Introduction:
Imagine a world filled with fantasy and magic to the brim, and several really hot guys. Now stop, cease your thoughts, because it already exists. Harry Potter is more than you think, at least the story is anyway. But continueing with the purpose of this story, welcome to the demention of dementia. This is a story of transformation in finding yourself, and unfortunately it is not the easiest path we must take. That is why, you may find to your amusement, this story is amazingly shocking. Yes. It must be hormones.
The Transformation
by demetre ironhilt
Mirrors are evil, seriously, I thought. They show you what you don't want to see, or at least what I don't want to see, myself. I don't look that bad, not really. But compared to the other girls at my school, I was definitely lacking in physical appeal. Maybe its because I run my mouth of far too often, and people think that I'm a know it all, but deep down inside I'm still that little girl trying to prove herself to everyone else. I'm fifteen years old. I look... bleh. There are no words to describe.
I twirled a piece of bushy hair around my fingers. It felt like thistles and pine needles prickling my fingers. I frowned at myself. I was not pleased. I attempted to tame the wild mess with a brush but it only made it worse.
I looked closer in the mirror only to find an enormous zit on my chin. Not exactly appealing, having a big, red, itchy mark on your face and not having the power to do anything about it.
There were bags underneath my eyes from lack of sleep. I have a lible excuse though, I was studying for my potions exam. Maybe five hours of studying was too much. Maybe two hours of sleep was not enough.
I stood up and looked at my reflection. My body wasn't that bad. But then again, its not like I could see it from under my baggy uniform. Fashion was in definite need of an update. I'd been wearing the same exact uniform every day for the past five years. I stared at my shoes. Mary Janes were a thing of the past.
Despite my serious disapointment in my appearance, I smiled back at myself. At least I still had the ability to pretend I was happy about it.
I picked up my grey bag loaded with books and homework assignments and headed off to Transfiguration. My wand was lying on my desk. I picked up the tool most precious to me and again set off.
I past a group of Slytherins on the way to the classroom, to my dismay. Pansy Parkinson flipped her blond hair over her shoulder and smirked. I ignored her menacing glare but she followed me like a lioness hunting her prey.
"What is that horrendous thing on your face, Hermione?" she sneered.
"Its called a pimple. You've had them before. Does the beginning of the year pictures ring a bell?" I retorted. She stopped in her tracks but I kept moving.
I was the first to enter the classroom, as usual. Ron and Harry were off somewhere doing who knows what with their time. They should be studying probably, but nobody's perfect I guess.
I pulled out some clean parchment and a quill and sat attentively even though the lesson hadn't begun. The first bell rang. Neville meandered in and sat down next to me.
"Hey Hermione," he said dully.
"Hey. Why the sullen face?"
"Malfoy." He rusted his chin on top of his bag. "I don't think that I can take anymore humiliation from him. Its driving me insane."
"He does seem to have that effect on people. I don't know what to tell you to do. Maybe if you practice a few charms, that could do the trick to keep him away. Remember that one we learned last week? 'Emanuele Viggo', I think it was called. Its perfect..."
I noticed that Neville was drifting off as I continued with my speech, like most people did when I was talking to them. He didn't tune me off that often, he was actually one of the few people who listened to me when I spoke. Whatever Malfoy did, it must have really pissed him off good this time.
To speak of the devil, the blond haired boy entered the room with his gang of cronies following closely behind. I rolled my eyes at him and returned to my perfect composure. As the last bell sounded with a 'whumph', Harry and Ron stumbled in, late of course.
Ron gave me a small wave and a toothy grin, but I could hardly contain the imediate smile that formulated on my face. The two may have been my best friends, but they definitely had a weird side that came out a little too often.
McGonigall launched into a speech on transfiguring towels into so many pairs of socks. She pushed up her half moon spectacules and I noted every piece of important information I deemed necessary.
"Now take your towels, and try to turn them into socks," she ordered.
"I'll go first," Neville offered, taking one of the two towels on our table we shared. He looked over at me for direction. "You have an eyelash," he said, pointing to my cheek.
I wiped my cheek with my index finger, and looked only to find a small balck eyelash resting at the tip.
"Make a wish," Neville said, before turning back to his towel.
I sighed involuntarily. I knew exactly what I'd wish for. I closed my eyes and silently told myself what I wanted most of all at that moment. I picked up my wand, gave it a wave and easily turned my towel into four pairs of bright yellow socks. Dobby would be so pleased.
