The Feud

Hermione nibbled at her lips as she studied the parchment before her. It was the most complex potion, besides the Polyjuice, that she had ever attempted to make before, and the fact that she was making it 'illegally' in Snape's dungeon compounded the difficulty. "How can I add the Unicorn hair, the Dragonsblood and the stoat all at the same time? I haven't three hands!" She blew upwards in frustration causing her bushy hair to shift slightly over her amber eyes.

She had balanced the stoat on the edge of the cauldron and held both the Unicorn hair and the beaker of Dragonsblood in her hands, the heel of her palm resting on the back of the stoat. She pulled her bottom lip through her teeth and abruptly released it with another gust of breath. "Okay," she murmured to herself, "here it goes. One, two." She heard the patter of footsteps, that of two people if she wasn't mistaken, and it sounded rather like they were headed for the potions room. She froze.

The footsteps grew closer and she heard a pair of voices speaking in cacophony. "But Professor Snape! You know who my father is." The first voice was definitely masculine and petulant. "Draco, do you think I care who your father is? You messed up big this time. Detention is definitely in order." Draco interjected, "but it's not fair Professor." "Life isn't particularly fair now is it? 20 points from Slytherin for being argumentative. You can consider this conversation over." The heavier set of footsteps continued and Hermione unfroze at the imminent danger.

"Shit," she swore, retracting her ingredients from where they were poised over the pewter cauldron. She hurriedly grabbed up her ingredients and stuffed them into the desk that her experiment was on. She picked up the glass bottle that she was using to store the experiment in and a funnel. She picked up the cauldron, prepared to tip in all of the bubbling liquid. "Damn!" she swore again loudly, the hot pewter had burnt her fingers through the dragons hide gloves that she wore. She heard the creaking of a rusty key in the potions room door and grew desperate.

She quickly juggled the bottle, the funnel and the cauldron and shut the fire on her burner. She ducked her body under the desk, breathing hard. The hinges on the door grated awfully, flakes of oxidized metal falling on the floor. She quickly inhaled and began to hold her breath. Her gloves slipped into the potion she was carrying by accident. Her surprised expression was almost comical as she wove her burnt finger about in the air. She quickly sucked it off, the dark recesses of her mouth providing to be a salve to her wounded finger.

Professor Snape swept in slowly, first his beaky nose becoming visible, then his sallow face and last his dark cape that settled around his legs in swirls. The bane of her existence puffed in after him, his cheeks pink with exertion.

I guess mocking people and doing Pansy aren't exerting enough for him, she thought. But he does look pretty hot in a smarmy sort of way...She quickly shook her head as if to remove the errant thought. "Professor Snape, it was a total accident! I never meant to demean you in any way!" "The fact remains that you did demean me,"

Snape's voice resonated in the small space, sending tremors down her spine. "I'm sure that I can devise a fit punishment for you. In the meantime, next time you need to make yourself look good to Ms. Parkinson, try bragging about Daddy's mansion as usual. Insulting teachers does not become you."

Draco hung his head and glanced at the floor. Good! He looks embarrassed. It's about time Snape needled that prat. He's been obnoxious for years! Draco's face suddenly twitched. What had he spotted??? She panicked. He began to walk over to the desk where she was situated. She pulled the uniform black robe over her head. Perhaps he hadn't seen her after all? He stopped right in front of 'her' desk. "I'm sorry Professor," his voice was remorseful, his actions were not, as he kicked a leg backwards and into Hermione.

"Come out, come out, wherever you are Granger," he drawled mockingly. "Excuse me Mr. Malfoy?" Snape quirked an eyebrow at him. "Did you say something?" Hermione fervently whispered prayers under her breath. "Our father who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name, our kingdom..." "Yes, I believe if you look under the desk behind me." "...come, thy will be done." "You will find Ms. Granger clutching a cauldron."

Shit. She closed her eyes and banged her forehead lightly against the cauldron she held in her lap. "Ms. Granger?" Snape imperiously inquired. "Would you mind crawling out of that space? You rather resemble a larvae curled up like that." She slid to her knees and stepped out of the crawl space, stretching her legs out.

