Hope
It was like watching two lorries crashing in slow motion. Pomfrey and McGonagall stared at each other while everyone else kept quiet for fear of becoming a target to both of them. For probably the first time since starting at Hogwarts something wasn't my fault, and I wasn't about to put my hand up for the blame.
The pony—pegasus, really—that stood beside McGonagall hadn't been named yet, but like the foals I had an unmistakable sense of her gender. Since they looked like an adult, that had to narrow things down. It wouldn't be professor Sprout and it obviously wasn't McGonagall or Pomfrey, there was professor Vector, professor Trelawney, and Madam Hooch—that was all of them.
"Professor Hooch will need an examination at your earliest opportunity, Madam Pomfrey. Please make some time to see her when you are done with Miss Granger." McGonagall looked over at Hermione with an unreadable expression before she turned for the door and walked out.
"I can come back later if you're busy," Hooch said as she almost bounced from hoof to hoof. "It's just I need to go and practice flying."
She sounded more excited than I'd ever heard before. More excited than even the time Ron got her talking about her Silver Arrow broom. Every few moments she'd open a wing and look back at it, which only made her grin wider.
"Rolanda Hooch!" Madam Pomfrey's voice held more sharp command than I'd heard before in my life. Even Snape didn't sound this demanding. "You will stand still while I finish, you will not leave before I am done, and you will attempt to act your age!"
The last bit reminded all of us, I think, that Hooch wasn't actually a student that Pomfrey could order around, though Hooch didn't make a sound of complaint.
"Now, Hermione." Pomfrey turned back to Hermione. "I'd like to run more tests on you. As we have an example of a full transformation now, yours is quite intriguing as to why it stopped at this particular point. While I'd dearly like to know why, I'm more inclined to ensure your health than experiment. Relaxation?"
Relaxation (at least I figured it was Relaxation) appeared at Pomfrey's side. They didn't speak, merely looked up at Pomfrey.
"How long have you been working with me, Relaxation?" When the house-elf just shrugged, Pomfrey smiled. "You probably know all the spells I use at least as well as I do. Can you perform a Homonculo Revealio?"
Even at the distance I was away(about three feet), I could see Relaxation's eyes widen. "N-No, Madam Pomfrey. House-elves can't do wand magic."
Pomfrey gave Relaxation a much longer look—involving some eyebrow movement (I think it was her eyebrows). "Pity. Well, I guess it will have to wait, then. Let me have a look at you now, Professor Hooch."
I tried to tune out Pomfrey and focus on Hermione. "Are you alright?"
"Why didn't it work?" Hermione looked up from examining her arms. With her sleeves rolled up as they were, the yellow light of her crystalline body refracted any light that found it. "Why didn't I turn into a pony like you did?"
"Not a pony, remember? These little guys won't let me forget it, either." My comment got five nods from the assembled foals. "Hermione, look at what you've got, not what you're missing. You have a horn for doing magic, you seem to be able to use that magic without consequence"—I lifted one of my forehooves into the air—"and you still have hands."
In answer, Hermione lifted her wand up and twirled it in a circle with a careful flick at the start and end. "Loo-mos!" I felt the smallest wash of magic as she actually cast the spell, only it wasn't her wand that lit but her horn.
"See? You don't have to twirl your head around to make wand patterns, but you could." I struggled not to laugh when she went cross-eyed looking up at her horn's light.
"W-What happened?"
The voice caused everyone in the room to freeze. It wasn't Pomfrey or Hooch, and it wasn't Hermione, myself, or any of the foals—and no one had opened the door to enter.
Like my own ears, Hermione's had swiveled around to face the beds opposite but closer to the door. There was only two others in the room with us.
"Who are you? What are you? Are you in service to K-King Sombra?" One of the adult ponies was shifting on their bed and looking around at us.
I turned to look at Pomfrey, who seemed as calm and contained as ever.
"Mr. Potter? Please fetch the headmistress back here as quickly as you can while I see to our new guest." Madam Pomfrey stood up and walked over to the bed the unicorn was in. "Now, please be calm, dear, you've been through a—"
I missed the rest of what Pomfrey was saying. My ears were focused forward as I leapt from one bed to the next, bouncing my way to the end of the row and then onto the floor. "Loh-koh-mot-tor!" I focused my magic on the door handle, and had the door open just as I reached it. "Rest!"
"Why are you running? Madam Pomfrey will be upset," Rest said, apparating beside me.
"I need you to tell me where to find McGonagall. Pomfrey said I need to find her quickly." I knew I'd said the wrong thing the moment Rest smiled. I couldn't dodge fast enough as the house-elf reached one hand out and touched my back.
With an empty stomach, apparating was still horrible, it just wasn't lose your breakfast horrible, though my body wanted to get rid of everything it had, there just wasn't anything there.
"Mr. Potter! What's going on?" McGonagall sounded more surprised than angry, which meant I probably hadn't just appeared in a lavatory or the staff room. "What's the matter?"
Straining to hold back from dumping what little bit of mess my stomach was trying to put together, I looked up at McGonagall. "One of the ponies woke up. The unicorn." Looking around let me appreciate that my surroundings weren't anywhere near as bad as I'd feared—it was just a hallway.
"And you asked a house-elf to apparate you here despite your dislike for that mode of transport? Good work, Mr. Potter, five points to Gryffindor." McGonagall turned around with clopping sound and started walking back to the medical wing. At least I got something positive from my trip.
I turned and worked up my speed to keep pace with McGonagall. Once my legs were moving in a steady rhythm, actually keeping them moving was effortless. "Hermione seems stuck as she is."
