Draco awoke to something tickling his ankles. At first he kicked at whatever it was with his foot, as he normally did when something was bothering him and he was trying to sleep. But the tickling was incessant and wouldn't stop, so finally he pulled himself awake, blinking blearily at his surroundings. There was a large fireplace, a comfy sofa with overstuffed cushions and a mouse on his foot.
So much for waking up in reality.
As he became less groggy and more awake and his vision was cleared of the fuzziness of sleep, he realized that the mouse on his foot wasn't a mouse at all. At least, not any mouse he had ever seen. It was covered with grey fur, but atop its head sat two red pigtails.
"Weasley?" Draco said incredulously, looking at the very tiny mouse form of the girl Weasley. This really shouldn't have surprised him at all. Blaise was a rabbit and Daphne was a flower, so why wouldn't Ginny Weasley be a mouse? But why was she in his alternate reality at all? He barely paid her any mind in reality, let alone in his mind. In fact, he and Potter worked with the ginger-haired girl quite often and Draco hadn't spoken much more than a few words to her in three years.
"Great," came Ginny's small, tinny voice. Peering closer, Draco saw that she wasn't actually covered in fur, but rather she was wearing a grey dress that only resembled fur. There was a tail sewn into the back and a headband on her head adorned with grey ears. Her nose came to a point that was fastened on with a band. It was ridiculous. "You're awake."
"I doubt that," Draco muttered, plucking the ginger off his foot and raising her to eyelevel. She squirmed and crossed her arms, the look on her face positively deadly. "What in Merlin's name are you doing?"
"It's not what I'm doing, Malfoy, it's what you're doing. If you stay here any longer, you'll never get out of Wonderland," Ginny the Mouse said, waving a hand in front of her false nose and pointing towards the fireplace that was puffing out purple smoke. "You'll be higher than a kite and never find your way out. Bloody Zabini, getting all that smoke-weed from the Caterpillar. Never knows when to stop."
"Right," Draco said with a nod, holding back a roll of the eyes. This was all so ridiculous, Draco could hardly believe it. Standing up on tingly legs with Ginny the Dormouse in his grasp, he made for the doorway at the back of the room. Oddly, though it felt as though he'd been asleep for ages, the door was still swinging back and forth. Pushing through it, he found himself in a large kitchen – larger than the tiny house could possibly hold. Going over to the counter, he set the Weasley mouse on the surface and rubbed the smoke from his eyes. He looked at her as he did so. "Why are you helping me?"
"Why?" Ginny said, tilting her head. She seemed to be pondering the question, as though she hadn't even had a reason to do so in the first place. "Well… Because you want me to, I suppose."
"That doesn't make any sense," Draco furrowed his brow and folded his arms. "I wasn't even awake."
"You probably would never wish for my help consciously," Ginny the Mouse said, pacing back and forth on the tile counter. She kept tripping in the grout edges and smoothing her dress with one hand while the other fiddled with her false nose. "But you want out of this place, don't you? And I can help."
"You're a mouse," Draco pointed out. To prove his point, he set his finger straight up beside her, indicating that she was hardly taller than his largest finger. She gave a squeak of indignation and kicked his finger. Surprisingly, it hurt more than he'd thought it would. Pulling it away, he glared at her. "Not to mention, a Weasley."
"Well then!" Ginny nattered angrily. "If you don't want my help, then just get out of here by yourself, then! You'll come back when you can't find your way out!"
Before Draco could say anything to protest, she was scurrying across the tile faster than she ought to have moved at that size. She leapt from the edge of the counter and disappeared into a hole at the bottom of the lowest cupboards. He shook his head. This was getting queerer and queerer. But she had done him a favor; he was out of the hazy living room and thus the tingling and sleepiness was beginning to wear off considerably. With a deep breath, he made his way to a small door at the back of the kitchen that lead to what Draco could only assume was the house's backyard.
As he pushed the door open, he was only a bit surprised to see that the house seemed to have been transported from the hilltop to a dense forest that blocked out any sunlight from above. The trees were twisted and gnarled and seemed to be reaching for one another across a dimly lit path. Acknowledging his curiosity, Draco went to the edge of the house and peered around to the front, but there was no sign of the garden that had been there before nor the hill or even the white picket fence. It was gone and replaced with gloom.
Fantastic.
Without a guide, Draco found himself wandering the trail, batting away insects that whispered dark secrets in his ears that only he knew himself and would never repeat. It was only further indication that this was all in his mind; surely the insects of another world wouldn't know what was in his head, would they?
The trail seemed to wind on and on and Draco felt as though he wasn't getting anywhere fast. A broom would have been useful at this point, so that he could at least get above the canopy of trees and see where it was he was going. Just as he was starting to get dreadfully bored and a might bit tired, he caught sight of the rabbit-impersonator that was Blaise.
