A/N: This story would not have happened without the support, encouragement and incredible efforts of my beta CourtingInsanity. She's amazing and fantastic and I would recommend dropping over and reading her works.
Originally submitted for Creature Fest 2018 and the prompt I selected was Hermione and Draco being partners within the Care of Magical Creatures Department and Hermione gets turned into a fairy. I thank you for reading and hope you enjoy.
Chapter One
"Granger!" Draco Malfoy choked, incredulous. "This is—"
A pitched buzzing interrupted him, and he shook head.
"Sorry, I have to ask: Did you provoke—?"
The buzzing took on an angry shrill, effectively discontinuing his query, though not giving a direct answer…
"And…" His mouth snapped shut as he tried to formulate a follow-up question. "How did this happen?"
The slight feminine figure no more than four inches tall, hovering in mid-air over a large ornate desk, pitched herself forward, transparent wings flapping feverishly, stopping when she was mere inches from his face, flashing her teeth as she chomped on air with her jaw.
He blinked several times, swallowing in disbelief. "One of the fairies bit you…?"
She nodded in vigorous affirmation, wild brown ringlets tumbling around her shoulders and…and…her wings…
"Salazar, Granger…" he breathed, conjuring a chair before plopping down unceremoniously. "This is really…" He shook his head as the tiny Granger form folded her arms over her chest, foot tapping like mad in mid-air.
He could only stare in bewildered and gobsmacked silence.
Hermione Granger—professional, subdued, monotonous wardrobe, imposing and fearless in spite of her usual slight frame—now fluttered in front of him with fairy wings.
He swore loudly, raking a hand through his signature Malfoy pale blond hair. Five minutes prior, he'd been looking for a fairy colony on the other side of the library, he'd rushed at the sound of a crash, and now…
Hermione Granger had been turned into a fairy…
Her hands had migrated to her hips while her foot continued to tap furiously in the air.
He lifted his chair, shuffling closer to better observe this nightmarish conundrum that was now his reality.
She looked to be a wood fairy exactly, if the green curve hugging cloth of a dress that only just covered her modesty was anything to go by.
That, and the flower buds blooming on her shoes, shedding petals, and said petals dissolving into shiny dust, and then vanishing before making contact with any surface.
He released a long puff of air as she started off again with her new form of pitchy communication, flittering dizzyingly here and there across his vision.
"You have to stop moving around like that Granger," he groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. "We need a plan, we need…oh, Merlin! This is a disaster, a problem, and this is so very not good!"
Granger seemed to catch the distress in his voice, and immediately stopped her helter-skelter movements, allowing herself to slowly descend to sit on the edge of the desk, crossing her ankles as they dangled. She tugged at the short skirt of her dress before folding her hands over her lap.
She inclined her head in consideration as he leaned forward for a better inspection, his mind racing faster than he'd ever flown before…
"Ok, Granger," he started, taking a deep breath. "First things first, we need to see if we can communicate—will you mind if I try casting a translation charm over us?"
She shook her head in the negative, curls flouncing across her shoulders as she did, which must have irritated her, because her creamy skin reddened and she released a loud huff as she shoved large sections of her hair behind her ears.
He nodded and moved his wand back and forth between the two of them muttering the incantation as he did.
"Alright, Granger," he said when he was done. "Can you try to say something to me?"
"What would you like me to say?" she asked, looking at him with expectancy and hope.
His eyebrows shot into his hair. There was a little bit of a lag, and he would have to tune out the buzzing sound, but… "Again," he urged. "Say something else."
"Alright then." Her wings fluttered and flapped behind her, lifting her from the desk and moving her closer to his face. The narrowing of her tiny brown eyes was unmistakeable. "How about, I didn't want to come here in the first place." Her hands positioned on her hips again, skin and aura reddening by the second. "I knew," she jabbed a furious finger for emphasis of her foresight, "something bad would happen if we took this assignment."
"Well, sorry Granger, but in my defence…" he trailed off, his mind drawing blank as she fluttered closer…
He dropped his eyes and started to rub his left forearm, detecting an itch from under his long sleeve that he knew was psychological. "Actually, I'm sorry Granger; I'm so very sorry," he apologized, lifting his eyes again, trying to not be too excited as the red in her colouring faded.