"Is she now? I admit a certain amount of hope that more of us will end up that way rather than what happened to Professor Hooch." McGonagall glanced down at me. "I still profess curiosity as to what exactly you are, Harry."
"I'm sure if Hagrid were here, he'd know. He knows the names of all the animals. What do you think he's doing?"
McGonagall didn't say anything in reply for nearly the whole walk back. Just before reaching the still-open door of the ward, she stopped. "Rubeus Hagrid is, I hope, taking care of himself. We need to continue to do the same until he can rejoin us."
"It feels"—I gulped as we turned for the door—"Hogwarts feels like a family to me."
"For me as well, Harry. For me as well." McGonagall stepped into the ward and cleared her throat. "What seems to be going on? I understand one of our new friends is awake?"
The switch in tone made me falter, which gave McGonagall the chance to get a few paces ahead of me. Pomfrey was sitting on the edge of the bed while the unicorn was snapping their head around at McGonagall's entrance.
"You're not here from King Sombra, are you?" Real panic hung in the air on the tail of the unicorn's words.
"No." McGonagall stopped where she was and almost caused me to run into her legs. "Myself and Miss. Granger over there were responsible for removing that dreadful hel—"
"You took it off me?!" The unicorn jumped from the bed and scrambled over the next one to get away from McGonagall. "Y-You don't understand! He'll come after us!"
McGonagall stomped one foot—hoof—the sound of which drew every eye in the room to her. "I will not stand for a bully, and a tyrant is just a bigger bully. We have put in place a shield that is keeping him away, and we would dearly like to know more about this Sombra, so we can deal with him once and for all!"
The speech was surprising in how much it buoyed me up. I felt like I could do anything.
"So please, if I could ask for your name so we can first become friends."
The unicorn had stopped trying to get away and looked back at McGonagall—though with my eyesight I couldn't make out her features. "B-Blazing Sunshine. M-My name, that is."
"My name is Minerva McGonagall, and I'm headmistress of Hogwarts. You are safe within these walls, Blazing Sunshine." McGonagall reached a hand toward the pony and waited.
Blazing Sunshine took a few steps around the bed she'd tumbled over. She looked at McGonagall. "You're a headmistress? Of a school?"
"Of the best school." I couldn't stop myself, I had to defend Hogwarts.
"He really can't get in?"
"That's why he has all the ponies in helmets trying to blast the wards down," Hermione said. "And it's why we're trying to help you."
The pony walked closer to McGonagall and me. She looked terrified, but now she was closer I could see something in her eyes. Blazing Sunshine looked down from McGonagall to me. "You teach foals?"
"Older students too. Hogwarts' doors are open as a place of safety," McGonagall said.
"How do I know this isn't one of King Sombra's tricks?"
"Because King Sombra would never have taken those helmets off us." Everyone turned to look at the other pony we'd rescued. He was sitting up on his bed. "Which means these creatures are either brave or stupid, but they're nothing to do with that king." The pony almost spat the last word—his dislike of Sombra was palpable. "Anypony—anyone—against him is a friend of mine."
"This can't be happening." Draco Malfoy had said those words a lot since casting the spell against Harry Potter over breakfast. The entirety of Draco's life was collapsing, and it was all Harry's fault. Remembering back to that morning, Draco shuddered at the memory.
Storming out of the great hall, Draco was trying to think what felt so wrong. There'd been an all-over tingle when he'd cast the simple jinx. It should have stunned Harry, but when the other boy had literally eaten the spell, Draco turned and ran.
Down. Down was safety for all members of house Slytherin. The basement, and eventually the dungeon was Draco's target. He raced down the long stairs to the blank wall below and cleared his voice. Then Draco coughed. "Chosen one."
The wall started to tremble, then a single sinuous form defined itself and fell to the ground, only to slither aside. More and more snakes formed from the wall until an archway flanked by thousands of serpents was defined.
Draco marched on and ignored the opulently decorated room. He ignored all the couches, the green fires, and water lapping against the huge windows. Nothing mattered to Draco except for getting to his room and finding out what Harry had done to him.
Being a pure-blood, and having the father he had, Draco Malfoy had his own rooms within the Slytherin dungeon—plural. He locked the outer door and stomped through to his private bathroom.
Setting his wand down on the counter, Draco started off by removing his robe. The bulky garment hadn't been hiding anything since he was still wearing his blazer and a shirt under that. He also loosened his tie and lifted it over his head. His hands and neck showed no signs of any loss of humanity, though something did look a little off about the latter.
Teeth clamped together in a mixture of anger and fear, Draco Malfoy pulled his blazer over his head. There was still nothing that looked wrong to his eyes, though his hair being messed up annoyed him. "What happened?!"
With trembling fingers, Draco started with his cuffs and began unbuttoning his shirt. Once it was completely opened down the front, Draco closed his eyes and pulled his shirt off. Fearful of what he might see, Draco eventually opened one eye to see—the same supple and youthful body he'd always had.
Relief unlike any other flooded Draco to the point where he smiled genuinely. He was still a perfect pure-blood—the latest and (in his own mind) greatest scion of both the Black and Malfoy families.
"Not even Harry bloody Potter can besmirch my destiny!"
Wondering if the magic had protected him because he was so perfect, Draco made his way to the water closet and closed the door to take care of things.
It took nearly twenty seconds before Draco's scream echoed from the walls of her own private bathroom.
Draco spent nearly the full first period of the day trying to convince herself that this wasn't real and it wasn't happening to her. She was Draco Malfoy, son of Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy. She was not a girl. She had never been a girl and couldn't be a girl—that's not how this worked.