"Blaise!" Draco shouted, but when Blaise disappeared around the bend of the trail, Draco began to get irritated. This entire dream world, or whatever it was, was beginning to wear on his nerves. Daphne was not a flower, Blaise was not a stupid rabbit, the Weasley girl was not an annoying mouse and this entire place did not exist. So why did he have to put forth so much effort to get out of here? It was entirely not worth his while. This was all Potter's fault for making him help him sort those stupid books.
Two great, hulking beasts came trudging around the corner, their dark eyes blinking with little intelligence. Draco started until he realized who it was dressed in ill-fitting shirts and shorts that were nearly as ridiculous as the ones he wore (if only because of whom was wearing them.)
"Greg! Vince! Thank god," Draco said. Normally he would not have been at all happy to see either of them since they were both dumb as a sack of bricks and Crabbe was all corpsified, but it was at least nice to see a familiar face that wasn't sprouting from flowers or wearing a stupid furry costume.
"'Lo, Draco," said Goyle, rubbing the top of his head. He seemed confused by something which wasn't exactly surprising since most things confused Goyle. Draco eyed Crabbe cautiously. It was strange seeing his dead school chum like this. Well, that and the last time Crabbe and he had spoke, nasty words had been exchanged and Draco had secretly wished that Crabbe would drop down dead, which had happened shortly after. "We were looking for something."
"Great," Draco said, glancing about. He wondered if the Crabbe in his mind would do something stupid, like attack him. It would be just his luck that he didn't have his wand to defend himself. But he had one advantage. Draco was quick when he wanted to be and Crabbe was stupid and slow. "Me too."
"Only thing is," said Crabbe, his eyes drooping as though he were in some sort of dazed half-sleep. "I don't remember what it was."
"Neither do I," said Goyle, scrunching his forehead. Draco rolled his eyes. Sometimes he was amazed that they ever remembered their own names. "But I think it was this way."
Goyle turned down a side-path off the trail that Draco was fairly positive hadn't been there before. Crabbe trudged after and Draco hesitantly followed. It was better than wandering around the trail with no direction at all. Still, he didn't trust Crabbe as far as he could throw him and Goyle was iffy at best.
"There it is!" Crabbe said suddenly, making Draco jump backwards. They had hardly walked fifty paces and a great manor loomed in front of them. It had been impossible to see in the dense forest with underbrush and a dense canopy blocking the view of anything, but as the path turned to cobblestones, the entire way was lit by sunlight.
"What is it?" Goyle asked, glancing over at his companion. Draco eyed the two with an arched eyebrow.
"A house obviously," Crabbe answered, but he had stopped to gaze up at the manor.
The manor itself wasn't nearly half as large as Draco's own family home, but it was made of white wash stone and had red flags waving from the rooftops and streamers hanging in the windows that made it look more like a miniature castle than a house. The doors were large and on each side of them, they were flanked by the most oddly dressed animals. A Hippogriff paced back and forth in front of the huge, black iron gates dressed in armor and carrying a lance awkwardly in its wing. Draco swallowed. He hated Hippogriffs.
"Who lives there?" Draco asked, but Crabbe and Goyle had already set off down the path and were bowing deeply to the Hippogriff. Draco stood where he was, debating whether or not he even dared to follow. He glanced behind him. Surely the trail lead somewhere else - or else he might get lost and be stuck in this stupid place forever.
"Are you coming?" Crabbe asked, looking back at him. Yes, Crabbe definitely had it out for Draco's neck, if only because Draco subconsciously believed he had killed the boy. Finally with a nod, Draco hesitantly approached the Hippogriff.
"Are you here to see the Duchess as well?" the Hippogriff said and Draco nearly jumped out of his skin. The damn thing talked. Well, that was perfect. It was bad enough that regular Hippogriffs could sense when he was insulting them. This one would know precisely what he was saying. If he had feathers, they would definitely be ruffled.
"Y-yes," Draco said, blinking. He quietly admonished himself for stuttering. Draco didn't stutter. He had faced Death Eaters and Voldemort and a pissed off Potter, but he couldn't face a damn Hippogriff without stuttering? He truly was pathetic. Not to mention he had no idea who the Duchess was and if he really did want to see her or not.
The Hippogriff eyed him expectantly, its eyes slowly narrowing into slits. Draco swallowed before bowing. His back was so stiff as he did so that the discs in his spine popped. When he had straightened again, the Hippogriff shuffled to the side and swung its wing wide to let him pass. Wiping the sweat off his brow with the sleeve of his collared shirt, he quickly hurried passed the beast and after Crabbe and Goyle.
