laundry for a week and picking stray hairs off of Potter's clothing, so, to confuse the Weasel, he said, "Isn't is obvious, Weasley?"

Ron became terribly bewildered.

Hermione sensed the sexual tension between Harry and Draco immediately. She wondered if she should comment on it. She didn't want to seem like a know-it-all, but she barged on in and said, "Harry, I think Draco fancies you!"

"Shut up, Mudblood!" he said, whipping out the offensive phrase for the thirty-seventh time in two hours, which completely diminished its affect for everyone except Ron Weasley. Feeling that if he came to Hermione's defense he would look worthy in her eyes, he immediately punched Malfoy-Harry in the jaw.

"Hey!" Harry said.

"You'll pay, you Mudblood-lover!" Draco shouted.

Hermione screamed. Everyone stared at her. "I'll make things right," she said. "Here, Ron. Let's go off and have a good calming snog. Harry and Draco, do whatever you want to do. Ron and I are leaving."

Harry looked at himself with apprehension.

"It'll wear off in a hour, right?" Harry asked.

"I hope so," Malfoy said.

Harry then took Malfoy in hand. Neville woke up, saw the pair, and passed out again, thinking briefly that he seriously needed to get some glasses that guarded against double-vision.

     **** Molly Weasley grinned at the line-up of people coming to her house for the holidays. She was so happy that Ron had made such good friends. She helped load all the trunks into the Anglia, who flashed its headlights in greeting at Ron and Harry, when she noticed that Hedwig wasn't among the parcels.

"Where's your owl, Harry?" Mrs. Weasley said.

"Away on a delivery. A Christmas present," he replied.

"To whom? Your girlfriend?" she asked slyly.

"You could say that," said Hermione, who knew perfectly well that the owl was heading toward Draco Malfoy.

Ron sniggered. Harry let out a short laugh. The twins managed to pack their garden shears into the car without getting killed. Everyone settled in as the car started its journey to Ottery St. Catchpole.