Draco waited until the end of the period before she realized this wasn't immediately temporary. Worry and panic now combined in her head to thrust out any thoughts of revenge. She had to hide this long enough for whatever it was to wear off or for the professors to fix it.
Shakily, Draco stood up and walked out of the water closet to her bathroom. A look in the mirror made her wince at first, but using every ounce of her determination she forced herself to look and take in her form. She wasn't much different to what he had looked like before. Draco Malfoy was a lithe and stringy girl of just twelve, and apart from what had given her away, she looked much as she always did except for one thing.
Her hand reached up to her throat and touched the flatness of her larynx where there should have been a slight bump.
Smiling for the first time all morning, Draco looked at her shirt and felt the first glimmer of hope. "I can do this. I can get this done, and no one will notice." Draco's eyes widened. With her thoughts focused on it, she could tell her voice was a little lighter, a little more—feminine.
Pants were the first thing to go on. Her shirt was next, and then her tie. That alone was enough to hide all trace of girl from Draco's visage. She pulled her blazer over her head and then pulled her robes on.
Now Draco could look in the mirror and not see herself, but the boy she should be. Her usual cocky sneer returned, and with the addition of some styling gel she got her hair back under control and in place.
Washing her hands, Draco turned and left her bathroom and located her books for second period, but when she left her suite with them, she found the common room buzzing.
"Draco!" Gemma Farley wasn't a stupid witch—such would be impossible as a prefect of Slytherin. Keeping the son of Lucius Malfoy from getting into the worst of trouble was a not-insignificant part of her school life, but it was one that would see her go far once she graduated. "You missed first period."
All that ran through Draco's head was that Gemma's piercing gray eyes would see through her disguise. She froze in place as the older girl marched up to her. "I-I-I—"
"I don't care what excuse you have, Draco, remember? I made you and your father a promise, and I intend to keep it. Now get to your Potions class, and suck up to Snape a bit." Gemma noticed right away that something was off. "What's the matter, Draco?"
The sound of real concern in Gemma's voice failed to shock Draco out of her fear. She knew, Draco thought.
"Look, if it's a boy thing, just relax. It happens to every guy about this time in their life. I'll cover for you, Draco, and not just because your dad's going to reward you. You deserve it. I've seen your test scores, you're damn good—prefect good—but you need to keep working at it."
Draco was doubly surprised. Her disguise was working and Gemma was complimenting her for her work. She took a deep breath and let it out. It wasn't often that she encountered someone who liked her despite her father, though a little voice kept saying she was in her father's pocket and she was a Slytherin. Pride, however, is a powerful force. "Thank you, Gemma."
"I'll fill Snape in. I don't know, maybe something about you wanting to study extra for his class so you skipped Sprout's."
"Draco!" Vincent Crabbe rushed over to Draco. "I—"
A horrible stench hit Draco's nose, and it was all she could do not to gag. "Go and wash your mouth out, Crabbe, it smells like something died in there."
Gregory Goyle rolled his eyes when Vincent stood there staring at Draco in shock. "He's right. You reek, Crabbe."
"Those bloody Gryffindors and their—"
"Go and wash your mouth with something!" Draco had no qualms cutting Vincent off. She turned to look at Gemma one more time. "Thanks again."
When Gregory and Draco walked out of the Slytherin common room sans Vincent, Gregory turned to his friend. "What you thanking her for?"
"Because she's not stupid enough to enter an eating contest with a queasy stomach, and she stuck her neck out for me. I didn't see you trying to stop Potter in the great hall." Draco put as much sting in her words as she could.
Being a girl didn't matter—not until it could be fixed. Look at Gemma Farley, Draco thought, She isn't just going to graduate as one of the top of all her classes, she was securing her future with strong connections to powerful families. An inspiration to any Slytherin or even any wizard.
"Well, I had to get Crabbe out of there." Gregory balled his hands into fists at the implication that he hadn't done what he could. "Why did you run? Everyone's talkin' about it."
Only Draco's Gemma-fueled bluster saved her. "I cast a spell you nit-wit. Mustn't have been big enough to affect me, though. Probably only a mudblood thing that causes that change." If Draco repeated that enough in her head, she almost believed it. Almost.
The only reason Draco had lasted the whole day was the confidence that Gemma had bestowed upon her. Every sneer, every barbed comment, was a testament to the belief that Gemma had in Draco. She had to get through this.
Waking up, Draco hoped that everything had been a bad dream and she wasn't still a girl. Dealing with magic on a daily basis meant a certain amount of strangeness had to be taken as a given, and Draco had been neck deep in it since she could walk. But she was definitely still a she.
"Okay, this needs to be fixed, and I can't trust those bumbling idiots to do it." Draco got out of bed and showered as best she could.
Clean and dressed, she made her way out into the common room for morning briefing.
Spotting a seat on one of the couches, Draco made to sit down when she heard someone clear their throat. Looking up, she saw Gemma giving her a direct and piercing look.
Draco hated that she wanted to go over and sit beside Gemma mostly because it implied that Gemma was making Draco's decisions for her. But there was still the fact that Gemma was supporting Draco, and the kind of support a seventh-year student could give was leagues above what Vincent and Gregory could offer.
So walking over, Draco let go of any feeling that she was abandoning her two friends, and sat down beside Gemma. "You wanted to talk?"
"What's he doin' here, Farley? He's not a prefect," Terence Higgs said.
Draco's head snapped to Terence. The boy was in the quidditch team—as backup seeker—and had already shown plenty of annoyance at having Draco made seeker above him. Not that Draco cared what he thought, but he was a seventh year student too.