"If you wouldn't mind removing your robe from your face? I don't particularly want to see your face, however, I would like to see your expressions as you attempt to lie yourself out of this situation. Should be rather amusing, indeed."

She placed her cauldron down on the desk with a thud and slid trembling hands back over her robe, pushing it back down to her shoulders. She bit her bottom lip and looked over at Malfoy. He smirked at her. She had never felt as much animosity towards a facial expression from a single individual. "Yes?" Snape nodded towards her. "I'm waiting to see what fiction you manage to mastermind." "Well, see, uh, I was um, trying to um, clean up the materials I had left out during class?" She stumbled over words. Tears of mortification stung her eyes. For HER to be caught at something like this. Her reputation was going to suffer irrevocable damage! The blot would go on her permanent record! She would never get into a good wizarding college! She would never get to be Minister-Of-Magic now! Her life was over!!!

"Is that the best you can do Ms. Granger? I must say, I am disappointed with your lying talents. I would have thought that my best and brightest (at this Draco raised his eyebrow) student could have come up with a better excuse." His oily countenance and the fact that it was he that held her future in his hands caused tears to prick at the back of her eyelids. No! I can't cry now. Not in front of Malfoy. No. To her shame tears began to run down her nose.

"P-professor Snape. I-I-I've never done anything like this before. I apologize. If you could just not mention this to anyone I would do anything, absolutely anything. I am so incredibly sorry. Nothing like this will ever happen again," she choked out, raising the back of her hand to her face, tears mixing with the ink that had smudged stubbornly on her cheek earlier in the day.

"Ms. Granger, if you think that I'm going to let you go just because you are in running for Head Girl, you have another thing coming." Hermione gasped at this piece of information. She didn't know that she was in the running for Head Girl. "Yes, yes Ms. Granger. Don't act so surprised. Feigned modesty does not become you." She flushed red at this.

"Mr. Malfoy! Where exactly do you think you're going?" They both turned their heads towards the boy that was slinking steadily towards the door. "Do you think that I am going to excuse you just because you discovered a hide-a-way for me?" Malfoy opened his mouth to protest. Snape quickly walked over to him and shut his jaw with a snap.

"Nuh-nuh-nuh.shhh!" Snape sliced his hand through the air in a sarcastic manner, cutting off all of Draco's protests. "Don't speak, Mr. Malfoy. You and Ms. Granger will be cleaning this dungeon from now until lights out...with these toothbrushes." He produced two scummy looking toothbrushes from a fold in his robes. "I believe that these belong to Mr. Crabbe and Mr. Goyle. Return them to them when you're done. They shan't notice the difference."

With that Snape tossed the toothbrushes on a desk, swirled and walked towards the door, robes billowing. Suddenly he spun on his heels. "Well? Why aren't you started yet? Oh by the way- Mr. Malfoy you have 3 weeks detention as do you Ms. Granger. I will speak to Professor McGonnagall about arranging both of your punishments. Don't stand there gawping! Get to work!" He spun again and thundered towards the door, opening it and slamming it shut in one motion.

Hermione waited for two beats before tearing into Draco. "God Malfoy! What is your problem? I was perfectly fine under that desk. I wasn't going to get caught. Jeez- It's not like I've done anything to you recently. Well? What justification could you possibly have for getting me in trouble?"

A smirk came over Draco's face. "You're a mudblood. That's enough justification for me to do anything I want with you. Besides, if I was getting in it for 3 weeks of detention, I might as well drag you down with me."

Hermione flushed in anger. "My blood is as purer than that filth that runs around in your veins! At least I wouldn't have ratted you out if it had been you under that desk. Us 'mudbloods' at least have some concept of honor. Even if I am a mudblood, that's still no justification for getting me in trouble and getting me three weeks of detention. This will go on my permanent record you know!"

"Your permanent record. Ah yes, the perfection that is your grades. Well, that's too bad. I suppose they are marred forever. I have honor. I have plenty of honor. Malfoys abide by a code of honor. If you would be too stupid to rat me out when I was a sitting duck under that desk, well then, I suppose you aren't as intelligent as you like to make out.