He sucked a breath through his teeth. "You're the one who's been working for the Beast, Being and Spirit Division for the last two-and-a-half years, and in the Care of Magical Creature Department for six months before then. I should have deferred to your judgement. I thought fairies…it wouldn't be that hard to deal with. I let the nostalgia of this house cloud my judgement, and I manipulated your emotions so you'd go along with it. I'm sorry, Granger. This…" He waved over her minuscule form. "This is all my fault."
He waited as her hands slowly moved to her sides and the last traces of red faded from her skin. Her mouth twisted as her wings slowed into a controlled and rhythmic beat.
"Well, you wouldn't have been sorted into Slytherin if you didn't have a way with words," she offered, a crooked smile forming across her face. "And I wouldn't have gone along with this if I hadn't felt bad for being late to work, or if I didn't believe deep down on some level that you were right…"
He blinked at her. "What?"
She shrugged a shoulder, turning a delectable pale pink all over as she descended again, settling this time on the arm of his chair.
He stiffened and his heart lurched as the bottom of her shoe skimmed the top of his hand. Merlin, this wasn't going to be easy…for so many reasons…
"You were right," she admitted, so soft he had to strain to distinguish between the translation and her buzzing.
"I've been afraid of Malfoy Manor," she continued. "It haunts my nightmares still, even four years later."
He winced as she wrapped her arms around herself and inclined her head at him.
"I thought in coming back here, I could face the last of my demons once and for all," she confessed. "Then, maybe it could all be laid to rest…"
He bit the inside of his cheek as he considered this, observing that even though she was currently too small to see the spattering of freckles across her nose and cheeks, he could clearly tell when she was making a face at him.
"Well, that makes two of us then, Granger," he said, offering a consolingly wry smile. "And not to shatter this moment of bonding, but we are in quite the predicament here."
"Yes. Yes, we are," she agreed, flapping her wings slowly while sitting on the arm of the chair. "I suppose we ought to start with facts and basis, so, what do you know about fairies, Malfoy?"
He furrowed his brows, and stroked his chin, mentally reprimanding himself for not shaving over the weekend. "Not much, to be honest. I know they're different from Cornish Pixies, and I know enough to distinguish you as a wood fairy…"
He trailed off, cheeks flaming at his incompetence. Merlin, he should have turned down this job, no matter that it was his last available option…
Granger nudged his hand with the toe of her shoe, offering him that encouraging smile that made his insides beam. "Go on," she urged. /p
Draco cleared his throat, feigning an expression of deep concentration. "Truly Granger, a lot of what I may know is from myths and stories. I'd never even encountered a garden gnome until that dinner at the Burrow last month after subbing for Weasley at the pick-up Quidditch match last month."
"Well, start with the obvious then; tell me what you've observed from me already."
"Very well," he sighed in faux lassitude as she toed his hand again.
He cleared his throat, taking in her delicate frame and features. "You're probably about four inches tall, which makes you taller than the average fairy—highly ironic considering your usual stature..."
He smirked in response to her eye roll.
"And...?" she probed, indicating she maintained high expectations of him still, regardless of her current witch-fairy state…
"You have a humanoid body," Draco added. "But all your professional work apparel apparently vanished with your transformation, and your hair fell loose, so I would surmise their clothing and hair is part of the fairy magic somehow." He gave her a questioning look. "Maybe part of their magical distinction…"
A happy sort of soft tinkling sound came from where she sat as she moved her legs in a playful swing, and it had a fuzzying effect on his brain…
Flowered shoes…
Oh!
"Like I said, you're a wood fairy, which I'm basing off the fact your…erm…dress is green, your shoes have magical flower buds that bloom and then shed their petals, but they dissolve into fairy dust before making contact with a surface."
"Right," Granger acknowledged, pointing back to her wings. "And what colour are my wings?"
"They're transparent," he answered, reaching for far back memories of stories in forgotten recesses of his mind. "Water fairies are blue, then?"
