Disclaimer: Harry Potter and long to J. K. Rowling, I have just borrowed them for a while for my own means. Nothing is mine except the storyline and I am not making any money out of this.
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Chapter 9: Pale Popeye
The twins struggled to keep Malfoy still and keep the tablet in his mouth. George held onto Draco's arms and legs while Fred held onto his mouth and tried to rub Draco's throat, trying to get the tablet to slide down his oesophagus. Harry watched, not exactly sure what to think or do. The twins used a series of spells on Malfoy to keep him still and to make the tablet go down his throat. Draco's eyes blazed, giving not so gentle hints at how terrifying Lucius was in death eater mode.
The twins stepped back and took the spells off Draco, who stood quite still and felt quite strange. Suddenly his arms began to grow and muscle definition popped up under his milky skin. Harry wondered why the twins wanted to genuinely assist Draco, but by the time a frown reached his face he realised that he needn't worry. Sure Draco was strong looking all right, in a disproportionate albino gorilla sort of way. His arms dangled past his ankles, not quite touching the floor and the muscle bulk was something Draco clearly could not handle.
The twins were in hysterics, looking at this pale, pathetic Popeye, minus the anchor tattoo and pipe, massive arms bulging out of his lithe frame.
'Go for it Draco. Have some fun with Harry.'
Harry was smirking. He may not have the extensive study capacity or brains of Hermione, but he did understand a couple of things about human anatomy.
Draco tried to step forward, but failed. Instead he travelled rapidly toward the train's floor, as his centre of balance was altered and his shoulders outweighed the rest of his frame. Draco stopped himself by resting his knuckles on the floor.
Harry laughed aloud, bringing Ron and Hermione out of their compartment. Ron took one look at Draco and laughed. Hermione rolled her eyes, but allowed herself a smile.
"I suppose this is one of your new inventions.' Hermione stared at the twins whose grins appeared to be preparing to extend past their befreckled faces.
'It is.' Again with the unified baritone. 'It's called a Popeye Pickle. Dad brought home a heap of comics and stuff and this one called 'Popeye' inspired us to have a little fun.'
Draco altered himself to use his second arm to keep him propped up. His shrunken head set between Hulk Hogan shoulders looked like an angry pimple ready to be popped. Only his clear eyes blazed with resentment, vividly plotting a terrifying revenge.
'How long does it last?' the pimple asked coldly.
'About as long as canary creams we think.' Fred said honestly. 'Why don't you experiment with your new you?'
Draco eyed Fred off suspiciously, wondering why on earth Fred was so curious. The truth was this was also a test run, the twins wanted to know what capabilities this newfound strength did to a person.
Draco glared as his onlookers watched his every twitch. Slowly he rested all his weight on one arm and lifted the other; slowly straining under the mass his body wasn't accustomed to. He twiddled his fingers, they all worked. Slowly he examined his arm as if it were an intricate artwork. He dropped it, then it flung out; fist clenched in a punch aimed straight at George.
Like a world caught in slow motion George slowly shut his eyes and anticipated the impact. A gentle touch like hands caressing a lover's face reached George's nose then stopped. George opened his eyes to find Draco's bones had returned to standard size, but skin dangled from his bones like a shirt that was way too big in the arms.
Return to standard play.
Fred smirked darkly, but the terrible trio didn't. They looked almost genuinely concerned at their Slytherin nemesis. Fred who was slightly more the magic/scientific brain of the twins worked through the ingredients of Popeye Pickle in his head, trying to establish the cause of Draco's current condition.
'What have you done to me?' Draco shrieked.
George looked at Fred who frowned. 'I'm not sure.'
'Repairo skin.' Ron pointed Draco's wand at Draco. Slowly like a retreating reptile Draco's pale skin shrunk back onto itself.
Draco stormed up to Ron and snatched his wand back. 'You are lucky that worked Weasley.' He snapped, then stormed back to his apartment and slammed the door.
'Don't I know it.' Ron smiled at Harry. 'Could you imagine being bitch-slapped with one of those things? It would make the Cat 'O' Nine Tails feel like a feather.'
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