It's not my fault that you were sitting huddled under that desk. If you could have hidden that brown bush under your robe, I wouldn't have known you were there anyway. So if you want to blame anyone for getting you in trouble, blame your ugly hedge of hair." He turned around and sauntered towards the desk with the toothbrushes and picked up the least dirty of them."

"It's impossible to reason with one whose intelligence is as lacking as yours happens to be. Just shut up and let's try to make this tolerable for both of us okay?" Without waiting for an answer she too walked over to the desk holding the remaining toothbrush. "Ewwww," she grumbled, disgusted with the toothbrush that appeared to be soaked in grime with mold growing on the handle.

She crouched and began to scrub the dank floor of the cauldron when she felt eyes on her back. "Malfoy, if you could refrain from checking out my ass. it would be much appreciated."

"Why would I check your ass out? I'm just wondering how something as ugly as you could have been created. Your mother must put a paper bag on your head before kissing you goodnight. Are your teeth doing better by the way?" His sardonic voice grated on her nerves as did the reminder of her former teeth.

"Whatever Malfoy." She resumed scrubbing. She scrubbed until her arms ached and her thighs burned. God, this is a better work out that Buns of Steel! I wonder if they make wizard exercise tapes? She turned around to see how Malfoy was progressing on his half of the room. He was sitting in a chair with his feet up on a desk sleeping.

Fury overcame her as she had been working hard for over an hour and a half while the lazy prat had slept away. She walked over to Draco, wrenched his mouth open and shoved Crabbe/Goyle's toothbrush into it, jamming it to the back of his mouth. He awoke sputtering and gasping for breath. He blinked once and spat out the toothbrush, once the full force of the taste hit him.

"Uck! That's vile. Why would you DO that to me? That's just plain cruel." He began to spit the taste out of his mouth, specks of his saliva landing on the desk. Hermione backed off, not wanting to be part of his impromptu showering. He finished spitting and jumped up to face her, hands crossed over his chest.

"You're nothing but a good for-nothing waste of oxygen that I have the misfortune to go to school with. Your blood contaminates the school and all of wizard kind. You're Harry Potter's wench, a pitiful position that somehow makes you feel gratified. Your hair takes up miles and miles of space that could otherwise be used for better things, like growing Flobberworms. If you actually bothered to brush your hair, you would likely find larvae and insects and perhaps small rodents nested in it. Your teeth... I won't even go there."

"Malfoy I hate you, you prick! You are a pureblooded snob and a half with a major stick up his ass. Wait, oh sorry, was that Crabbe's hand? Your only friends are your henchmen and those that want to get close to you for daddy's money. The only reason that you ever made the Quidditch team is that daddy bought your house brooms. You buy your way into everything. If I saw you actually receive an honor that you hadn't bought, I'd die from shock.

You are nothing, absolutely nothing without your money. You are better looking as a ferret than as a human! You talk about my hair? Well let's take a look at yours. You're not exactly going to be put onto People's 50 Most Beautiful People of the Year list."(He looked confused at this) "It's so shellacked with varnish or that substance you call gel that you would have to scrape it off with a spatula did you ever want to see the real surface. Although I can't think of any reason you would. You are a waste of any and all resources that have ever been spent on you." She stalked towards the door.

"Granger!" She turned. "This is far from finished you bucktoothed beaver."

"Fine!" she spat out. "If a feud is what you want, that's what you're going to get! We'll see who wins Malfoy. But I just know that it's going to be me. Your puny brain can't think up any more insults. After all, you've been using the same one for me for 6 years. God, poor poor Malfoy. Can't think up anything more original that 'mudblood'. Well I have news for you. Hermione Granger is pissed. And I'm going to bring out the big guns."

"Fine!" he spat back. "You want a fight you've got it. You can go screw off. Wait- who would screw you? I can't think of anyone, not even that mangy haired follower, Weasel."

"Bring it on Malfoy," She walked out of the door, pausing for effect. "You're going to wish you had never been born." After the mudblood stormed out, I immediately conjured water and rinsed my mouth. Good grief- what was in Crabbe's mouth? He tasted... wait, do I really want to be thinking about what Crabbe tastes like? That filthy mudblood. How DARE she speak to a Malfoy like that? The likes of her speaking to the likes of me in that utterly... haughty manner. It wasn't so much that she was a mudblood- I don't even really care about class differences in the wizarding world. In actuality, that's all Lucius.