"I'd say more blue-green," she shrugged. "And they look more like Pixie wings, to be honest."
Draco nodded in acknowledgment. "It makes me wonder if your magic is now fairy magic, or if your magical core is still the same…"
"Which I'm not ready to test," Hermione cut in with a sharp yank on the hem of her dress skirt. "At least, not yet anyways," she admitted in a softer tone.
Draco considered her request, it seemed reasonable enough for now, all things considered, and he could understand her hesitation…Fairy magic was minimal in comparison…
"You could understand me," he added, letting the witch-fairy know that the magic question had been dropped, for now… "I couldn't understand you without the translating charm, which worked, by the way. I hadn't entirely expected that to work," he confessed.
"Neither did I," she agreed, perking up and crossing one ankle behind another. "To be honest, I'm not sure how much of that is from me already being a human, or if more domesticated and docile fairies have a system of communication with neighbouring humans."
"I'll be sure to jot that thought down for us the soonest opportunity I have, Granger," he teased, rubbing his left arm again, an action that hadn't gone unnoticed by her, he observed.
She'd yet to say anything about it anytime she'd caught him in the six months of working with her, though, and he hadn't decided yet if he was more grateful or felt almost slighted by her silent ponderings…
"You change colours," he blurted, startling her into the air. "Sorry, sorry…just popped into my head. You seem to change colours according to your feelings."
That shade of pink shone from her form again as she dropped back to the arm of his chair, and he could see that she had started chewing on her bottom lip.
It was a very appealing colour indeed, but it couldn't lead to anything good to question if it was from simple embarrassment at this new level of self-exposure, or…
"Yeah," she breathed. "I'm having to fight off a lot of instinctual urges. It seems I'm only able to process limited range of emotions at a time."
"How limited?"
Granger shrugged a shoulder. "Maybe two?" She didn't sound fully certain. "One emotion or overwhelming thought defers, or surrenders I guess you could say, if the emerging one is strong enough." She sighed. "It feels like I'm at war with myself as to which emotion is stronger."
He considered her before deciding to lift a tentative hand to her, revelling in the silk of her hair as he rested a finger on her shoulder. "I can't apologize enough, Granger," he murmured, hoping to convey all the empathy possible in this simple act.
"It's not your fault, Malfoy," she said, shifting her shoulder to nudge his finger. "You didn't know where the fairies were hiding, same as me, and you didn't order him to bite me, right?"
"Right," he chuckled nervously, pulling back his finger. He carded the now unoccupied hand through his hair, noting it couldn't compare in silkiness… "How did this happen, Granger?" he asked, forcing himself to focus on the massive problem…
She sighed. "Well, when you gave me the brief from the Aurors about the fairy infestation, my first hypothesis was that it would be wood fairies, looking for places darker and cooler with the coming of the summer months…"
"And you didn't think it important to inform me of your assumptions before we left the office?" he demanded, arching a brow at her.
The witch-fairy turned a deep shade of pink, and this time he knew it was for shame that she'd withheld something from her partner. They'd made it their practice to share any theories with each other before setting off on assignments—at Hermione's own insistence.
She fluttered her wings, ascending to look him directly in the eye. "I sort of tunnelled in my thinking when you started arguing for us taking the assignment. Didn't think more about the types of fairies until I thought I heard something on that bookshelf." She pointed right, then looked back at him.
"And when I started moving books around, I felt a sharp clamp on my finger, then…" She snapped her mouth shut, waving her hands up and down, indicating her form.
"Are they still back there?" he asked, urgency flooding his senses as he rose from his conjured seat.
"Afraid not," Hermione answered, shaking her head. "They must have scattered while I transformed, I searched the bookshelf just after, but couldn't find anything."
He nodded, sitting back down, folding his hands over his lap. "What was the crash?"
Her entire form flushed that deep pink again, and he found himself very keen to make note of it later.
"A vase on your shelf," she murmured, flushing deep pink down to her feet. "White and blue with gold crowing, looked suspiciously Elizabethan…"
"Probably because the infernal thing was." Draco arched a brow and gave a dismissive wave, cupping his hands out, as a dark grey overcame the pink in her skin, her wings slowed and she descended.
