Narcissa Malfoy looked up when she heard the door open. It was often hard, with Dobby around, to find something productive to do at the Malfoy Manor. He was just too good at his job- she wished Lucius didn’t make him torture himself so.
The person that entered the room was most decidedly not Lucius, Dobby, or Draco. None of those three were girls.
This girl was a pretty one. There was a certain elegance to her face that drew the line almost perfectly between beautiful and gorgeous. The result was nothing short of cute, even though the effect was much diminished by the boys’ robes she wore.
Then there was the girl’s hair. It hung down her back and out of sight, gleaming silver with royal blue stripes splitting it neatly into thirds. From what she could see, it seemed to be waving gently as it did so.
Narcissa was about to say something as the girl walked towards the table, looking like she was half asleep despite having had time to brush her hair so well, when something possibly very important crossed her mind.
Standard robes, of the sort worn by most people, were unisex. The tailor only trimmed them to match the wearer’s height and arm length.
Expensive robes, of the sort that only the ancient, rich families, such as her own, could afford, were not unisex, and were custom-made from the ground up to fit the wearer perfectly.
And this girl was wearing a set of these expensive robes that weren’t made for her. Because of the precision with which they were made, such an act often resulted in anything from mild discomfort to severe pinching.
Especially when wearing robes that were made for someone of the opposite sex. The girl had to be in at least mild pain, just from the clothes she was wearing.
She had to wonder who the girl was, and how she’d gotten her hands on those robes. Whose robes they were.
The girl didn’t seem to care. She pulled Draco’s chair back, and sat in it heavily. “Dobby, I need some water.”
To Narcissa’s surprise, Dobby obeyed. He didn’t normally show himself, or respond to, people outside of her family- as was Lucius’ standing order. Yet, he appeared to offer the girl a glass of water within two seconds of her request.
The girl accepted the glass, drank most of the water, and splashed the last little bit in her own face. Then she shook herself out, blinked a couple times, and looked down at herself. “Dang. Um…” She looked at the empty glass in her hand- then looked up suddenly, at Narcissa. “Oh, hi Mom,” she said.
Narcissa didn’t move. This strange girl had just called her mom. She wasn’t sure how to shatter that illusion.
The girl didn’t wait for her, though. She slumped down against the table. “I think I need to go to St. Mungo’s. I think I’m hallucinating.”
“... Hallucinating?” Narcissa asked slowly.
“Yeah, that I’m a girl. I think it had hallucinogenic side-effects, and the dihydrogen monoxide refresher didn’t even make it blip.”
“... What?” She stared confusedly at the girl. What in the world was she talking about?
The girl put her hands to her forehead. “Right, forgot about that. Perhaps I should start at the beginning, and tell you what happened last night?”
She nodded. “Yes, please.”
It took Aunt Petunia close to half an hour to get Dudley to come back into the kitchen with her to eat his food, by which time even Vernon was getting started with his meal, having gone through his own little shock at seeing Hailey. Hailey had just finished her fairly short explanation of what had happened, which included her new name, when they all heard the click of the mail slot and flop of letters on the doormat.
“Get the mail, Dudley,” Vernon said absently, selecting the first person his eyes fell on.
“Make Harry get it,” Dudley answered automatically. It wasn’t the first time this had happened.
“Get the mail, Harry- er, Hailey,” Vernon continued.
Hailey’s line was usually to tell him to make Dudley get it, after which he would tell Dudley to punch her, but she decided to forgo that today. “Sure.” She headed for the door to get the mail.
And there, on the doormat, was a postcard, a letter that looked like a bill… and a heavy parchment envelope addressed to ‘Ms. Hailey Potter’.
When she got back to the dining room, she handed Vernon the postcard and the bill, then sat back down at her spot at the table to open her letter. She was immensely curious who was sending her mail- especially since she hadn’t existed, as Hailey, just the night before. It certainly didn’t hurt that the address included her cupboard. It had to have been addressed this morning- either that, or someone knew she had become a she.
… Someone that didn’t need a stamp.
She was at the point of putting the letter back into the envelope, after reading it- it was a nice joke, she was sure- when Vernon noticed she had it.
“What’s… that?” he asked.