But she is so infuriating! I hate her know-it-all attitude. I hate the way that she looks down upon any Slytherins- it's not as though she could get a disease from touching us. She's more likely to catch one from those Weasleys that she associates herself with them. I shudder at the thought of visiting the most probably dirt and insect infested hellhole that they must call home.

I have to get revenge on her. How dare she make those remarks towards me? Calling me a waste of the advantages that have been showered upon me from birth! Is it my fault if I was born with a silver spoon up my ass? Is that how the muggle expression goes? I am totally worth every cent that Lucius has ever spent on me. Just look at me!

He glanced into the metal of the cauldron that Granger had been using to boil her potion. Yup! That's me alright. Gorgeous as usual. My hair shone back at me ,my sculpted face looked perfect- if I do say so myself My shoulders had widened though- a byproduct of that horrid time called puberty. I hated them myself- I just happen to believe that the male form looks better slender and lithe. However, I had noticed that the girls seemed to enjoy watching them; so shrinking spells weren't necessary just yet. Speaking of shrinking spells, I was still wondering who had shrunk Granger's teeth after I had enlarged them to their 'spiritual' size. The memory still made me chuckle sometimes.

"Say," he asked aloud. "I wonder what Granger was doing down in the dungeons. She obviously wasn't making an extra credit potion; Snape may even have let her off in that case. "Hmm," he murmured, venturing closer to the cauldron. He peered into the cauldron and was surprised to see it let off steam as he touched the rim of the vessel. It was light pink in color and smelt rather like..."patchouli!" he exclaimed in surprise at his favorite scent.

Draco liked patchouli oil, the way it smelt, the way it felt. It was one of the constants that he ensured that he had on his person. Perhaps Granger was making a patchouli potion so that she could smell him all the time? No- not even he was stupid to believe that. He mused over the patchouli potion for a while, a thoughtful finger tapping at his temple. Perhaps she wanted to emulate the perfection that was Draco Malfoy? He let out a brief snort at this- Granger had all but accused him of being the spawn of Satan in their last conversation.

He laughed in rue. He WAS the spawn of Satan. Where could you find a more eloquent name for all that Lucius Malfoy was? Narcissa was a saint for putting up with him for all of these years- his brutal beatings, arcane fetishes and 'indiscretions' that in truth were anything but discreet. He could remember his father's mistresses being paraded in his house since his fourth birthday party when one of his little friends had inquired if his mother was the woman wearing the fishnets and teddy, lasciviously flirting with his father. Narcissa truly was a great woman, and the fact that she had sacrificed all pretenses of a 'nice' home life for him spoke volumes in his mind. His mother loved him more in one day than his father would ever in a lifetime.

That was another reason that he hated the Granger chit so much. Her grades were top notch. She always beat him in every subject, whether it be Arithmancy or even Potions. At the end of every marking period, he would dutifully go to his fathers study and hold out a copy of his school report. His father would ask his time-honored question- "Did you get top marks in any classes?" He would stammer around the subject, attempting to point out his 112% in Herbology or History of Magic, however his father would cut him off with a sharp glare.

"Do you mean to say that the mudblood bested a son of mine again?" he would ask, his inquiry silky, his delivery and inflection the same as they had been every semester that he had studied at Hogwarts. Draco would nod regretfully and stiffen his lips and clench his face in anticipation of the blow that would fall on his neck, in the same spot. "Why is it that my son, a pureblooded wizard has marks that cannot beat those of a mudblood witch?" The rhetoric was always unanswerable, but he would often try, stumbling through explanations of how she was a know-it-all and that she kissed McGonnagall's butt every chance that she got.

Yes, the bitter beatings that followed were another reason for him to dislike the mudblood with every fiber of his being. Draco Malfoy would have revenge upon her for her insouciant remarks, her know-it-all ways, her scornful attitude and for the bruises and scars that she indirectly put on his body and on his soul. He just had to think of how. He chewed his lip thoughtfully, ignoring the footsteps that echoed in the corridor, approaching the door.