"Shut up, Higgs. I called him over." Gemma rolled her eyes at Terence and turned her attention to Draco. "Ignore him, he's an idiot who cares more for quidditch than his own standing. How he even wound up in Slytherin—let alone a prefect—I don't know."
"I heard that!" Terence said.
Turning to look at the older (and bigger) boy, Gemma raised one eyebrow. "I intended you to, you oaf, however I seem to have made a blunder. I thought"—Gemma lifted her voice a little more—"that you'd have the intelligence to stew about it in silence."
Draco hadn't had much to do with the upper echelon of Slytherin house, but she found herself liking the game Gemma played more and more. "Why do you even waste your breath on him?"
Gemma loved an opening, and she pounced on the one Draco gave her. "I find myself wondering that too. Sometimes I wonder if that damned hat likes to put a Hufflepuff in Slytherin just for a laugh."
"Maybe it does. Maybe it—" Draco didn't get any further because Terence tried to take a swing at Gemma.
Lucian Bole wasn't known as being a calm boy. He had shoulders and arms on him, in his fifth year, that would put a graduate to shame. He caught the punch before it connected with Gemma. That she'd asked him to be here for this moment only made it better. "You weren't about to hit a girl were you, prefect?"
Feeling his fist being crushed in the meaty hand of the Slytherin quidditch team's top beater, Terence tried to pull back—and utterly failed. "L-Let go!"
"Lucian, let go of Terence's hand, I think he has learned a valuable lesson." Gemma tilted her head just enough to wink at Draco. "You don't make threats you cannot back up."
Terence jumped to his feet and stormed off toward the prefect rooms.
Gemma Farley smiled at the turn of her fortune for the morning. "I'd been trying to goad that idiot into that for two days now. Thank you, Draco." She flashed her smile to Draco and saw dawning realization on her ward's face. "And thank you, too, Lucian. I'm sure my report to Professor Snape will include a suggestion for who I think is likely the best replacement for poor Terence."
Lucian strained to pull his face into a smile. His eyes, sunk back from his brow enough to be called piggy, gleamed. "Anything for a lady." He bowed a little, and wandered off to sit with the waiting Slytherin house members.
Clearing her throat, Gemma stood up. She scanned the faces and features of the assembled students and sighed. "I see a lot of you sporting signs of magic use." She waited while there were almost a dozen students shifting in their seats and muttering excuses. "Relax. Reaching for power and paying a price for it is a fact of life. I'm not going to issue detentions or subtract points from you, Slytherins, for wanting more."
Draco was stunned at the way Gemma played the crowd. She'd watched the prefects give their briefings before, but there was a big difference between sitting in a crowd being manipulated and watching someone manipulate a crowd.
"You've all had some fun with it—I hope—because from now on I will be giving out detention to any Slytherin I catch with more than their already visible changes, unless you have a good reason for it." Gemma smiled warmly, like a snake watching its babies hatch. "We'll all wear hats to breakfast. I want to see no ears visible. Slytherin house will sustain through this mess with its honor intact."
That said, Gemma Farley plucked her own hat from beside her and placed it on her head. "Dismissed."
Looking up at Gemma, Draco noticed something. "If their ears aren't visible under the hat, it will be obvious they have horse ears."
"Of course. Which is why I'm going to get a scarf to cover mine, then reveal them to be there toward the end of breakfast. Do the same, Draco." Gemma left Draco sitting in the common room and headed to her own private bedroom.
When Draco's heart slowed down from the rush it had been working at, she jumped to her feet and hurried to her rooms. She had several hats, and chose a squat and brimmed model that she liked the look of, then grabbed a scarf to wrap around her neck high enough to cover her ears. "This is ridiculous."
Though she thought it was crazy, Draco Malfoy still did what Gemma Farley said because it made sense. Checking the mirror one last time, Draco looked for any trace of the girl under all that clothing. "They won't be able to tell."
"Tell what?" Gemma asked from Draco's doorway.
Draco's face, somehow, turned whiter than usual. She'd forgotten to lock her door in her haste. "Nothing."
"We both know that's a lie, Draco. Tell me what happened." Gemma locked the door behind her and walked up and put herself squarely between Draco and the doorway. When Draco didn't immediately answer, she opened her mouth. "Deten—"
"I did change." It wasn't the fear of detention that scared Draco into speaking, it was fear of what Gemma would organize to really punish her. "I—" But the words were impossible to say. It was like admitting them made it more real.
"It's bad?"
Draco bit back a yes. She scrunched her eyes closed. "I turned into a girl."
Gemma was positive Draco wasn't lying. This wasn't the kind of face she judged would ever lie. She reached out and removed the scarf and hat, but couldn't see any hint of femininity. There was one thing she knew would give Draco away.
Standing still as a post, Draco let Gemma loosen her tie and undo the top button of her collar.
"It's true. I needed to see." Gemma fastened the button and absently straightened Draco's tie. "Not a word of this, and don't use more magic. This will be the easiest one to hide if you keep your cool. Draco?"
Her name snapped Draco out of the second state of shock she'd felt in two days. She looked up at Gemma. "What?"
"No detention. Come on." Gemma turned and walked for the door, leaving Draco to stare in utter disbelief at the black hair that trailed down her back.
Breakfast was a relief for Draco rather than another terrifying social encounter. Vincent and Gregory sat on one side of Draco while she had Gemma on the other. Draco had to get her head around the situation, but after nearly ten minutes she still couldn't process every step of the situation Gemma had engineered.
