Disclaimer: If someone asked me of my wishes, one of them would be to own Harry Potter and Co. but as it is, I don't even have a someone who would ask me my wishes... Well, this is a frustrating life.

HALLOWEEN MADNESS (Courtesy of Draco Malfoy)

Chapter 4: SPOT THE DIFFERENCE

Hermione quickly laid her container on their work table, hiked up her robes and rushed forward towards Harry. Ron was already beside Harry when she reached him.

"Harry," Ron was saying. "Are you all right, mate?"

Harry's voice was small and fitting a four year old. "I don't know. I feel a little dizzy."

Hermione said, "Er, Harry, are you not feeling the draft?"

Harry looked down at his body and the ill-fitting robes. "Right. What do you suppose I do?"

She brought out her wand, muttered a spell and Harry's school robes then fit him.

Right then Snape came. "What do you think are you all doing, watching Potter?"

Nobody replied but they everyone scurried back to their places before they got Snape angry. "Granger? Weasley?"

"Professor, what of Harry?" Hermione dared ask.

"What of him? I don't see much difference. Still the spoiled little brat."

Several Slytherins snickered and Hermione was quick to shoot them sharp looks. "Professor, Harry should be made his normal age again."

"And why is that, Granger?"

She didn't know how to answer that question without seeming to be too overprotective of her friend.

"Well? If you aren't going to say anything, I suggest that you go back to work."

Sighing, Hermione looked at Harry. "Will you be alright?"

"Yes."

She and Ron exchanged looks and went back to their partners.

"Potter looks cute," Malfoy commented when Hermione got back to him.

"This isn't a laughing matter, Malfoy," said Hermione hotly. "There could be something else that is going around Harry. We don't even know if that potion he drank could make him even younger."

"I don't care, really," said Malfoy nonchalantly. "On the count of three, Granger," he handed her the container.

"One," she started.

"Two."

"Three."

Hermione raised the container to her mouth. The liquid tasted foul and she swallowed quickly if not to ward off the awful taste.

"Do I look any different?" asked Malfoy to her.

"No. Do I?"

He scrutinized her appearance. "I don't think so."

"Let's wait. The effects probably don't come out instantaneously."

Just after she said this, she felt something warm beginning to swell at the pit of her stomach and growing until she could feel it even to the tips of her fingers. "I think the change is starting."

Malfoy just kept staring at her, interest beginning to show on his face. "I must say that it is."

Was that just a compliment?

"How about in me?" asked Malfoy moments later.

Hermione noticed that Malfoy looked taller...or maybe that was just her imagination... But his shoulders...the berth seemed wider. The face features seemed to have grown more mature with the help of the potion. The other changes must be more than physical, for she could not see any more of them. He was still lean, hanging on to his Seeker-type built; he haven't yet lost his pallor and his hair color was still the same pale blond.

"Not much change in you," she told him, and proceeded to tell Malfoy what she observed. "At least, none so noticeable. How about on me?"

"You must see yourself in the mirror," he said. "I think Pansy has one. I'm going to borrow it. Wait for me."

Baffled at Malfoy's hasty departure, she frowned. Why does she need a mirror? Was the change that bad?

Malfoy handed her the hand mirror as he came.

When she held it up to her face, she was sure there was someone else reflected...someone who looked something like her but with more refined features. If she hadn't drank the potion, she might think that it was an enchanted mirror that showed whom among of her relatives she looked most like. A distant cousin maybe--probably removed more times than it is even possible--that she wasn't aware of.

"Hello, there," said the reflection.

Great. A talking one. Just what she needed. She threw Malfoy a look of pure contempt for having given her that type of mirror.

"What? Pansy likes to be praised even by something that looks exactly like her," he said with a nonchalant facade.

"Well, aren't you just a pretty thing. What with that long wavy brown hair of yours and your wonderful expressive eyes. Those distinctive browns of yours you have for eyes are too expressive for any words to describe... Oh, and look at that mouth..."