She finished stuffing the parchment into the envelope, closed it, and slid it across the table to him. “Someone somehow knew I was going to become a girl, and is trying to make a joke, I think. Something about a ‘Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry’... even though witchcraft is another word for ‘experimental cooking’ and wizards don’t exist. I do wonder how they got the address, though.”
Vernon and Petunia both stared at her for a couple seconds, then looked at each other for a couple more. Finally, they turned back to Hailey, and spoke as one.
“We need to talk.”
Hailey blinked. “Uhh… Okay.”
It took nearly three hours for the girl’s explanation to draw to a close- to the point where Narcissa’s early morning was no longer early.
Even so, neither Narcissa nor Lucius- who had shown up about fifteen minutes before she finished- believed the girl that claimed to be their son. It sounded too much like some crazy story that had been invented in an attempt to insert herself into their family as a replacement for Draco. She had yet to even give them her name!
Silence held for several seconds.
Then, the girl’s stomach rumbled, and she flinched. She turned her head slightly. “Dobby?”
After a second’s pause, the house-elf appeared out of nowhere. “Yes, young mistress?”
Both Narcissa and Lucius stiffened slightly. Why was Dobby calling this stranger that?
Fortunately, they didn’t have to ask anything. The girl seemed to think something was strange about his address as well, and looked at him. “Wait. What… What did you just call me?” She sounded confused, and a little bit curious, as well.
Dobby blinked, and answered nervously. “Y-Young Mistress. Unless you still prefer-?” He cut himself off.
The girl shook her head. “No, it’s fine.” Then she turned towards him. “I… have some questions for you. Strange questions, probably, but I need you to answer them as honestly as you can.”
Dobby nodded silently.
“Okay. Am I hallucinating?”
Dobby took almost five seconds to answer- and when he did, it sounded like he was choosing his words carefully. “Dobby doesn’t believe so, Young Mistress.”
The girl blinked. “... Okay. Am I… a girl?”
Dobby only took two seconds to formulate his answer this time. “You certainly appear to be, Young Mistress.”
“Then how did you recognize me?”
“Dobby recognized your magic signature, Young Mistress.” He answered instantly that time.
“My… magic signature? So… I’m still… me?”
There were several seconds of silence before Dobby spoke. “Dobby does not understand.”
“As in…” The girl scowled. “Like, I’m still me, my magic is still my magic, it hasn’t changed, and so on?”
Dobby took a couple of seconds to answer. “Dobby… senses an infusion of power, and what Dobby thinks is a shield of some kind, but from what Dobby can sense, your magic is still the same as it was yesterday, the same as Dobby memorized for Draco Malfoy eleven years ago.” There was a second’s pause, and Dobby looked towards the floor. “Dobby does not know how the Young Mistress wishes to refer to herself.”
The girl looked at the table. “... You know, I’d like to know the answer to that one myself, actually. So…” She took a deep breath, and turned back to Dobby. “Am I dreaming?”
He was silent for a couple seconds. “Dobby does not believe so, but Dobby does not know.”
She blinked. “... Right. I suppose you wouldn’t know anything different if I was versus if I wasn’t, would you?” She sighed. “I guess I’ll go on the assumption that I’m not, for now.” She took a deep breath, and let it out. “So… can I get some breakfast? Anything, really- I’m hungry right now.”
“Understood, Young Mistress! Your meal will be ready in a minute!” He vanished into thin air.
“You… are… Draco…” Narcissa muttered slowly, eyes wide.
Draco nodded. “Though Draco isn’t a girl’s name,” she muttered. “If… If we assume I won’t suddenly wake up, or turn male again anytime soon, what should I go by in the meantime?” She looked up at Lucius and Narcissa.
The room was silent for about forty seconds, before Dobby appeared with a plate of fresh eggs and bacon.
“Thank you,” Draco informed him, accepting her cutlery and taking a bite.
“I- I don’t know,” Narcissa muttered. “I- I didn’t expect…”
“Silver, maybe?” Lucius mused.
Draco raised an eyebrow. “You mean like my hair?”
Right at that moment, an owl swooped in the open kitchen window, landed next to Draco, and offered her a letter.
She accepted it wordlessly, glanced at the front- and paused.
“Huh. How about Silversong?”
“Silversong?” Narcissa asked. “That sounds kinda like a pet name, though.”
