Turning Draco's Coat

By

Aeriel Ravenna

Rating: R (for language and later chapters – perhaps a bit of violence as well, but not that much.)

Summary: Hermione Granger, with the help of Dumbledore, sends Draco into a parallel universe where he is Draco Granger, Mudblood and Gryffindor (as well as Harry and Ron's best friend...) and Hermione is Hermione Malfoy, Slytherin Slut and soon-to-be Death Eater. She goes with him and toys with him, just as he did to her. Will being a Mudblood be enough to bring Draco to the light side? And what will happen when, in the midst of being cruel to Draco, Hermione starts to have feelings for Draco?

A / N : Hi, guys! Thank all of you reviewers sooo much for the encouragement...keep them coming! Anyhoo, I tried to update as soon as I could. A note – I now the last few chapters have been kind of slow, and a bit chopped up as well. That's because I was rushing through them...I think after this chapter they should get better. Hopefully. Thanks again, guys!

September 1st

Shivering, Hermione wrapped her cloak tightly around her. She was at Platform 9 ¾, but it was fairly early and hardly anyone, save for a few tremulous first years, had arrived at the station yet. She was there early for two reasons, one, because she was Head Girl and took her duties very seriously, and two, because she had to leave Hogwarts the night before in order relatively on-time. Hermione thought ahead to the rest of the day. She would see Ron, Harry and her other friends...pretend to be astounded by the Head Dorms (she had already seen them, so she would have to act surprised...but then again, she supposed the acting was good practice)...speak to the prefects, settle in, and then—oh, yes, go up to Dumbledore's office, have a brief meeting, and then administer her potion.

Suddenly Hermione was grinning. She couldn't wait to see the look on Malfoy's face when he realized that he was the 'Mudblood!' Never thought I'd see the day when I could lord my heritage over Malfoy, she thought, smiling to herself. Just then, she felt a tugging on her robes. She looked down, to see a smaller-than-small first year. She was a sylph-like girl, with light brown hair and gooseberry green eyes that were very open.

"Excuse me, miss, but what do I do? I'm new here..." she whispered. Hermione fought the urge to laugh at her last statement. Oh, you're new? Well, I must say, you look very much in place with the sixth years, what with your 4'2 foot frame...

"Here, let's find you a compartment and stow your bags away. What's your name?" she said, kindly.

"Kaylee..." she trailed off. Then, suddenly, her eyes darkened, and when she spoke, it was low and harsh, demanding and eerie in her tiny body. "You must not fail in your mission. Your life depends upon it. If the Dragon is not Persuaded, then Light will fall and it shall be the Rise of the Darkest Age known to Wizard and Muggle alike."

Hermione's eyes widened. Was this...real? Could this little girl really be giving her a warning—seen from within her Inner Eye?

Kaylee blinked, and asked Hermione, in her soft, sweet voice, as if nothing had happened, "What's your name?"

"I'm Hermione," she told Kaylee, and took her gently by the hand. "These are the best compartments, but you should watch out for the Slytherins, they like them as well..."

ooooooooooooooooo

"Come, Draco, we don't want to be late," Lucius Malfoy said.

"Yes, Father," Draco said smartly, not in the mood to argue. Lucius motioned impatiently to the black and grey carriage with the Malfoy seal on it. The seal was a grey shield with a black serpentine creature with wings winding around the Malfoy motto; some boring, cruel torturous words strung together to make a phrase that Draco could never be bothered to remember.

Draco opened the silver-handled door and slid in on the satin cushions. A house elf appeared to hand in Lucius. Bloody lazy arse, cant even bother to get in a coach by himself, Draco thought, scuffing at the floor until Lucius motioned for him to stop.

"Now, son," began Lucius, once Draco had stopped fidgeting, "remember, I want reports on those Gryffindor brats. Anything odd, uncanny, the like—report it immediately. My Lord—and yours, soon enough—wants as much background information on them as possible,"

"Yes, father," Draco mumbled. We've been through this five billion bloody times, you old coot!