The door was suddenly wrenched open and Snape swept in. "Not finished yet I see Draco." Snape shook his head in regret, leaning over to inspect the floor. "This side of the room appears to be clean, however this side," he gestured expansively to the side where Draco had been resting in blessed oblivion, "appears almost entirely untouched. Now whose side could this one be and whose could this be?" Snape pretended to ponder the question, furrowing his brow for effect.

"Sir, the clean side is my side. I just finished it. The mudblood left soon after you did. She appeared to be mumbling something about how disgraceful the authority was in this school and how they always caught the wrong culprits. I did the best that I could, however my knees are raw from work." For maximum credibility, Draco unsnapped his robe and pulled up one of his jeans legs, showcasing a knee with a mottled tinge and that looked floor burned and chapped. What Snape didn't know protected Draco in this instance. The abrasion on his kneecaps had come from yesterday's Quidditch practice, those Wronski Feint drags were hard to master and he had spent the better part of the afternoon with his legs dragging behind him on the ground.

"I see," Snape mused over this professed event that he appeared to be on the verge of believing. "Well, I shall be speaking to Ms. Granger and Professor McGonnagall. It is not right for students to abuse my trust so freely. Imagine the nerve of that girl, walking off after I had explicitly punished her." Snape murmured other vaguely insulting things under his breath about Granger. The phrases, "know-it-all, thinks she's smarter than me, obnoxious chit and disturbing lack of respect" could be heard loud and clear.

"Professor?" Draco stood in front of Snape at attention. "Hmm? Yes what is it Draco?" the professor looked vaguely confused as his train of though was broken. "May I go sir?" Draco politely enquired- it couldn't hurt to be on Snape's good side. "Go...go," Snape waved his hand at the door. Draco left to the sounds of, "how dare that bloody chit..."

He dipped his finger curiously into the potion Granger had been making. What had been so important that she would risk her career to sneak down and make it? It tasted curious and he was almost immediately seized with stomach cramps that wracked his whole body. He felt curiously lightheaded as he walked out the door.

Yes, Draco wanted revenge on that girl, and he wanted it badly. He could almost taste how good it would feel to get her in front of the whole school. The bit about accusing her of not finishing her cleaning to Snape had been a start, but more drastic measures needed to be taken. There was only one foolproof method of jumpstarting Draco's brain. He slunk down the hall to Pansy's room, smirking inwardly about the sound 'stimulant' he was about to receive. The anticipation of the next few hours was great, but he was still pondering the potion that Granger had been making in the Potions room. He knocked on her door and waited.

Meanwhile in another part of the castle...

After Hermione had threatened Malfoy, she walked down the corridor feeling lighter, as though a great weight had been lifted off of her shoulders. She thought back to their conversation, savoring the highlights. She had gotten some good jabs into their argument- in a battle of wits there was no question about which of the two of them would win. However, Malfoy had always been good at pranking people, and public humiliation was his middle name. She had been testament to this, Ron and Harry and been put in some Shame Hall of Fame worthy moments due to Malfoy's plotting.

She hadn't really thought about that aspect of their battle- no, their feud. It couldn't really be classified as much else. Feuds are so romantic- she flashed back to the summer when she had seen Romeo and Juliet performed at Covent Garden. Hold on! Had she thought the words 'Malfoy' and 'romantic' in the same train of thought? She shook her head quickly, as though attempting to erase the brainfart. She debated rinsing her head in disinfectant to clear it of the errant thought.

"Hey Hermione!" a male voice cut into my inner debate. I looked up and smiled at Justin Finch-Fletchley. He was a friend of mine, although not a particularly close one. He was a Hufflepuff, a mud-muggleborn the same as I was. Where had the first half of that awful word come from? Probably from being around Malfoy too long. Too much time in the presence of a 'Satanette' could probably corrode my mind.

"Hey Justin," I replied. I liked Justin for a bit during third year. I don't know why he suddenly seemed interested in me- it's not like I looked all of that different from then. As Malfoy never was hesitant to point out, I had masses and masses of bushy curls.