The mirror continued to coo even as Hermione started setting it down.

"Well, this isn't exactly what I expected."

"You tell me," said Malfoy. "But this is interesting, you have to admit."

"So, does this mean that if I want to turn into a ravishing beauty with a body that a lot of people would envy, I have to wait until I grow older?" she asked and then adding, "I daresay that those words didn't at all sound like they came from me."

Malfoy, a thoughtful look on his face, suggested, "Maybe you did something with your face, with magic, I mean."

"Possible," replied Hermione. "But why?"

"You want to look good," said Malfoy in a manner that sounded like the answer had been so obvious right from the very start.

"Is that supposed to imply that I don't?" she asked with a saccharine smile plastered on her face, hoping to get something out of Malfoy and his ploy.

Malfoy did not look ready to answer that. "So...do we call the professor now and ask for him to grade our work?"

"If we must," she replied with a sigh. "But you do it. You're his pet."

Malfoy grimaced. "You make it sound like he were some sort of pedophile and I enjoy his advances on me."

Hermione gaped at him but Malfoy was already starting to call Snape before she could tell him anything else.

"Good work," said Snape after examining them but he was obviously avoiding Hermione's general direction as if the potion was all Malfoy's work. "I want you to bottle your potion, label it and put it on my desk."

"Yes, sir," the two of them said together.

Once done, Hermione looked at Malfoy and said, "Would you mind much if I brought Harry here? Goyle could trample him to the ground. What with your friend being quite bright and all."

He didn't say anything to that; just quirked his brows at her and sat down on an available chair.

Hermione cautiously approached Harry and Goyle. "Harry."

Harry looked up to her. "Hermione," he squeaked happily.

"How are you doing?" she asked, wearily watching Goyle in her peripheral view, who was looking at Harry as if he were some sort of window display.

He looked down at himself. "Considering my situation, rather well, actually. Goyle just keeps staring stupidly at me."

"Would you like to go to our workplace? I'm sure Malfoy wouldn't insult you in your state."

But Hermione soon found herself wrong. Malfoy kept on harping about Harry being cute as a kid and wishing that Harry hadn't grown up so he wouldn't have been an ugly git. He also kept quoting Snape about the 'spoiled brat' statement. All in all, having Harry over their workplace was a bad idea.

Harry tried his best to ignore Malfoy by letting his gaze wander about the room. If it were any consolation, he wasn't the only one who drank a potion gone wrong. Some of the students were doddering in old age, some shrunk to half their sizes and quite an unfortunate few turned into infants. The few people who managed to get the potion right, were busy with helping their friends out. Ron, he noticed, wasn't one of those who needed immediate attention but the thing was, he didn't look any different at all.

"So, Potter," Malfoy said, starting another bout of his insults. "Do you prefer sweets to chocolates?"

Harry didn't bother answering that and continued to roam his eyes.

"Oh, wait." He paused dramatically. "I forgot. You probably didn't have the money to buy yourself anything at all."

Hermione, with a strangled sigh, said, "Malfoy, don't you have any other better thing to do other than bother Harry?"

"Yeah," Harry piped in.

He took time to show them that he was pretending to think. "No. Bothering him is so much fun. Why should I give it up?"

"I figured you'll say that."

"Potter, will you kindly enlighten me of the wondrous things that go on in the mind of an innocent toddler?"

"Of course, Malfoy. Right now, I'm thinking that I want to strangle you. Probably kick you around a bit, then make sure you're face won't be all the same when I'm through. How's that sound to you?"

Harry tried his best to sound vicious; probably a tad bit venomous. But coming from a toddler with a small voice and a lisp that made him hard to be understood, the effect was a bit off of what he was aiming for.

Malfoy smirked at him. "Will you repeat that, Potter?"

The Boy Who Became A Toddler was saved the trouble of having to answer Malfoy (or having to trounce him, which would have been futile), Snape announced the end of class. "And for those of you who had failed to make the proper potion, and are suffering some effects--" Malfoy patted Harry's shoulder at this point-- "I suggest that you go to Madame Pomfrey for antidotes."