Draco shrugged. “Or an Equestrian name. Remember Twilight Sparkle, Celestia, Cadence, Luna, Flurry Heart, even Queen Chrysalis? And that’s not even counting Spike the dragon, or Raven Inkwell, or-!” She cut herself off, and let out a breath, having opened the letter and extracted the parchment inside as she spoke. “Yup. ‘Dear Miss Malfoy’ and everything.” She tilted her head. “I wonder how Hogwarts knows…?” She flicked the emptied envelope across the table to her parents with one hand; Lucius trapped it easily, and they both read the address.
Sure enough, it was addressed to Silversong Malfoy.
“Yup, they’re definitely inviting Silversong Malfoy to Hogwarts,” Silver scowled. She lowered the letter. “Well, I’d hate to miss out on my education just because I became a girl, so…” She took a deep breath. “Maybe we could tell the world that, for all this time, there have been two Malfoy families- one being us, and the other being so secretive nobody- other than the Malfoys themselves- knew about them, including teaching their own children. Then, both of Silversong’s parents died, and she ended up coming here to live with you, and you didn’t want to homeschool her, so sent her to Hogwarts, since it was convenient.
“Draco, on the other hand, wasn’t sure where he wanted to go. He told Hogwarts he needed to think about it, applied for Durmstrang, changed his mind, looked at Hogwarts, changed his mind again, and finally went to Beauxbatons or however you pronounce it. For the schools themselves, we tell Hogwarts he went to Durmstrang, Durmstrang he went to Hogwarts, and Beauxbatons nothing at all- and if someone digs too deep, a lot of letters got crossed somewhere and Draco ended up actually going overseas to someplace in America.” She took a deep breath. “Assuming, of course, the transformation is permanent. If it’s not, then when it reverts, Silversong’s mother turned out not to have died and wanted her back, and at the same time, the letters got straightened out with Draco’s schooling, so he came home.”
“They grow up so fast,” Narcissa half-whispered.
“What about clothing?” Lucius asked. “Silversong can’t exactly go to Hogwarts wearing Draco’s robes.”
“Ahh…” She looked down at her robes. “Um, we go shopping for some clothes. It’d shatter the illusion if I showed up in Diagon Alley like this, so we’d have to find some plain robes or maybe some old girls’ robes for me to wear.”
“We don’t have any of those in the house,” Narcissa muttered. “We don’t keep that kind of thing.”
She winced. “Then… Then you go to Diagon Alley without me, and tell them that when Silversong got dumped on you, she didn’t have any clothes- maybe they were destroyed in magical combat, or in a fire when her house burned down and all she had was the bathrobe she was wearing at the time. So you’re looking for something that you can get without her presence, so that she can come along for a real shopping trip without causing a scene.” She tilted her head. “I mean, it would cause a scene if I went to Diagon Alley in a bathrobe, right?”
“Spoken like a true nobleman,” Lucius smiled. “Er- noblewoman, I suppose.”
She looked up at him, and blinked. “Really?”
Lucius nodded. “Being a noble is all about getting the world to believe what you want them to- especially if it differs from reality. There’s a saying about that- ‘fake it ‘till you make it’. I… had to become the stuck-up noble, for the most part, before I was able to display it convincingly. If you think you can pull off a large enough personality switch to pass as a completely different person…”
She shrugged. “Shouldn’t be too hard. As Draco, everything was always deliberate- and I kept controlling myself. I… might’ve mentioned the three-page diary entry I was writing when the vision started.” She took a deep breath. “As for Silversong… She’s never known the trappings of the nobility, so she just speaks- and acts- her mind, basically whenever she feels like it.” He shrugs. “Should be random and impulsive enough that nobody will ever think to compare her to Draco, only to contrast her to Draco. The hard part will be when- and if- I go back to being Draco, where I can probably blame at least some of it on the Americas.”
“Something I’ve been wondering,” Lucius muttered. “You’ve been using a number of words that even I don’t understand fully. Where…?”
“... Oh. Sorry. When Twilight gave me her knowledge, I think it included not just the list of books that can be found in her library but the entire contents of all three dictionaries and all six thesauruses that can be found there.”
“She must’ve liked studying,” Narcissa observed.
“It seems so. She did not give me her memories, though, so I can only guess.”