Thankfully, the ride did not last long; the coach had a handy ability to speed through even the worst of traffic jams. They reached the station, and Lucius was handed out by the driver—Draco, of course, lowered himself out.

"Now, son, I expect you to do well this year. Do not disappoint me again," Lucius muttered out of the corner of his mouth while smirking at Blaise's father. "Now go, run off with your little friends."

Indignant at being addressed as a child, Draco strode off in the direction of Blaise, not bothering to watch where he was going. He walked straight into a tiny girl, who seemed to be chasing a black kitten. She was so light that she nearly bounced off of Draco. He muttered a 'Watch it, kid," when he noticed the girls eyes widen and darken, and she whispered, low and husky, "Beware the Unknown, for it will either raise you unto the Heart of Light, or drop you into the hidden, black depths of Evil, where you will be swallowed Whole." Then, she was quiet, looked at him for a moment, and scurried away.

"Bloody 'all-seeing' Inner Eye brats," he mumbled as he reached Blaise, who quirked an eyebrow at his muttering.

"Started talking to yourself, oh One of Prestige?" he asked Draco conversationally. Draco glared at him.

"Yes, that's right, Arse of all Asinine," he growled.

"Witty, really witty, Drake. And you're supposed to be Head Boy?" Blaise asked.

"Don't call me that," Draco said. They walked into an empty compartment and Draco waved his wand elegantly to magic his heavy trunk up into one of the provided 'cubby' holes, while Blaise struggled for a moment, before noting what Draco had done and pulling out his own wand. The train gave the ten-minute whistle as Draco settled himself on a cushion.

oooooooooooooooooooooo

"Hermione!" a familiar voice called. Hermione spun around, shouting,

"Ron!"

Ron swept Hermione up into a hug, and as he set a laughing Hermione down, a raven-haired, short boy grasped her into a hug of his own. Finally, when he let go, Hermione was breathless and rubbing her ribs good-naturedly.

"You didn't think you were going to away without a hug from your dear Ginevra, did you?" And once again, gigging, Hermione was pulled into the tight embrace of one of her closest friends.

"It's wonderful to see you three again," Hermione said. Each grinned at her.

"Hermione, you look great! Have you been actually bothering to style your hair?" asked Ginny, smiling. Hermione laughed and nodded.

"Yeah, 'Mione, you look...terrific," said Ron, blushing to the roots of his hair. Harry rolled his eyes behind him. Hermione smiled.

"Why, thank you, Ronald," she said as primly as possible, with a snooty smile. She broke down in giggles a few moments later. "See what you three do to me? I'm supposed to act proper as Head Girl!"

"Yeah, 'Mione, but where'd the fun be in that?" Harry asked, flashing her one of his increasingly-rarer smiles.

"Come on, you lot, the train's going to leave without us" Ginny aid, hastily pushing the other three onto the train. As they found a compartment, and Ginny magicked their trunks into the 'cubbies,' Hermione looked at her watch.

"Look, I've got to go, meeting with the Head Boy," Hermione grimaced, as she suddenly remembered. "I'll see you three later, alright?" She pecked each on the cheek before disappearing down the corridor to the front of the train.

oooooooooooooo

"Granger," Draco drawled as Hermione slipped into the room, his usual cold sneer in place. Oh boy, soon I'll have that stupid look wiped off your face, thought Hermione victoriously.

"Malfoy," she said, businesslike as usual. "Let's get this over with, shall we?" she said, one eyebrow raised. Draco crossed his arms.

"Good, then I will be spared staring at your bushy head all day," he said, smirking.

"Good," she shot back. The two stood for several minutes, silently glaring.

"Gods, I hate you," Draco muttered, not quietly. Hermione glared furious daggers at him.

"Shut the hell up, Malfoy. If anyone here has a right to be doing the hating, it's me," she said, quietly blazing. Draco laughed coldly.