"How's it going Hermione? You look sort of upset." As always, Justin was very perceptive. I had the suspicion that he was a seer. He always had seemed directly affected by other people's emotions and I knew for sure that he had made a few correct predictions. Justin's brown eyes also seemed mysterious somehow- like he could see things that other people couldn't- like he could see beyond the realm of the profane world and into the sacred. I studied his features. He was actually very cute.

"I'm better now that I've seen you," I attempted to flirt with him. I've been trying it out this year and so far it seems well received. "I've just had an argument with Malfoy and he won me three weeks detention from Snape. We sort of have a feud going on now. I'm just trying to think up evil things that I could do to him." I chewed my lip thoughtfully.

"Oh wow, that really sucks. Are you okay?" His eyes flashed concern at me that felt so good. "He can be such the complete obnoxious prat sometimes. Especially about us being muggleborns. But he's never had it as bad for me as he has it for you. I think you should put something in his gel or bond Millicent Bulstrode's hand to his fly or something like that!" He smiled at me, his perfect teeth exposed between soft, full, oh so kissable lips. God, I swear I don't know what's wrong with me this week. I keep thinking that guys I've known forever are...well, there's only one way to put this. Jumpable.

I guess I really haven't lost my background yet. The first thing my mum always told me to look for in a guy is pearly whites. The marks of a dentist family never leave you, I suppose. "Yeah. I'll be fine. I just really want to get that bastard back for everything that he's ever done to me. I like that idea about Millicent Bulstrode, although to be fair, the girl's never done anything to me that could warrant torturing her in that way. I would cement Pansy to him, but I think she would actually enjoy it. I actually have an idea that has to do with that portion of his anatomy." My eyes flashed in amusement and I grinned.

"Yes? Are you going to let me in on your little secret?" Justin smirked wickedly at the thought of Malfoy suffering. God, that makes him look so... "Sexy," I murmured. "What was that Hermione? What's sexy?" Justin looked confused. "Sexy? Who said anything about sexy?" My neck flushed like it always does when I'm embarrassed and confused.

"I was just saying 'sweet'. How sweet it's going to be when I get my revenge on that jerk. They say that revenge is a dish best served cold but I'm sure that this steaming dish of scandal will serve me just fine." I chuckled at the thought of the havoc I was going to wreak on Malfoy's life. "Say Justin, I have to get going. I have a bunch of homework to do."

"Well, I'm going to be overjoyed to see him get whatever he does get tomorrow at breakfast. What do you say we have a little private celebration after Malfoy's public humiliation? I know a little grassy knoll..." he trailed off looking nervously at me.

"I bet you say that to all of the girls," I batted my eyes at him. Damn! This flirting thing is coming to me easier than I thought.

"So what do you say? Private celebration?" Justin winked at me.

"I'd love it. I have to go to the library. I'll see you." On impulse I leant forwards and hugged him. He hugged me back and I felt him release a breath of relief.

I walked quickly around the corner, stopping suddenly as I was seized by terrible cramps. I lent against the wall to no avail. I felt as though I was being ripped apart and sewn together again. It couldn't be my period, I had finished just last week. Whatever could it be?

I saw Justin walk around the corner towards me. "Justin!" I cried. "Please go to Madame Pomfrey and tell her that I think I'm going to pass out. Quickly, I feel awful." "Why do you think that I would help you?" He sneered at me. I quickly grew puzzled, was he schizoid? The boy had just practically asked me out and now he wanted me to die alone in a corridor?

"Well, why wouldn't you help me?" I asked reasonably, my forehead breaking out in beads of sweat from the exertion. I could feel my face flush and I slumped down against the wall, clutching my stomach. Justin appeared upset by the question and with a short huff of frustration he walked on down the corridor.

"Justin!" My voice rang out in the stillness of the hallway. "Seriously, tell me what I've done to make you so irritated." He turned back to me and quirked his eyebrows in annoyance. "Well, you HAVE tormented me for six years, incessantly calling me a mudblood, mocking my heritage and the house that I am in. I'd say that I have NO bloody reason at all for not wanting to help you..."I watched his lips move in horror. I could only think of one person that had tortured Justin in that manner, only one that I could possibly be embodying.