Finally, Draco had to admit that she just needed to ask. "Why'd you do it?"
"Terence?" Gemma waited for Draco's nod. She hadn't intended to tutor Draco Malfoy, but with the possibility of another year at Hogwarts, ingratiating herself more to him (or her) didn't seem like a bad idea. "No one knows what's happening with our N.E.W.T.s. I've asked Snape, and he looked at me like I'd said something distasteful. You know they're administered by the Ministry? Well, if the Ministry can't get to us, we can't sit them.
"That means there is three outcomes to all this. The first is that when everything is sorted out, we go to the Ministry and they give us our N.E.W.T.s. That would be the best solution. Second best is that we have to come back to Hogwarts at the start of the next school year to complete them. The last is that we have to sit through an entire school year here before studying them with the sixth year students next year.
"I am making plans for the last eventuality. If I have to put up with another year here, I am going to make the best of it, and that means I have control of house Slytherin, if not making Head Girl." Gemma reached up and brushed at the hair at the side of her head, dislodging her scarf. She didn't deign to notice the pairs of eyes belonging to students of other houses as she showed off her human ears.
Draco was processing the layered plan Gemma had built. "So hope for the best and plan—"
"To make the best of the worst. I'd hoped to be done with Hogwarts and be out making more serious moves in the world, but if I have to be here I will surround myself with a particular quality of people." Gemma looked across and down the table to Lucian. "He's a thug. He's ambitious, and knows that at worst I'll only be around for another year. Don't take Lucien for granted, Draco, he plays the game to his strengths."
"You're using him." Saying it meant that Draco had to face the fact that she was being used by Gemma too, but she could also claim to be using Gemma. The second fact salved her pride a little.
"I use everybody, Draco, it's a good habit to get into. Evaluate people for what they can do for you, calculate what they want from you, and use one to get the other. It lets you know who is worth being friends with." Gemma finished her bowl of porridge and reached for her juice. "What do you think I can do for you, and what would you allow yourself to do for me?"
The questions threw Draco at first. She tried to think of what Gemma would want—what this monster of a girl would need from Draco Malfoy. "You want connections. My father gives you that—"
"I already have a deal with your father, as you know, and we both give and take as part of that deal. I want to know what you can offer, Draco."
"I'm already in your pocket, not just from my father's deal but also because of—because of earlier. You have blackmail on me, you have a solid deal with my family. You can trust that I'll act in your best interests." The words came to Draco as if her father had said them. They seemed to go together well. "I am an extra pair of eyes, ears, and a mouth. You used me earlier to provoke Terence, so you're already using me for that, but I could do more willingly."
"There is a brain in there. Just so we understand each other, what you told me before isn't even on the table as bargaining power because of my deal with your father. So, what do I have that you want?" Gemma was prepared for just about anything.
"Cunning, knowledge—You're better at this than me." Draco's ambition stole every weapon his ego and pride possessed and held them hostage while it did what it wanted. "You can teach me how to manipulate and plan."
"So we both have something the other wants. This is the basis for trust, Draco, but trust is a scale." Gemma sipped at her juice. "Take your scarf off next. Make it an accident."
"Why are we doing this?"
"Do it and I'll tell you."
Turning to Vincent at her side, Draco elbowed her friend. "I want you to shove me. when I shove back, pull my scarf off."
Vincent Crabbe wasn't the smartest of students, but he could follow orders. He turned back to his food and then reached an elbow out. With the joy that only comes of hurting someone who had already hurt him, Vincent shoved his elbow into Draco's side.
"Careful, you oaf!" Draco lifted her elbow and shoved Vincent back, only for the bigger boy to grab her scarf and pull it free. "Now look what you've done!"
"You started it!" Vincent stood up and glared down at Draco. Somewhere along the line, the simply mummery had turned into an actual confrontation.
Incensed and full of the confidence her newest teacher had given her, Draco stood up and glared at Vincent. "Just sit back down you oaf. We'll discuss this later."
Waiting for everything to calm down, Gemma asked, "What are you giving him?"
"What do you mean?" Draco asked.
"He jumps to your commands, he does whatever you want at the cost of his own dignity. What are you giving him in return?" When Draco didn't answer, Gemma continued. "So how much trust should you have in him?"
"So he needs to—"
"No, Draco. You need to find what he wants and make sure he knows it is you giving it to him. What does Vincent Crabbe desire?" Finishing off her juice, Gemma looked around at the Slytherin students she knew had pony ears. They all looked back at her with appreciative smiles.
"He likes power, but who doesn't. He loves food." Draco looked at the piles of food arrayed before them. "Is it really that easy?"
"If you feed his desires, Draco, you will have the most loyal hound you've ever known. Just be sure to check back from time to time—people's tastes change as time goes on." Carefully, Gemma wrapped her scarf around her neck again such that it covered her ears. "Take a few sweet things, go on, and when it gets to just before last period, share them with him. Make sure to pick an odd number such that you are left with one at the end—give the last to him."
Defense Against the Dark Arts class had been a snooze-fest, as had all the rest—since they couldn't use magic. Draco practically staggered out of Arithmancy (the only class that never taught magic anyway) and made her way into the corridor outside.
As always, Vincent and Gregory followed Draco. Each moved to flank their ringleader.
"Why don't you go on ahead, Goyle." Draco watched each of the Hufflepuff students leave the class (Arithmancy was shared with them). "I've got some special assignments for each of you." She then looked at Vincent.
"O-Okay," Gregory said and walked away feeling a little lost.