"Oh, let me guess, this s the part where you rave about me not knowing you and judging you on your blood and hair and all that bullshit. Yeah, Granger, shut your fat mouth. I don't give a fuck. No, I don't know you, and I don't want to, you bloody know it all, but you're so predictable I can say the damn words with you. So shut it, give me my work and shag off, you stupid Mudblood prude," he said, nastiness in every word he said. Hermione felt anger take its hold, and fought for control. Hermione raised he wand slowly.

"Never," she said, her words deadly calm, "presume to 'predict' me, you bloody bastard." She lowered her wand, but held it at the ready. Draco simply sneered.

Hermione shoved a sheaf of papers into Draco's arms, harshly. "Do these, prick. I'll do the others."

They spent the next half hour in silence, doing their work. Hermione never felt more relieved than when Draco shoved his papers at her, signaling he was done. As he slammed the door to the compartment, she heard him snarl, "Stupid Mudblood bitch."

Hermione sighed. This is going to be harder than I thought.

ooooooooooooooooooooooo

Draco sat restlessly at the head of his table at the Great Feast. He was sitting impatiently for the sorting to be over. Hurry up and choose, you bloody hat. I want food.

"Slytherin!" the hat finally called. About bloody time. Good choice, hat.

Finally, after what seemed to be eons of waiting, "Zabini, Leila," was sorted (she was Blaise's younger sister—"Slytherin!" of course) and the rest of the school was left to dine as usual on the sumptuous spread before them.

Draco filled his plate with all he wanted, and began to eat, looking around the room as he did so. His eyes settled on a few choice females who he decided could perhaps be worth his while. His eyes soon flitted over to a particular, bushy-haired Mudblood. A sneer unconsciously settled on his face at the sight of her. He watched her eat, delicately, moving her neck in graceful motions in order to eat without spilling or looking undignified. She didn't even seem to realize what she was doing, nor how elegant she looked while doing it.

He uneasily tried to think of something else. Thinking of a Mudblood in the same sentence as 'graceful' and 'elegant' gave him the shivers. He cringed and settled for sending a smoldering glance at an attractive Ravenclaw girl—Padma, wasn't it?

She didn't look up. Annoyed, Draco began to toy with his food impatiently.

"Anxious? The famous, oh-so-cool Malfoy is anxious?" Came the mocking voice of Blaise beside him.

"Of course not," Draco replied snidely. Blaise's sister, Leila, giggled nervously. Blaise sent a murderous glare at her.

"Lei, don't you have little first year friends to make?" he asked her raising his eyebrows. She waved a golden-colored hand at him.

"All the first years are so—simple. And boring. Not to mention not the least bit sly. I must say, it's disgusting. But I can see where I'm not wanted, so I'll be off, then," she said, airily. She got up and went to the other side of the table to talk to a few other Slytherin girls, a superior look on her face. Draco laughed.

"A true Slytherin, that one. You should be proud, Zabini," Draco said.

"Yeah, and they're getting rarer by the day," Blaise muttered. Draco nodded. It was true—many Slytherins were less cunning, these days, getting in only by nature of their nasty comments and pure blood.

One day, he thought. One day, Slytherin will once again be strong.

oooooooooooooo

Hermione got up from her seat, and waved a goodbye to her friends. They were going in the opposite direction from her, towards the Gryffindor dorms, whereas she was going to her new home, the Head dorms. She automatically took the right path (Left corridor from the Great Hall, right down the Hufflepuff corridor, staircase number 5445, third portrait on the right) and before she knew it, found herself in front of the portrait of a young, chubby woman gowned in a peasant dress and sweeping a lawn. Hermione nodded to her.

"Mudblood," she heard from behind her. She didn't turn around.

"Malfoy, we meet again," she said. "We need a password."

"How about, Pure Mud?" he asked. Hermione ignored him.

"Our password will be 'Night Flash,' miss," Hermione told the portrait. Malfoy shrugged behind her—he didn't care.

Hermione stepped into the doors, trying to tell herself to look surprised and awed as when she first came in.

It was a magnificent room. The common room was decorated in white, gold and green. Several couches and four armchairs huddled around the large marble fireplace, which crackled merrily. There was a bookcase pushed against a wall, and a table with several chairs beside it. A crystal and gold chandelier was thrust from the high ceiling.