"Granger." He brought his hands inches away from his face when she sank dejectedly into his open palms. "Hey, hey," he soothed. "There's no need for this. The vase was an ostentatious effort to pacify the first Lucius Malfoy for rejecting his hand in marriage, and, frankly, I think he should have blown it to pieces when it first arrived more than four centuries ago," he quipped.
She sniffed and met his eyes, allowing him to take in the full measure of devastation she couldn't hide, much as he knew she would have liked to.
"I can assure you, Granger, it's nothing so important it merits you fretting like this," he tried again, giving her a playful poke in the ribs.
Something in her expression upturned and he chuckled, poking her again.
"Come on then, Granger, grey isn't your colour. Silver's better," he countered. "You know, because of all the silver linings you're famous for finding and all that…"
The grey faded in her aura, lighting a wicked spark in Draco's mind.
He poked her again. And again. And again, in rapid succession and in different spots until she was a radiant gold, protecting her midsection with arms wrapped tightly around her waist and her fairy laughter reverberated all around the manor library.
Her wings beat rhythmic and happy, lifting her from his cupped hands, seemingly beyond her control. "Thanks, Malfoy," she beamed. "This emotional thing is going to be arduous to say the least," she finished with a slight furrow of her brow.
He gave a dismissive wave to keep his hands from clenching at the loss of warmth from her touch. "Speaking of, Granger," he deflected. "Anything you can add to our wealth of knowledge?" he clipped, shoving his regrettably unoccupied hands into his pockets. His heart sank as her brows furrowed even tighter. "Anything like why you changed in the first place, or how to change you back?"
"Nothing comes to mind immediately," she confessed, absently drumming her fingers against the bare skin of her legs, where there would usually be coverage in the form of pants, a dress or a skirt...
Draco swallowed hard, missing the first of it when she spoke again.
"...but, I..." she stopped short, pressing her lips into a thin line, as was her way of communicating displeasure with herself. "The thing is," she finally resumed, once again turning that deep shade of pink. "Newt doesn't say all that much about fairies, and I personally haven't given them much more than a passing thought beyond the fact they exist. I've certainly never come across any case studies like this in my readings prior—you?" she queried, a hopeful lilt in her face.
Draco shook his head. "Not even in fairy stories or myths," he added as he grinned and gestured around the room. "But, the Malfoy library rivals that of Hogwarts, so, I'd say we're in a good place to start looking for some answers—probably how we should have started this day in the Ministry archives to be honest," he supplied sardonically.
He raised his wand and cleared his throat, preparing to take full advantage of the blood magic that so deeply ran through every vein of this ancient mansion, when a golden beaming caught his attention.
Granger stared at him in such wide-eyed wonder, he couldn't help the chuckle even as he proffered his available hand to her.
"Books are about to start flying, Granger," he murmured, leaning his head to give the impression of sharing a secret as she allowed herself to drop in his hand. He moved his appendage back and level to his shoulder and kept his voice low. "You should have a front-row seat to a fantasy come to life."
She tossed a look back at him, flapping out of his hand, but to his extreme pleasure, she kept close, hovering just over his shoulder.
He cleared his throat again and with a booming command, called out for books with any reference to fairies. He kept his bold stance beside the desk as books and tomes pulled and flew from the shelves, swirling and twirling in the air to avoid collision with the Malfoy heir, arranging and stacking themselves on the large desk.
When this enchanted dance had completed and the books now lay in several stacks on the desk, he turned to give Hermione a side look, and proceeded to chuckle at her gobsmacked expression.
"Wow," she breathed, sinking to his shoulder, awestruck gaze tracing over the shelves of the vast library, before she seemed to recover, flush deeply and tuck several curls behind an ear. "How shall we do this?" she asked, the insinuated question of how this would work with her current status hanging in the air between them.
"Well, I suggest we divide and conquer," Draco volunteered. "I'll shrink books down to your size and you can be looking for cases of fairy transformations and undoings, and I'll research what to do about fairy infestation..."