Hermione stood up and helped Harry off a stool. "We should go to Madame Pomfrey."

Harry nodded his assent.

Ron approached them, keeping an eye on the still smug looking Slytherin. "Harry, to the Infirmary, then?"

Draco said to Ron, "Weasel, would you mind fetching my two sidekicks? We'll love to go with you daring Gryffindors."

"Do it yourself, Malfoy," Ron snarled back.

"Oh no. I leave the honors to you. I know you long to do me some sort of service despite your rough demeanor."

"How can you be such an arse all the time?" Ron asked him scathingly.

"Practice, Weasel, practice. Ah, my two loyal friends," he said, Goyle approaching, carrying a miniature Crabbe in his arms. "I see Longbottom has made the usual mess."

Crabbe mewled.

"Smart, very smart," commented Hermione. "I now understand why you long for actual conversation, Malfoy...even if it were coming from a mudblood like I am."

Goyle grunted.

Malfoy just remained looking smug. No point trying to figure him out.

"Oh, Gran--Hermione, would you be so kind to tutor poor Goyle, here, in Muggle Studies?"

They were sitting quietly at the Infirmary along with a dozen other students who had friends in there, waiting for Harry and Crabbe to come out when Malfoy popped in the question.

Ron and Hermione stared at him at this.

"Did I hear you correctly?"

"If you heard something about my harem of beautiful women and my wonderful singing voice--"

Ron cut him. "Oh, shut it, you git."

"But Draco," Goyle put in. "She's a mudblood."

"Look at that," said Ron with fake glee. "He can speak!"

Goyle failed to hear the sarcasm. "My father will kill me--"

"If you fail this subject again," Malfoy put in for him. "Face it, if there is someone here who could teach you things about being a Muggle, it's her."

"Nice of you to own up to the fact that she's best for the job," said Ron, looking smug at Malfoy.

"Of course. She and I will be going out on Halloween. I must make sure everyone thinks she is worthy of me."

"We are not!" snapped Hermione even before Malfoy could finish. "Malfoy, I'm a Gryffindor, you're a Slytherin. I'm a Muggle-born but in your terms, that will be Mudblood. You're a Pure Blood. I like the things that probably won't interest you and everyone knows I am best friends with Harry Potter and you are a budding Death Eater, waiting for your initiation rights! Does that sound like something to you?" She drew in a huge breath after that.

"Yeah. It sounded like you have given this some thought. Am I really that important to you? That is just so sweet."

"Ugh!"

Ron looked like he was ready to lunge in on Malfoy any moment. Good thing Madame Pomfrey came out, Harry, Crabbe and a lot of other students from Potions class in toll, muttering, "Honestly, Professor Snape has to stop doing this. Every year, this happens. If this keeps up, I have to suggest that he adds to the syllabus the antidote itself."

They all thanked Madame Pomfrey and took their hurried leave out of the Infirmary.

Before they all got separated, Malfoy said, "The favor, Granger. Think about it."

Hermione just looked at him, incredulous, shook her head and walked off, leaving Malfoy shrugging.

"Draco, are you serious about having that know-it-all Gryffindor tutor me in Muggle Studies?" Goyle asked Malfoy as they entered the Slytherin Common Room.

"Do I look like I wasn't?"

"Well, no but couldn't I find anyone else to help me? Like you, for instance."

These were the times he wished that he had better friends. In a long suffering voice he told Crabbe and Goyle. "What I know about Muggle-related things could figure as much as what I know at having morals."

Crabbe frowned in thought. "That isn't bad at all, is it?"

He sighed, and sat down at one of the comfortable green chairs. "It is. If you paid any attention at all to me, you'll know that I haven't learned all that much morals."

