The Boy Who Was A Girl:

Author's Notes: I'm trying to keep Draco in character, even if he is now a she. And she's keeping her name, mostly because I've had my fill of Draco being called Dracina or Jasmine/Angelica/Kakalinamarika or whatever. I'm afraid that if I start down that slippery slope the next thing you know Draco will be a gorgeous Veela-girl with a mysterious past and silver eyes flecked with gold that change color when the moon is waning gibbous. Yeah, so anyway! The bout of hysterics are, I think, rather IC for a boy who thought he was dying from a Hippogriff scratch. I'd like to know someone else's take on it though. *hint hint* Why are you still reading my author notes anyway? Go read the story!

Disclaimer: The characters in this story belong to J.K. Rowling. I'm merely borrowing them for the time being.

During the rest of the summer, Camilla and Narcissa became allies in the battle to transform Draco from a spoilt male heir into a polite young lady. Needless to say it was a long, tiring war with many casualties, including most of the knickknacks in the parlor which had been shattered during one of Draco's many temper tantrums. In exchange for her new Firebolt, Draco agree to grow her hair out to her waist and to learn the cosmetic charms needed in order to style it and keep it healthy. And the Quidditch tickets meant she was (eventually) coaxed into using hair removal potion on her legs, arms, and underarms. To Draco's intense displeasure, she discovered that the potion burned something awful, but there was nothing to be done about it after she'd already agreed.

Oddly enough, no one had warned her about the potions' side effects. How her mother could forget to mention the hair removal potion caused extreme agony was beyond her, but she suspected it had something to do with the fact no sane person would use it if they actually knew how much it hurt beforehand.

Getting Draco into dresses and skirts, however, posed a problem. It took a hefty raise in her allowance to persuade her to even try to wear the delicate, expensive dresses Narcissa picked out for her and a great deal of sweets to get Draco to learn how to walk in high heels. Eventually, Draco herself was determined to figure out how to walk in stilettos without breaking her neck; after all, it would be awfully embarrassing if a Malfoy couldn't figure out how to do something so simple. The sly taunts Camilla aimed her way when she stumbled in her new shoes only made her try harder.

Dancing was a bit more difficult. Draco always ended up leading no matter how hard she tried not to. They wasted a whole week in the attempt to re-educate her and in the end simply resolved to let Draco partner with a pushover if she ever needed to attend a ball.

The most challenging thing Draco encountered was learning how not to speak her mind. For all that she was a Slytherin, Draco was actually quite honest. Brutally so, even. If she thought someone was a disgrace to wizarding kind she said so and if Granger was a mudblood, who was she to tiptoe around the word? However, Camilla and Narcissa didn't quite see things her way. They spent hours at a time coaching Draco how to engage in the meaningless, polite conversation required of an aristocratic woman and how to hold her tongue even when she was in a temper. Draco ended up with a new potions kit to reward her efforts and quite an expensive one at that.

When Camilla tried to bribe her into changing her name, Draco steadfastly refused. It was the one point she would not capitulate on, not matter what they offered her. Breasts or not, Draco was still the same person she'd been for the first fourteen years of her life. She already felt as if she was losing herself; she woke up terrified on more than one occasion after having a nightmare in which she'd been staring into a mirror that didn't show her reflection. When Draco finally had a temper tantrum (complete with airborne knickknacks), Narcissa and Camilla finally decided to leave well enough alone. They turned their attention to other neglected areas of Draco's woefully inadequate education instead.

Draco received a new broomstick servicing kit for her lessons in running a household in the manner befitting a Lady Malfoy and the general politics involved in being a Ministry official's wife. Narcissa had to buy Draco a new cloak in order to coax her into attending afternoon tea at the Parkinson Estate. Seeing Pansy again had been weird and disturbing, considering the fact Draco had kissed her a few times when she was a boy. They eyed each other askance for a little while and proceeded to make stilted and slightly awkward if polite conversation. Draco had actually been glad for the lessons his mother and grandmother had been giving her, because surely otherwise she'd have been struck dumb.

Shortly after that, Draco discovered the joys of menstruation. And by joys of course, Draco meant horrors. It had taken two hours for Camilla and Narcissa to convince Draco she wasn't bleeding to death and another two to calm her hysterics. She had spent the rest of the day moaning in pain from the cramps and ordering everyone around from her bed, demanding chocolate ice cream with hot fudge and nuts sprinkled on top from Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor and a heating charm for her aching stomach. Thankfully, there was a potion she could take once every month that meant she wouldn't have to deal with that sort of thing again until she was ready to have children… which really didn't bear thinking about. She was going to require a lot more than a Firebolt to be coaxed into childbirth, that was for sure.

Every day, Narcissa taught her a new cosmetic charm. Each one was more annoying than the last, from the one that kept her eyebrows neat to the rather frivolous charm that made her lips shiny with dew. Draco actually looked like a proper girl now, though it was truly only skin deep. Occasionally, Draco found herself wishing she didn't have to sit down to pee or adjusting her bra in public when it pinched, to the utter despair of her mother. Every lesson was a struggle, but between the iron will and cunning of Camilla and the absolute stubbornness and sweet cajoling of Narcissa, Draco had no chance of winning.

By the end of the summer, when Draco received her Hogwarts letter and prefect badge, she actually resembled something like a polite young lady. Draco, who had always been an excellent actor, could fake the coy sweetness required of pureblood girls easily, though it took a bit more effort to make sure she keep her usual acidic, sarcastic comments to herself when she was angry. She got a new pair of kidskin gloves and dragonhide boots for her troubles along with a new wardrobe, though it was, quite predictably, filled with frilly girls' clothes.

When Draco saw her father again two days before school started, she was standing between her mother and grandmother wearing soft lilac dress robes and her hair fell to her waist in loose, shining curls. She smiled demurely at her father, who looked cross, but also rather smug. After the other two women had welcomed him home, she greeted him courteously in melodic tones. "Hello, Father. It's nice to see you again. I do hope your summer was pleasant."

Lucius did a double take and stared. "Draco? Is that you?" He asked incredulously.

Amused at his reaction, the youngest Malfoy inclined her head in agreement. "Would you care for some tea? We have Earl Grey. It is your favorite, isn't it?"

Draco's father blinked in a startled manner while Camilla and Narcissa exchanged fondly amused looks. "Yes, of course."

"Come along, Lucius. I'll not have you freezing on the doorstep." He obeyed his mother instinctively, still stunned at the change in his child. "Don't worry about it." The matron advised her son, leaning in conspiratorially. "She's still the same stubborn trouble magnet. She's just messing you about."

"Who, me?" Draco asked innocently, pretending to be offended when all three of her relatives snorted in disbelief at the same time.

To Be Continued…

Constructive criticism and comments are more than welcome.