She threw him a questioning look that he merely shrugged his shoulders at.
With an indignant huff, she lifted herself from his shoulders, changing from red to pink. He swallowed a laugh, continuing to explain.
"We still have an infestation problem to take care of," he said, pulling a few tomes from the first stack, jerking his head to a large table with chairs in the centre of the room. "So, that's what I'll be focusing on, since that's the problem that go us in this mess to begin with."
He conjured a size-proportionate desk and stool for Granger (being mindful of her wings), shrinking one tome, several parchment rolls, and a self-inking quill as she sat primly, pressed her knees together and crossed her ankles. He chortled to himself as he opened his first tome, drawing some optimism from the simple act of Granger doing something so incredibly…Granger…as they started their separate research topics.
Draco slammed another tome closed, releasing an angry growl, throwing himself back in his chair, and burning metaphorical holes in the ceiling with this glare.
"Nothing again?" Granger queried, disappointment heavy in her question.
"No! Bloody buggering sh—"
Granger start speaking, making nonsensical sounds, obviously attempting to blare out his irritated rant.
He snapped upright, throwing his glare across at her, waving at the stacks of untouched volumes on the desk in the corner. "I didn't know this many books mentioning fairies even existed! A magical being I've not so much as given more than a passing thought to in my entire life, and there are this," he jabbed the air in the direction of the desk, "many books referencing this infinitesimal being?!"
Granger soared from her desk, closing the distance between them, stopping to hover right in front of his face. "Malfoy, I…I know…" she started, voice low and soothing, skin its usual shade of cream, but something about it glowed, emitting an intangible and inexplicable warmth. "It's discouraging, I haven't found anything either. We can't give up yet—there are still so many volumes to search through."
"Exactly, Granger. 'So many volumes'…" He rubbed his left arm, feeling that itch again. "We could have weeks of research ahead of us, and I have no idea how this is going to be explained to…everyone in your life." He willed her to understand with the depth in his gaze. "You have people Granger, and this will be taken as my fault for accepting the assignment in the first place, which is true, so they'd be right. Salazar, I'll be fired and that will be it. This was the only place I could get hired in Britain, and I'll have to relocate, again. I can't go back to France, so I'll have to find something in Italy or Spain, or…"
He trailed off, heart racing, no longer able to refute the pull of the downward spiral.
He was sinking. Down-down-down…
Warmth pressed into his neck. Like warm silk.
Nuzzling and pressing.
And there was a muffled tinkling.
He blinked several times as the warmth pressed and started to travel.
Tracing up his jawline until reaching his hair, and he finally released Granger had been embracing him, the best that she could with her current stature.
Granger was how threading tiny, delicate fingers through his hair with feather-light touches, whispering indistinct words, as the melody of her voice was drowned out by the buzzing of her fairy voice.
He turned his face, an unspoken question to see her and she fluttered back to the front of his face.
"I was actually getting ready to suggest an idea," she ventured, offering him a half smile as she waited for confirmation to proceed.
"Right," she started, clasping her hands together as he nodded. "I think we can buy ourselves about a month by writing Harry and Ron separate letters saying there was an incident involving Polyjuice Potion, and I really don't want any visitors."
He made a face. "That'll work?"
She shrugged a shoulder, turning that dark pink again. "It's happened once before, and I think…well…it's worth a shot, Malfoy."
"Alright," he straightened in his seat, stroking his chin. "You write the letters, I'll get them back to normal size and…" He canted his head, biting the inside of his cheek. "There's an owl at my flat. We could send them off there."
He released a long, nervous puff of air while she considered the wording of his sentence.
"We?" she asked, allowing the implications to dangle.
He grasped at the invisible tendril. "Yes, 'we'," he affirmed. "You probably shouldn't stay in your flat where anyone you've usually allowed can get through your wards. You definitely can't adjust them, because that will only raise suspicion. And we're not sleeping at the Manor."
She paled as she nodded slowly.
"Well, let's get to it then," she murmured, turning to flutter back to her conjured desk.
That Granger glow radiating from her creamy skin again.