Meanwhile...
I snapped my head up quickly. A moment of inspiration entered my body, filling me with warmth. I could almost hear the angels singing 'Hallelujah' in the background of Transfiguration classroom.
"Draco, you okay?" Pansy asked me.
"Fine," I answered nonchalantly.
A masterpiece... By the end of the day I could be a success.
Back in Hermione Land, eight hours later:
"Are you going to chew before you swallow that food, Ron?" I teased later that day at dinner.
"No," he replied, a mouth filled with food.
"You're disgusting."
"You know you love it."
I began to collect my things and head out the door.
"Where you going so early, Mione?" Harry asked.
"The library. To study."
The halls were dark, darker then usual. I looked around in confusion. The library was just around the corner, but something didn't feel right in the pit of my stomach. There was no one in the hall at all, not even a ghost.
A hand grabbed me by the collar and pulled me into an empty classroom. I started to scream in surprise.
"Don't scream," said a familiar voice.
"Let go of me, Malfoy," I commanded. He released me. "What was that for?"
"I have a proposition to make with you."
"Whatever, don't waste my time."
"Don't bother leaving, the door's locked."
I tapped my foot impatiently. "What is going on?"
"Sit down. sit down. Make yourself comfortable, this is a dungeon not a torture chamber," he said in a phony french accent.
"Now you're starting to scare me."
"Do not be afraid," he drawed out. He pulled the chair out and shoved underneath me so I was forced to sit down. "You want to be beautiful, right?" He continued the accent.
"What do you care?"
"I," his hand was on his chest as he pointed to himself, "can make you beautiful."
"Why would you do that?"
"Because... For reasons unknown. Don't worry about it. But I want you to be my project. There's only one thing zat I want in return."
"What?"
"Ze credit. But you do not have a choice anyway. Stand, lets see ze damage." He pulled me up by my arm and took a step back, putting his hand on his chin. "Hmm, zis may take while. But it is possible, contrary to what ze people think."
"Hey-" I interjected.
"Shut up, shut up, shut up! Do not interupt, ze master." He fell into silence. I stood uncomfortably. "Aha!"
I jumped and he pulled out his wand. "We will start, with ze eyebrows. Ze are enormous, like a wildabeast." He spat. " Filthy animals..."
With the muttering of several words, a irridescant light shot out of his wand, wich soon turned into a thick glue.
"What is that stuff?" I asked, as an unpleasant scent filled my nostrils.
"Shh. Now sit." He took my head with his hand, tilting my head to the appropriate angles. His wand came extremely close to my face, more importantly, my eyebrows. The substance sqeezed out cleanly over several parts of my eyebrows. He stopped, muttered some more words and before I knew it an excruciating burning sensation was on my face. I kept quiet as my eyes watered.
The glue disapeared. He moved onto my hair. He flipped it up several times.
"What is Zis? Flat, limp, unhealthy, burnt, like twigs!" He spat again. "I hate nature..."
I stared at him skeptically. Had he gone crazy? Was this some sort of ploy to make me look even worse then I already did? Then I realized that that would be even too difficult for Malfoy to manage. I resumed to letting him continue.
He worked for three hours. At one point he pulled out a muggle makeup kit and I had to stop myself from laughing out loud. He applied everything, even things I didn't even know existed. I lost all feeling in my legs.
"Are you done yet?" I asked impatiently.
"Almost," he said as he laughed maliciously. "Now stand!"
With a loud grunt I stood up.
"Zese clothes, will just not work!"
"But they're standard uniform!" I complained.
"No, not on weekends."
"But its tradition..."
"Now look," he convinced. "I'm positive zat when zey planned ze uniforms, zey did not want you to look lik- zis. A little clothing change will be no- thing." He waved his wand for the final time. My clothes formulated into something else, but the light was too dim for me too see. I wondered how he could work in that position.
"Finito! I am ze genius!"
He tugged me over to a full length mirror he must have set up before hand.
Mirrors are not evil. Mirrors are lovely! My eyes grew wide in shock at the sight, I looked nothing at all like before. My hair was straight and a beautiful golden brown color that reached my shoulders. It was smooth, nothing like it had been. He apparently applied some eye makeup that made them stand out more. There was some black eyeliner, mascara that made my eyelashes stand out a mile, and a light blue shadow on my lids. I had on a pale lip stick, and other neccessary facial elements. The outfit he had chosen made me feel extremely feminine and worthy, somehow. I wore a light blue, silky skirt that went down to my knees and a tight white, spaghetti strap blouse that was slightly low cut. And goodbye Mary Janes, hello white, strappy heals.