"...Malfoy." My heart sank as I realized that my potion must have worked. Stupid, interfering, inquiring Malfoy. I cursed his family, his house and his personality in one quick murmur. "If that's all Malfoy, I think I'll be off and let you die here quietly in peace," Justin walked on. Thankfully the ripping pains had stopped, but my worst nightmare had come true. I was not only going to be feuding with the enemy, I WAS the enemy!

Draco groaned and turned over. He had fallen asleep in the most damnably uncomfortable position he could think of, perpendicularly wedged into a door frame, his neck craning awkwardly against the wood. He brushed a long lock of hair out of his eyes. Hold up a second... he wasn't supposed to have brown hair, nor long hair. He blinked and tugged at the hair for a second, thinking that perhaps it could be attached to another, more feminine head. The sharp sensation on his head was an unpleasant shock. He had obviously been the victim of a very unfortunate prank.

Who in all of Hogwarts would dare to turn his hair into such an abominable mess? A tangle of brownish frizz, that appeared to be feminine in style. The events of the last night came to him again. He had knocked on Pansy's dorm room and sat down to wait for her to answer it. He had figured that she was taking a long shower or something. He had then fallen asleep in his current position. Why hadn't that bitch opened the door? Stupid bint, he would be letting his father know about this rejection of the Malfoys.

He creaked to his feet. He felt strangely off kilter and shook his head to clear the fuzziness that sleep had undoubtedly left in his mind. The frizzy mass whipped across his cheek and he smelt a familiar scent, that of cinnamon. Funny really. That bint Granger smelt of cinnamon. He stumbled along the corridor and into the bathroom. It was early morning, so none of the other Slytherin boys were there. It was just as well.

At first he thought that his eyes were playing tricks on him. As he stood in front of the face mirror, the image of Granger reflected back at him. He placed his left palm in the air and she mirrored his motion. "Is this some sick joke Granger?" he asked, voice fogged with sleep. His voice sounded higher and more feminine but he figured that it could be attributed to his lack of sleep. To his surprise, no answer came. He shot a sneer at the mirror and instantaneously he saw Granger sneering back at him. The expression really did not suit her at all, he thought. "Mudblood, Weasel and Potty come out come out where ever you are!" His voice resounded, suspiciously feminine in tone.

He hopped up and down in front of the mirror. He was met with the image of Granger, with decided feminine assets or liabilities. Whichever that sex preferred. He looked down at himself with growing horror and alarm, finding exactly what he had hoped not to find. He saw two breasts and beneath them a pleated skirt, rather pale legs that ended in black oxfords. He shrieked in terror. The high-pitched, decidedly feminine voice was definitely that of his arch nemesis. He did the only thing that he could think to do. He ran, as fast and as far as her stubby legs would take him.

Hermione arose early as well, but in her own bed. Well it certainly wasn't her bed any more. Her or more accurately his bed was all the way on the other side of the castle, in some hidey-hole that she didn't know about nor care to know about. She sat up, stretched and yawned. She REALLY had to go for a pee. Absent-mindedly she pulled the curtains from around her bed and made her way to the bathroom she shared with Parvati and Lavender. She ran her hands through her hair, stopping startled as the full events of yesterday sunk into her sleep-drugged brain. There was no way that she was going to pee now!

Still in shock, she made her way over to the mirror. She squinted and saw Malfoy reflected in the same unflattering pose. He obviously wasn't a morning person, she thought. His hair stuck up in unruly clumps and his normally alabaster complexion was red and blotchy. "Is this a joke?" she wondered aloud. The potion had never worked in practice before, even the most advanced potions masters couldn't manage to make it work. Theoretically it was supposed to work, she wrinkled her nose in confusion. The Permuto Demuto potion- she had made the Permuto Demuto potion! She smiled in glee and laughed.

She beheld a strange sight in the mirror. When Malfoy laughed, his face appeared to light up, his eyes crinkled at the edges and his joy brought iridescence to his normally blank, but not unhandsome features. But she really had to pee. Correction, he really had to pee. She contemplated what this bodily function would entail for her and screamed. It was a masculine scream that put her body into motion. Her now long legs seemed a huge change from her previous petite figure. She ran as fast as she could to the one place where she was almost positive that the situation could be rectified.