Two staircases on either side led to each dorm. Hermione had checked both before, for she was very curious to see how the rooms were different. She had noted that Draco's room had been done in a forest-y green and gold, and her own, a dark red and silver. She made the appropriate 'ooh'ing and 'ahh'ing and proceeded to her bedroom, where she flopped on the marvelous black oak canopied bed and sighed. She wriggled restlessly, feeling slightly bizarre.

She felt as if she were about to leave home. She felt like she should go run to the Gryffindor 7th Year Boy's dorms and hug and squeeze Harry and Ron, and tell them that she would miss them.

But, of course, she couldn't. Bloody 'top-secret' mission, she thought, angrily smacking a pillow.

She sat up straight. What was with her lately? First I'm happy, then sad, then depressed, than angry? God, what is with my mood swings these days?

Sighing again, Hermione slowly stood up in front of her mirror, who lazily acknowledged her with a, 'Hello, dear.' Hermione smiled half-heartedly. She examined herself. She had dark rings about her eyes from studying, but it was necessary. Sure, she seemed a bit thinner than before, but she had been stressed. Jeez, I need a vacation, she thought. Thank god I'm about to get one—well, sort of.

Hermione stretched, glanced one more time in the mirror, and then headed outside, heart pounding. It was time for the Head's meeting with Dumbledore—time to administer the potion.

oooooooooooooooooooo

Draco stood in front of the stone gargoyle awkwardly. What in bloody hell is the password this time?! He had been told the password in his letter, but he had forgotten, of course. He heard footsteps behind him, then, and whirled around.

"Relax, Malfoy, its just me," Granger said crossly. She turned to the gargoyle and said, crisply, "Marzipan Strawberry,"

The gargoyle sprung aside, and, pushing Granger aside, Draco ignored her squeal of protest and started up the stairs. He reached Dumbledore's office, and hesitated before opening the large door. Finally, he reached out and pushed the door gently. It creaked open to reveal Dumbledore sitting behind his desk, eyes twinkling and his long fingertips serenely together under his chin.

"Ah, good, Mr. Malfoy, Ms. Granger. Congratulations on your posts, both of you. Now, shall we get into specifics...?"

He proceeded to tell the two about the duties of the Heads. After about three minutes, Draco tuned him out, unaware that this was exactly what Dumbledore and Hermione had planned.

Could this be any more boring? Draco thought acidly. He had better things—not to mention people—to do. He began planning how to capture the Ravenclaw girl he had been eyeing...Hmm...Ravenclaw...seduction seems a good plan...Lost in his devious plots, he failed to notice when Dumbledore asked him a question.

"Mr. Malfoy? Mr. Malfoy?"

"Hum?" Draco asked, snapping out of his reverie. "Er—sorry, drifted off for a second there..."

"Quite alright, Mr. Malfoy, it happens to the best of us. I was just asking you if you'd like a bit of tea," Draco failed to notice the twinkling that accompanied this statement.

"Yes, of course," Draco said, still feeling foolish for being caught drifting off. He watched Dumbledore carefully pour him a cup of fragrant, deep brown tea. Dumbledore handed him the fine china cup.

Draco lifted the teacup to his lips and drank deeply from it. He noticed that Dumbledore and Granger seemed to be staring, and quickly Hermione sipped her own tea as well. Dumbledore didn't seem to have a cup.

Funny, this doesn't taste quite normal, he thought dazedly. It must be foreign.

That was his last coherent thought as he fell into a psychedelic, swirling vortex of color.

Hope you liked! Sorry I left you off at such a cliffhanger...but what can I say, I'm sadistic. Slightly. Now you see why the chapters will be better? Finally, I get to the good part! Oh! One more thing...I added in Kaylee, along with Leila ( hee hee, that's my name, had to put it in there ) Zabini, though in general I dislike OC's...tell me, do you think they're horrible? Anyways, this is dreadfully long, so I'll say one more thing and be off...REVIEW PLEASE!