"This is... wonderful," I exclaimed.
He finally dropped the accent. " I know, I've had it in my mind for a while now."
"How did you do this?"
"Magic, of course," he said simply. " Here are some notes." He handed me a piece of parchment a foot long.
"Thank you so much!" I engulfed him in a hug.
"Excuse me, but the little happy moment is over. I have places to be," he said snobbishly. He left the room. I laughed out loud, finally. This was the most ironic thing that has happened to me in quite a while.
I left the class room as well, dodging students throughout the busy halls as I tried to make it back to the common room. I must admit, there were more than several pairs of eyes watching me as I went.
"Password," the fa lady in the painting asked.
"Kuvilda radilda," I answered hurriedly.
"Are you sure that you're in Gryffindor?" she questioned with a raised eyebrow.
"Yeah," I said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "Its me, Hermione."
"Sure," she whispered, as she swung open.
I barged in, careful not to trip over myself and went up to my room. Lavender and Parvati were in there, talking excitedly about some topic.
"Hey guys," I greeted.
"Woah." Lavender's mouth dropped open.
"What happened?" Parvati said, climbing off her bed and walking over to me.
"Does it look bad?" I asked self consciously.
"Not at all," Lavender said. "How the hell did you pull all this off in three hours?"
"You wouldn't believe me if I told you."
"Ooh, its not fair!" Parvati whined. "We've been trying to get you to let us do this for years! Who did it?"
"Malfoy," I muttered.
They laughed. "No, seriously," came Lavender. I was silent.
"Oh, my god. You're serious."
"Why?" Parvati asked.
"I have no idea. He just kind of forced me into itout of nowhere. It was completely weird." They just stood there staring at me.
"You're barely recognizable," Parvati stated.
I started fidgeting. "I got to do my homework. Talk to you later." A wall of nervousness built up inside of me. What would Harry and Ron think? "Hey guys," I said to them, sitting down on one of the couches. They didn't look up from their chess game, but I heard them mutter their 'hullos'.
I opened the book I carried, and began to read. To my surprise, the novel I grabbed was muggle based and sadly was one of Earnest Hemingway's novels. NOt that he's a horrible writer but his themes were a little depressing. So much death, so much destruction, when would it be over? This led me into the object of thinking about the flaws of humanity and how society would never even out. There would always be a choice, and because of that there would be a loss to someone, ending in unhappiness. I frowned and my previous optimistic perspective turned pessimistic.
Ironically at that moment, Fred and George mischeviously entered the common room, bouncing with joy. They sat down on either side of me and complacently each placed an arm around me. I glanced up at them as they threw my sensitivity off balance.
"Uh... guys?" I asked, raising a perfectly (and magically) plucked eyebrow.
"Yes?" One of the two said.
"What are you doing?"
"Nothing," the other said, peering in closer. I had the sudden feeling that they were not interested in the piece of American Literature I preciously held. I used the book to cover my chest, hardly exposed by the way, and making it look like a natural thing to do.
"How's business?" I asked nonchalontly.
"Okay," said Fred. After a few moments of debatae I was able to distinguish between the two.
"BUt we are having some marketing problems," George mentioned.
"Definitely," Fred aggreed.
"Is there anything I can do to help? I finished all of my homework for the week early," I proposed.
"Actually, we were going to say something about that," Fred thoughtfully said. He waved a hand away. "But that plan is old news. Way old news... Are you thinking what I'm thinking, George?"
"Oh yes... Hermione, how would you like to be the spokesgirl for our new business?"
I laughed. "You want me to model for you?!" I laughed even harder. "That's rich!"
"Not exactly model. Okay, maybe just a little. We're willing to pay. But I'm sure it would make business get a little more widely known," George pleaded. They both put on faces resembling sad little puppy dogs.
"I could use some extra money... And its not like you guys are going to use me as some sex symbol, right?"
They laughed at me. "Of course not," came Fred. "We just need a familiar face to spread the word around Hogwarts. We think that that's where we'll get most of our business anyway." He launched into reasonable business tactics and before I knew it they had me convinced that it would be a harmlessly simple, job.