Reaching into her pocket, Draco lifted out one of the mini strawberry tarts that she'd grabbed from the breakfast table and wrapped in wax paper. Lifting it up to her lips, she took a small bite out of it. "Here."
Vincent Crabbe had never had this happen before. Draco Malfoy had just passed him a tart from breakfast—one of the good ones. "What's this about?"
"I was hungry, and I can't eat all of them, but didn't want to share with Goyle." Draco took another, bigger bite of her own tart. From the looks she saw on Vincent's face, she'd found a way to buy his loyalty for literally nothing.
"Fankf," Vincent said while stuffing his mouth.
Munching on her own treat, Draco tasted more than the strawberry and sugar confection. What Gemma had told her to do worked. A shiver of excitement ran through Draco at this realization. She gulped down her mouthful and popped the rest of the tart in her mouth.
With all his focus on eating the treat, Vincent reached the end of it far too fast for his liking. He let out a little sigh as he realized Draco was already done.
Lifting out the last of the tarts, Draco held it up to her lips and was about to take a bite. "Vincent, I don't think I can have another." The look in Vincent Crabbe's eyes as Draco handed him the last tart was perfect. "All yours. I don't think we need to tell Gregory about this, do we?"
Vincent shook his head quickly, already having stuffed half the sticky treat in his mouth.
With the school day complete, Draco Malfoy relaxed in the common room sitting on Gemma Farley's left side while Lucien Bole sat on her right. She felt a buzz going through those present. Draco's presence at Gemma's side spoke of support of the Sacred Twenty-Eight.
Draco knew Gemma's pedigree was almost as pure as the Black family's, but the difference was a slew of ancestors who wanted nothing to do with society. They had nonetheless bred a pure-blood heiress that was as hungry for power as Draco was herself.
The show of power in knocking Terence from his seat as prefect (Gemma's letter to Snape had been most effective, particularly with half the house watching) combined with every single Slytherin with a pony mutation feeling a strong bond of fealty to her, fed Gemma's desires in a way that nothing else ever would. She wasn't just in control, everyone wanted her in control and had a vested interest in keeping her in control.
"How's Mr. Crabbe doing, Draco?"
Gemma's voice reminded Draco how effective the ruse had been. "I could have asked him to stab himself and he would have."
"So now you need to tighten the bonds on your other friend. What does Mr. Gregory Goyle want most in life?" Gemma looked at the boy in question. She'd seen the type before—not as much raw brawn as Lucien, but probably more intelligence—and it was a tricky one to figure.
"Beating on people." Draco's eyes were on her friend. "Goyle likes breaking people and watching them try to squirm away. We'll need a target to let him have some fun."
"No, you need more than that. You need to hand him a target and a reason on a silver platter so that he knows it is a gift from you. This might hurt, Draco." Her mind ticking over already, Gemma had a plan building. "I'd suggest you do something to antagonize an older boy, perhaps a Ravenclaw, make sure Gregory Goyle is the only one who can help you."
"But wouldn't that be him doing me a favor?" Draco asked.
"Not when you take the fall for him. Let him go to town on the poor idiot. Help him if he looks like he needs it, but when it comes time for the prefects to break it up, you take it all. If there's detention, you take it. If there's other punishment, you take it. You give Gregory Goyle the gift of a free lunch."
Draco's mind raced with the logistics. A fight was easy, lots of students wanted to find Draco Malfoy alone and mouthing off, but making sure Gregory was nearby, and making sure no one else came until the right moment would be difficult.
"Magic will be the best way. I'll have someone cloak you three at the right moment to keep anyone from watching."
Gemma's words stunned Draco. "What? How will you get someone to voluntari—" She stopped. It was obvious. "I'll owe you for that."
"You're learning very quickly, Draco. There's hope for you yet." In the back of her mind, Gemma wondered if Draco's current state had anything to do with more cunning and higher intelligence. A little scare and a shake up seemed to have done the Malfoy heir a lot of good in her estimation.
"Hey Marcus? Marcus Belby?"
Marcus had been on his way from the Ravenclaw tower to class when he'd forgotten his quills. He'd run back to get them only to find Draco Malfoy waiting for him just down the hall from the tower's entrance. "What are you doing lurking around here, Malfoy? Don't you have class or a rock to crawl under?"
"Took you a while to think of that one?" Draco had been careful in who she'd asked Gemma to invite to help. "I was actually waiting for Helena."
Unable to stop his face from dropping, Marcus stared at Draco. "Chose your words carefully, Malfoy."
"Well, I heard you had a little crush on her, and I thought to myself, Draco, what's a girl from a good, pure-blood family like Helena Fowley want with a filthy little half-bl—" Draco turned her face to the side to catch the punch on the cheek rather than her nose. It snapped her head around, and she was seeing stars, but she managed to hold on to consciousness. "Helena?"
Helena Fowley held no reservations. She wasn't doing as well socially in Slytherin as she would have liked, and being in Draco Malfoy and Gemma Farley's good graces was worth a little sacrifice. She'd been walking with Gregory Goyle when she heard her name called by Draco.
Running around the corner, Helena spotted Draco just as Marcus Belby's fist made contact for the second time, sinking itself into Draco's belly and doubling them over. "Draco!" That was half of what she'd been asked to do—the easy part. Putting a lilt of longing in her voice had been simple.
"What're you doin'?!" Gregory stomped forward and grabbed Marcus by the collar just as his foot connected with Draco on the floor. Marcus was from a year higher than Gregory, but the weedy older boy didn't stand a chance as one big meaty fist slammed into his jaw. "You think you can jus' do that to a Slytherin'? Do ya?" Another punch. "Well?!"