Blaise Zabini walked in on them at that instant, stopped in his tracks when he heard Malfoy say that, and grinned at them. "Is it reveal our deepest dirtiest character-traits day? I've a lot to confess."

"Zabini."

"Malfoy."

"What are you doing here?" he asked, irritated at the interruption.

"This is the Slytherin Common Room," Zabini retorted pointedly. "I am a Slytherin, you know."

"Yes, yes," he said with a wave of his hand. "Now, will you leave me alone with Crabbe and Goyle?"

"Malfoy, I want to know what you intend to do with Granger. The thing you did the other night was fun while we were there since it annoyed the hell out of those goody Gryffindors, but now it's just suspicious. You are too obvious, if you don't know."

He kept his mouth shut.

"Malfoy, if your father in Azkaban gets wind of what you are doing here...you know the consequences, right?" Blaise's gaze was probing.

Malfoy opened his mouth once, then closed it.

Zabini took the chance to say, "You know what? While you're at trying to persuade the Muggle-born Gryffindor, why don't you put in a good word for me to Ginny?"

"Ginny, who?" Malfoy asked, his brows furrowing.

"The youngest Weasley."

He stared for there was nothing else to do. Blaise Zabini fancied a Gryffindor--and a Weasley at that.

Zabini said, "Well, what are you planning, really?"

Malfoy sighed once more. "Nothing. I just want to infiltrate Gryffindor Tower, gather all their secrets and make sure that we get this year's House Cup. Oh, and be able to spread nasty gossips about what they do there."

"In short, you want to make friends with them."

Malfoy flushed. "Stop putting words into my mouth."

One brow raised, he said, "And you're going to accomplish that by calling them names, insulting all of them in front of the whole school and telling them they're not worth you?"

"Exactly." And in a more defensive voice, "You overheard me. I haven't got all that much morals. Etiquette is what my parents focused on."

"Draco, I think you've digressed enough here," Goyle put in.

When did Goyle learn that sentence? Draco asked himself. "Goyle, it is all up to Granger now if you fail or pass this subject. Suffice it to say that she will have to agree or you shall be coming back next year to find yourself the object of ridicule for failing Muggle Studies."

The emphasis put Goyle in his place. He grudgingly assented to Malfoy's plan.

Crabbe scratched his head and because he was smart enough, he didn't ask any question out loud.

Hours after the Potions fiasco, Hermione soon found herself looking normal again. She decided to hurry off to the library to borrow a book when her friends cornered her.

"Please, Hermione, you have to bring one of us with you to the library with you. Malfoy might be there to accost you again."

"Accost?" echoed Hermione. "Isn't that too strong a word? Harry, I think you're worrying overmuch."

Harry was quick to refute her statement. "Hermione, Voldemort is out again. Malfoy's family has long been in league with him. We need to be vigilant about our defenses against them.

She snorted. "Be paranoid, more like it."

"You could call it whatever you like," said Ron. "Harry is still right no matter what angle you look at it."

"Fine," she said, annoyed at them. "Do what you have to do to determine who comes with me. Draw lots or something."

"We can't both go with you?"

"No."

Harry and Ron settled this by playing Rock, Paper, Scissors ("Oh, too manly", Hermione had said sarcastically). After several tries, Harry finally prevailed.

"Well, come on," Hermione told him, slinging her bag over her shoulders. "We don't have all day, you know. The next DA meeting is today, if you've forgotten."

Harry and Ron stared at each other blankly.

Hermione sighed. "I knew it."

The book she was looking for was nowhere to be found. It would be really useful for their next meeting in DA if it were located. She could have sworn that she saw the book the other day before Malfoy bothered her.

Chancing to look up, she saw Malfoy...and her book.

She looked up at the ceiling, and said out loud, "The fates are conspiring against me."

Malfoy smirked, and slowly walked towards her. "Really, Granger, resorting to talking to ceilings now, are we?"

"Really, Malfoy," she said in the same tone he used, "talking to Mudbloods....what a shame."