An altogether too-large frog dressed in footmen livery opened the large door for them and Draco eyed it with disgust. A toad dressed in clothes was the last thing that should have been in his imagination; that was certain. It was a revolting concept to be sure. As they were ushered into the foyer of the manor, Draco could hear a great ruckus coming from somewhere down the hall.
"Sit still, you stupid little thing!" shouted a female voice that sounded a bit lower than it ought. Crabbe and Goyle exchanged a curious look before wandering off down the hall and Draco was left with nothing to do but to follow. As he got nearer to the sound, he found himself rubbing at his eyes as they began to water and he was having trouble stifling a sneeze or two.
Coming to the room where all the noise seemed to be coming, Draco recognized another familiar face that he wished wasn't quite so familiar. Millicent Bulstrode was striding around the room, throwing some sort of thick dust into the air. She kept walking back and forth in front of a high chair that held a baby - by far the ugliest little troll Draco had ever seen; and he was pretty sure that it was just that. It definitely had to be the offspring of Millicent.
"Oh, Tweedles!" she cried as she saw Crabbe and Goyle, and she threw black dust into their faces. Both Crabbe and Goyle began to cough and splutter and sneeze and Draco stepped a few paces back, nearly out of the room altogether.
"What did you call them?" Draco asked, eyeing Millicent warily.
"Tweedles!" she said, looking a bit as though he'd insulted her. Wonderland was by far getting odder and odder. Crabbe and Goyle looked back at him.
"Tweedle Dee," said Crabbe, pointing to himself.
"And Tweedle Dum," said Goyle with a grin.
"Oh God," Draco answered with a roll of his eyes. Go figure. They were all some sort of character in this twisted novel of a world. It figured that Crabbe and Goyle would play the stupidest of them all. He should have known it by their matching clothes and the way they linked arms, but he had just thought it one of their many oddities. He decided that only some of the things in this world came from his mind; because the rest were just too absurd for him to think of.
The troll child began to wail and Millicent turned on it and threw black powder into its face. The baby snorted and coughed before laughing and clapping its grubby four-fingered paws together. Millicent seemed pleased.
"Where are you all off to then?" she asked, turning to Crabbe and Goyle. Draco thought of retorting with something sensible, but then decided he would rather stay out of the conversation.
"I'm certain that there was something we were here to tell you," said Crabbe and Goyle nodded along with him. "Something important."
"The Queen!" Goyle said suddenly, startling Draco. Merlin, this was weird. Draco couldn't help but close his eyes and wish as hard as he could that he'd be out of this nightmare soon.
"Yes, what about her?" Millicent demanded, shoving the high chair out of her way rather violently. The troll baby giggled and smashed its fists against the plastic tray. It began to splinter and Draco couldn't help but wince.
"Croquet!" Crabbe said with a grin, as though a light bulb had gone off in his head. A very dim one, that was.
"Yes, what about croquet?" asked Millicent, her face getting a bit red around the edges. Draco rubbed his temples. He was getting an awful headache. Perhaps he could sneak off and lie down for a while, at least until this blew over. He could not deal with three complete morons in one room. He had avoided them as best as he could at Hogwarts; now it seemed they were inescapable.
"The Queen would like to invite you to croquet or something," Draco muttered, recalling a bit of the book he'd read. The troll was supposed to be a pig or something and they were supposed to be cooking soup and the two morons weren't supposed to be there at all, but he supposed throwing a bit of nonsense into this pot wasn't going to make a big difference.
"Yes, exactly right!" Goyle said, nodding at Draco. "Did the Queen give you an invitation, too?"
Before Draco could respond, Millicent had plucked the troll from the high chair, holding it out at arm's length as though it were a disease (and judging from most of the trolls he'd met, he couldn't say that he blamed her). She shoved the child into Crabbe's arms before rushing past Draco.
"I must go before I lose my head!" Millicent said, disappearing out the door. Crabbe and Goyle nodded.
"Yes, us too!" Goyle said, pushing past Draco. Crabbe shoved the troll at Draco and Draco barely had time to register what was happening before they were gone and he holding the troll by the scruff of its shirt. Draco blinked at it. It blinked back. Then it grinned, exposing all its yellow sharp teeth and Draco quickly set it on the floor, taking three steps back from it.
Knowing troll children, it would likely survive on its own. And if it didn't well... that was probably a good thing, anyway.
Draco left the room and went down the hall and back out into the open air. There was, however, no one in sight. Not even the dreaded pacing Hippogriff was there. Fantastic. He was left alone again without anywhere to go and no idea how to get out of this absurdly annoying place. With a grunt, he started off down the steps and back onto the cobblestone path. Before long he was back in the woods - both literally and figuratively.