Helena rushed to Draco's side and drew her wand. The Disillusionment Charm had no vocal component to it, but Helena was not worried about that. She practically danced over to Gregory Goyle and tapped him on the shoulder with her wand. A shiver ran through her. The charm was not insignificant for a fourth year to cast, and she felt pressure grow at her lower back.
Nursing her cheek, Draco watched Helena Fowley's robes billow behind her and a bright green tail swish around the floor. Gregory faded from sight as Marcus fell down.
The rush of power, of just letting go and doing what he wanted, elated Gregory Goyle. He completely ignored the magic use—his own being shrouded—and focused on beating Marcus to a pulp.
"What are you doing?!"
The cry from the direction of Ravenclaw tower was Draco's sign. She rushed over and pushed at the shimmering—almost visible form of Gregory. "Goyle. Leave off. I've got this."
Gregory kicked one more time before looking at Draco. "Why? He 'it you."
"I'm covered in bruises, you don't have a mark on you. If they catch you, you'll get expelled." Draco gave Gregory another nudge. "Helena's got you covered. Get out of here."
Not the smartest tool in the shed, Gregory Goyle looked back at Helena, then back down to Marcus. Turning, he ran.
With Gregory around the corner and away from the scene, Helena could let go of the spell. She could feel the tail tickling down her legs—it would match the ears atop her head. "Why'd you do that, Marcus?!" Her cry was for whoever the Ravenclaw was who had called out.
Draco sat in the second ward of the hospital wing. On the bed down from hers was Helena, and at the other end of the hall was Marcus.
Filius Flitwick was talking with Marcus, while Severus Snape stood beside Draco's bed. Despite the conditions, Draco had managed to keep from revealing her altered nature, though Helena hadn't been so lucky.
"Why on earth did you start a fight with that useless waste of space?" Severus Snape asked. "I thought you were better than this, Mr. Malfoy."
"I had my reasons." Draco's eyes flicked to the side—to Helena. She got a nod from the other girl.
"This kind of beating would normally result in expulsion," Severus said. "However—since there is a witness to say he threw the first punch, and since Marcus said as much himself, you are being let off with a warning."
The sound of clopping hooves outside the ward stole everyone's attention for a moment. Even Severus turned to look in the direction of the door.
"Take Miss Fowley back to the Slytherin dungeon." Severus started to turn, considering the situation already dealt with. He was certain there was more to this than what he'd seen, which made him proud of his students. Whatever gambit they were working, Draco's smile told Severus that it had worked. "And tell Miss Farley that the headmistress agreed with her estimations."
Draco bobbed her head and looked to Helena. "Here." She passed the older girl the wide-brimmed hat. "You'll need this more than me." The returned look of surprise and thanks fed into Draco's newfound goals. "Can you help me up?" Favors for favors. Binding people to her. Draco could almost forget what Harry Potter had done to her.
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I find myself liking Gemma in spite of myself. There's a strange delight in watching a master at work, even when the work itself is reprehensible. All the more so when they have a capable apprentice. Plus, getting Draco to recognize that her lackeys are actually people definitely gets points from me.
Of course, politics don't matter much if Hogwarts can't get back to Earth. And most approaches to resolving that particular task begin with disposing of a certain unicorn. Hopefully before he goes looking for lackeys in Slytherin.
When are they going to see other ponies? It's driving me a little crazy.
While buying your minions by appealing to their vices is certainly pragmatic, one should be careful not to over-do it. The fact that they can be manipulated in such a way also means that they will wallow in said vices if given the opportunity. This, of course is suboptimal, servants that cannot control themselves are unreliable at best, and dangerous at worst.
An effort should be made to instill some degree of discipline, quality is better than quantity in these matters.
To Ms. Pince, does the library have many books on the proper care of horses? I belive that topic has become highly relevant.
(Ask X) Headmistress Mcgonagall... I think you misunderstood, it's true that you can use a telescope to see the stars but you can also see the horizon, try to see far away on whatever place you are.
Gemma: "Will you be teaching Dracona how to use her feminine charms to get guys to do what she wants?"
sweet
It's so weird seeing female pronouns being used for Draco. My brain doesn't quite want to connect them to her.
9496938 What's not to like about her? She's a smart, modern young witch with firm designs on what she wants to do with her life.
9496973 Normally it's more gradual—sink or swim—but Gemma has a personal interest in seeing Draco succeed.
9496979 Me too! All in due time, however.
9496980 Baby steps. Baby steps.
9497061 Crabbe sure thought so!
9497083 You should try writing her.
9497034
First, she need to teach him how to wear bra and make-up.
So the consqeunce of using magic in Equestria is different for each person? Now this opens new opportunity to brand new story plots. I like it.
Ask Narcissa Malfoy: Have you ever thought would you prefer having daughter over son?
9497083
Just pretend it’s A Very Potter Musical’s Draco.
With a dataset of three, I maintain my theory that the extent of the transformation is tied to blood purity. That is, pure bloods become ponies and half bloods and muggle born will fall on the anthro spectrum. If magic in humans entered the world when the empire was banished and all ponies turned human, then that would explain why a pure would transform more than one with only a little magic blood.
Ask Luna: Princess, have you seen more beings in the dreamscape? Can you tell what and where they are? Lovegood, how do you feel about Harry turning into a mythical creature, even by wizarding standards?
I’m onto you Lovegood. You moon girl, you.
9497003
The inside of the barrier is made to block those inside from seeing out, to prevent the students from
practicingpanicking over being in another world.EDIT: Yeah well, buck you too Auto-correct!