That should put him in his place, Hermione thought to herself smugly. But of course, that was too much hope, she had to agree, when Malfoy just gave her an impertinent look.

"I know you want this book."

"You can have it, you know. I won't be very likely taking it away from you when you're not looking."

"I know but that doesn't change the fact that you still want it."

Exasperated, she turned his back on him, deciding to find another book to help with their meetings.

Harry appeared from behind a shelf, startling Hermione. "Harry!"

"Oh, hi. I was just looking through the books about Quidditch," Harry's voice trailed off. Hermione knew he had seen Malfoy. "Harry," she started, "Malfoy has a right to be here."

"Yes, Potty, Hermione is right."

"Malfoy," Harry growled, "don't come near Hermione anymore, you hear. Or I'll--I'll--"

"Go to Professor Dumbledore and tell him that my father is a Death Eater. Oh, wait. You've done that already. How about...go to Professor Dumbledore and tell him that I am a Death Eater. What do you think?"

Harry narrowed his eyes at Malfoy.

"Speechless? While you're at it, let me tell you something. I have decided that you and that Lovegood girl look good together. The weird and the weirder."

Harry flushed both in embarrassment and anger. "So? Why are you bothering with Luna anyway?"

"Oh," said Malfoy and Hermione knew he was genuinely interested now. "I see I've hit a sensitive spot here. Do tell me the juicy tidbits of your affair with Loony Luna."

"Don't call her Loony Luna!" Harry snapped. "And I don't know what affair you're talking about."

Malfoy just looked on. "Tell Weasel that Millicent Bulstrode fancies him and Zabini has taken into liking the little Weasel girl."

"Little Weasel girl?" Harry asked him blankly. "Who--?"

Malfoy snapped his fingers quite a few times, trying to remember Ginny's name. "Jenny or something."

"Ginny," Hermione corrected him.

"Precisely."

"Malfoy," started Hermione, "what is it to you if some Slytherins think that the Weasleys look good? You're not going to play Cupid are you?"

"No but I might if that will get you to come with me."

Hermione was incredulous. "Do you know what you're saying?"

He frowned. "Yeah. What makes you think that I don't?"

"Because you're thinking of pairing up Slytherins with Gryffindors, and saying that Harry Potter looks good with someone."

"Why shouldn't I do that?"

"Because you're Draco Malfoy. You either do things to make someone look bad or just to have things to your advantage. And a lot of times, it's a combination of both."

Draco said, "Well, I've changed."

"Try again."

"I-- want to be part of your group."

"What group?" Harry asked with a suspicious feeling that he shouldn't have had done so.

"I know you have meetings to practice your defensive and offensive magic in case of attacks coming from the Dark Lord," he replied quietly.

Harry and Hermione blanched.

"What are you talking about?" Harry asked slowly.

"Don't play innocent, Potter. You know what I'm talking about. I helped Umbridge to catch your group last term, if your Gryffindor minds would care to remember. Dumbledore was replaced by Umbridge as Hogwarts Headmaster because of you lot."

Incredulous, Hermione said, "And what makes you think that we will welcome you into our group--not that I claim that there truly is one nor do I disclaim it."

"I don't need to be welcomed," Malfoy told them, unperturbed. "I just need to be a member."

"Malfoy," Harry started. "I know that you are aware that we know that you are a follower of Voldemort. Why are we to trust you?"

"Because I give you my word."

"And your word is what good to us?"

"Just as much as my joining your group is," he answered simply. Returning to the first subject, he said, "Well, I'm given you my proposition. I trust that Grange--Hermione will use her clever mind to sift through my carefully worded offer."

Hermione raised a brow at him. "Malfoy, you've been calling me Mudblood since second year. And within a span of three days, I become 'Grange--Hermione'. What makes you think I'd happily have you as my friend?"

"Because I'm a Malfoy. Everyone loves me."

"Your modesty overwhelms me," Harry said, disgusted.

"So I've been told." He smirked. "Think of what I've said."