"Checkmate!" Ron yelled in glee. "Wow, that took longer than I thought. NOw what's this I hear about a modeling career for Hermione?" he said jokingly. He, along with Harry, swung their chairs around to get a clearer view at what they presumptuously thought would be a humorous sight. Ron's playful smirk was wiped off in an instant.
"What happened?" Harry asked, looking just as bright eyed as before.
I answered cautiously, "Some one convinced me to change a few things, so I did."
"You look nice," Ron finally got out.
"Thankyou." Nice? That was all? Three hours with Mafloy, no less, and I looked nice? Uh-uh. I don't think so. I look damn good.
Harry spoke my exact thoughts. "Nice? She looks great."
"Which is exactly why she's perfect for the position," commented George. "Are you free on Saturday, say, mid afternoon?"
"Yeah, I think so. On the quidditch field?"
"Yep, See you there." And with that, the twins left to carry on their usual business of deducting house points.
"Wow, a modeling position? I didn't know that all of this was in you!" Harry exxclaimed incredulously.
"I hid it well. Maybe too well." I resumed to my book which was difficult due to the millions of thoughts running through my mind. Did I just agree to a semi- modeling job? Malfoy really worked wonders. Harry and Ron were talking about the upcoming quidditch match and Hogsmeade weekend.
I read the passage slowly, three times and I still couldn't comprehend any of what I had read. I reluctantly gave up, said my farewells, and headed back to my bed to get some sleep. I found the piece of parchment Malfoy had given me laying on my bed. I read it with interest. There must have been a million do's an don'ts listed in alphabetical order.
It wasn't long at all before I fell asleep. Beauty may be interesting, but it was no transfiguration or charms.
The next morning there was barely any light at all. Dark storm clouds swarmed the mid- morning sun, blocking it out entirely. So much for the quidditch field. Seeing as it was a Saturday, I spent a trivial amount of time preparing myself for my usual introduction. I showered, pulled my hair back into a ponytail, and changed into the normal school uniform. It wasn't like I had anything else to wear anyway. Last night I felt a strange empowerment. The way Ron and Harry had reacted was utterly astounding, and it pleasured me to know that I had the power to make them fall under my spell again. I supose you could say that I was scared of myself, or what I might turn in to. I had no intentions of being compared to the notoriously snotty Pansy Parkinson to save my life. So in keeping to myself, I decided against making myself noticeable. Meaning, no makeup. Malfoy would just have to live with himself.
On my way tothe breakfast hall, I spotted the creater himself. I smiled shyly. "Thanks, Malfoy."
"What was that? Was the mudblood trying to talk to me? Do I not outrank her, Crabbe, Goyle?" He gestured to his two cronies, their dimmer faces chortling in some what confusion.
It wasn't a dream was it? "I was trying to thank you for what you did yesterday. It was a ... erm, nice experience."
Draco's face contorted into disbelief. "Ms. Granger, as much as it would pleasure me to humiliate you at the given oppurtunity, I don't have the stomach to indulge in your girlish fantasies. Tata..."
My eyes grew wide. "You sick perve, I wouldn't think those things about you if some one paid me!" I shrieked in defense. "I'm talking about yesterday afternoon with the makeup and clothes and the list you gave me with all of that advice-"
"I don't know what you're talking about. Maybe you've finally cracked. Potter and Weasel must finally be rubbing off on you," he stated snootishly. Harry and Ron rounded that corner at that precise moment, looking at me laughingly.
I cried out in exasperation, they jumped in surprise. "Are you alright?" Harry asked.
"What in Merlin's name has happened? This is absolutely rediculous!" I paced uncontrollably, throwing my hands in te air as I walked. "It wasn't a dream, because today is Saturday, and I'm supposed to meet Fred and George. And it j-just has to be real. There is no other explanation. And he wanted me to spread the word, so what the HELL is going on?"
Proffessor McGonigall caught me in my one moment of glory. "Ms. Granger, that is quite enough!" She looked at me condescendingly. "Really, I would have thought better from a Head Girl. Never have I heard such vulgar language!"
"I'm sorry, Professor," I reprimanded. "I swear I'll never do it again."
"You've sworn quite enough today," Ron muttered through his teeth. Harry poked him in the ribs, I gave him a scathing look.
"Don't let it happen again," McGonigall bustled off.
"Well I'll be damned," Ron began. "She does have an occasional flaw."
"Stop it Ron," Harry said.