:CENSORED:
9497272
True, but from inside the barrier they can use a telescope from the astronomy tower to look far away and maybe see if it's all snow or something else
9497312
If it is true that the barrier that covers the entire castle blocks people from seeing through then how by all the gods in all the worlds can they see through the un-see-through-able barrier from the astronomy tower? It's a sucking DOME! If it was just a curtain you could see over by going high enough then King I-can-plucking-fly Sombera would have just gone over it and they'd all be sporting fancy new headgear already.
Who the hell replies to someone saying, "I acknowledge that what you say is true, but what you said was completely not true"?!
:CENSORED:
9497523
Sorry if maybe I missed the part is a dome, I read mainly is 'protections' I can miss things
9497523 Language please. This story is rated E.
Okay but why are you identifying Draco with female pronouns if he's clearly uncomfortable as a female? I mean yeah it's Draco but like... Rude?
9497778 If it were first person from Draco's perspective, I would continue to use male pronouns. Perspective is everything.
9497537
The barrier was placed partly to prevent those inside from seeing outside. That would include the astronomy tower and those that can fly either naturally like pegasi as well as those using brooms.
After all, if they looked up at the stars and noticed different constellations that would be a giveaway.
I really like this part of the story. Always in the Harry Potter series, I wanted to see things from the Slytherin perspective.
Or even just Malfoy's perspective, if Rowling really didn't feel like introducing that many characters. It would have given him a lot more depth. (Though in later books, I really did like his character and what she did with him. I just feel that more could have been done overall.)
9497272 Language please.
So is Draco gonna grow some scales?
Really is a really toxic environment if if all if now most of Slivering only consider people with what they can do for you and only that, would explain why it's always so rotten in that house; I am pretty sure they will readily make a deal with Sombra if given haft the chance just out of spite and and won't see that he had no intention in holding his end of the deal. I though that Malfoy turning into a girl was a nice touch, I wonder how his full transformation will turn out for him.
The combination of Hermione stuck half-way and Draco turning into a girl worries me.
Both of those elements are good on their own (and I do like gender-bending fiction) but you're piling so much into this story that I worry it'll have trouble doing any of it well. (Not to mention that it's hard to establish a solid atmosphere in a story when you put in multiple elements which carry their own existing preconceptions.)
That said, I do like the impression I'm getting that you're setting Draco up to be a character who gets a significant amount of screen time. You've done a good job of writing him as an interesting character. (Though Sombra's lurking presence does worry me. It feels like an impending turn toward a darker story in the name of drama, when there are other ways to keep things interesting and doing so generally crushes the nuances that have been developing in favour of more crudely hewn narrative elements.)
I may be forgetting something about this story in particular, but I think you meant Head Girl.
9498720 Ack! Yes, Head Girl. Fixed, thank you!
That's an amazingly interesting view on The Slytherin house, kudos. They're not nice, but not monsters either. Just pragmatic.
I'd never be one though, not my style
9497860
That spoiler is devious, I approve! I'd love to see her becoming a young draconess - would be appropriate, don't you think?
9491527
The problem I have with what you're saying is that your claims about what he was saying seem to directly contradict what he actually wrote. Consider your claim that "he was saying 'You have to either have HP characters go into another world or have other world characters land in HP world, nothing else works' when the entire point of this story was to break out of the norm that is those two options." Then compare that to what he said:
The first two are generally what you want to aim for, because it gives you ready-made reader interest. The last one is the riskiest, because it's most prone to coming across as "a lazy author who wrote their pet story but couldn't be bothered to come up with their own characters". (But, at the same time, if you are good at creating and hooking readers on a feel of your own design, it has the potential for the highest reward because it's what makes some of the most memorable fics.)
The most obvious difference is that you painted him as offering only two possibilities, where he is clearly offering three. He does say that the first two options are what most people should aim for most of the time, because the third option is high-risk, but it's also high-reward (he says). His argument is that, for various reasons he articulates, you ran afoul of the risk. That's entirely different from "the option you chose is totally forbidden".
Sorry for the late reply; I stepped away from the site for a few days.
9501338 Surmising: "there's only three ways this can go, and the one you chose you have executed poorly" was what I got from his/her comment, which is why I acted as I did. Forgive me for being defensive of my work. Like I said elsewhere, I will accept all suggestions for technical mistakes made in the writing of this, but simply stating that my story premise is bad because it doesn't fit their definition of a good story is something I will not stand for.
—Yeats
If you'll excuse me, I have dreams to spread.
9501355
That's a much better summary than your earlier ones. However, "Premise was executed badly" =/= "Premise is a bad one". And though you may not consider them "technical mistakes", he certainly did give specific criticisms.
That said, I do appreciate your not carrying a grudge; perhaps you are too eager to dismiss criticism beyond spelling and grammar errors, but having skin too thick is better than too thin.
Part of me wants Sombra to break down the wards, so that McGonagall will use Piertotum Lokomotor. I didn’t see all of Harry Potter, but I saw that scene and god was it badass.
9505334
I always wanted to use that spell and the other teachers look at her funny
I just realized, what changes did Dumbledore suffer? Alas, Albus' wards render the stars invisible
Was not expecting tg. I was thinking Draco was going to find a cutie mark when he said "Not even Harry bloody Potter can besmirch my destiny!"
I desperately wish there were a way to film this scene. Door shuts. Slow, reverse dolly-zoom back away from the closed bathroom door for 20 seconds. Girly shriek. Smash cut to next scene.
10381212
Karma strikes
Great... a chapter skipped.