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 : Ugh, my internet is so messed up lately. I've been losing it for a few days at a time, then getting it back, then losing it, etc. You get the idea. But so anyways, that's a reason why this hasn't been updated sooner. Also, my bio teacher has assigned us an absolute beast of an assignment—six typed pages—in our own words, no less—of research on Euglena. But I digress. See you at the end of this!
Hermione stretched languorously in her four poster bed. She allowed herself a few minutes of laying in peace and silence before forcing herself to get up. Sighing, she slowly opened her eyes and kicked her thin silky comforter to the bottom of the bed and stretched. Glancing at the clock, she noted that it was seven—she had plenty of time to shower and relax before lessons started at nine.
She rose from the bed and padded, cat-like, to her dresser to gather clothes and a towel. The ordinary action still felt oddly bizarre, yet completely natural. Her movements as Hermione Granger were more careful, perhaps occasionally brisk. In this world, she moved as if uncalculated, and gracefully, slow as a panther.
After gathering her things, she opened the door to the bathroom. Upon first receiving notice that she would have to share a bathroom with the ferret himself, she had been quite anxious and annoyed. What if he walked in on her? Upon arriving at Hogwarts, however, she found that the bathroom automatically locked itself—from both doors—while it was occupied.
Hermione stripped off her clothes and sank herself into the reassuring heat of the shower, which had turned itself on after a muttered spell. She leaned into the spray, massaging shampoo into her scalp. Suddenly—
"Malfoy!" came the bellow of Draco.
"What is it, Granger?" she asked calmly, just loud enough for him to hear.
"I need to use the bloody bathroom!"
"Really? Hm, that seems unfortunate, as I am currently occupying it," she replied arrogantly. She could sense rather than hear his low growl of frustration. Rinsing her hair and body of any remaining soap or shampoo, she whispered the spell that would turn off the shower and stepped out slowly. Wrapping her towel around her body, she gingerly picked up her flimsy lace dressing gown and nightdress and tossed it over a shoulder.
"All clear, my filthy boy!" she called behind her.
She smiled to herself and she cast a drying spell over her hair and wriggled into her (rather unusually fitted, she noted) uniform.
All in all, it wasn't a bad way to start the new term.
oooooooooooooo
Draco stepped into the Great Hall a little bit later than he usual had. He headed toward the Slytherin table—but caught himself just in time. Rather, Draco Granger caught 'himself,' but it was much the same.
Wait—what? No, no! It is not much the same! The thought frantically. He still felt a bit frazzled at just how easily he was slipping into this new world when he felt a small hand on his forearm.
"Draco? Are you okay? You look kind of—well, messed up," Ginny said tentatively. Fighting the urge to bare his teeth and growl, Draco smiled.
"No, Gin, I'm fine," he said. Ginny opened her mouth to respond, but just then Harry, from the other side of Draco, hissed—
"Look, it's the new Defense against the Dark Arts teacher!" Indeed, a pale, thirty-something woman sat in the seat frequented by so many others. Professor Flitwick was attempting to engage her in conversation, but it was clear from even a distance that her attention was on surveying the hall.
"Looks like a pushover to me," observed Ron, wrinkling his freckled nose. He took a large bite of blueberry muffin. "Oondur ii 'ee wasnit ere ast nut," he mumbled through a mouthful of muffin.
"Honestly, Ron, that's disgusting," said Draco disdainfully. He himself took a prim—I feel like one of those damned Muggle 'Bellerina' dancers—bite of croissant.
"Yes, it is, but I wonder why," Ginny said eagerly, leaning forward to squint more closely at the woman.
"Perhaps she took a late train?" Offered Harry.
"Or maybe, Dumbledore didn't want to call attention on her," murmured Draco. Ron looked sharply at him.
"Why not? I understand why he would want to keep it quiet about Hagrid, back in 5th year. But why this teacher?" he asked curiously.
"We-ell, I'm not sure…but she looks awfully familiar. Maybe she's involved in something else," Draco said, mouth twisting in thought.
"Yeah, she does…"Harry agreed. Ron frowned.
"'Eer een er eefour," He replied, which Draco interpreted to be 'Never seen her before.'
"Yes, but you never do pay proper attention, do you?" said Ginny, raising her eyebrows. "Oy! Elsie! Had a good summer?" she called to a presumably sixth-year girl who beckoned her over. Ginny complied, leaving the three boys to themselves.
"So, mate, how was rooming with the Slytherin Slut?" Ron asked, grinning. Draco grimaced.
"Just peachy," he said. Harry chuckled.
"Yeah, but you've got to admit, the girl is pretty damn fit—"Ron began, but was cut off by protests by Draco and Harry.
"Traitor!"
"Urghhh….Ronnn…."
"You know both of you were thinking it," Ron said matter-of-factly. Harry looked away. Draco could feel his face heating up….No! Malfoys DO NOT BLOODY BLUSH! Or think that Granger—Malfoy—No! Ugh!—HERMIONE is attractive!
Ron snickered.
"Shut your gob," Mumbled Harry.
Ron, still looking appallingly smug, was about to retort when the post came in, along with the schedules for the new year.
"Double potions first," Groaned Ron, forgetting his won argument.
"It really isn't that bad of a class, Ron," Draco said. I sound like I have a right stick up my arse. "Okay, so it is," he agreed.
"Damn right," Harry replied fervently.
ooooooooooooooooooo
"O-o-oh, Hermione, I just lo-o-o-ve your robe," crooned Millicent Bulstrode, her tone sounding very odd indeed with her gruff voice. Pansy sullenly looked on.
"Yes, thank you Millicent," said Hermione, in a very bored tone. Blaise shot a warning look at her, and his little sister, Leila, peered through her lashes at her.
"Hermione?" Leila piped up.
"Yes?" Hermione replied, an arched eyebrow raised. She had begun to take the little Zabini girl under her wing.
"Do you think maybe that it's the difference in size that makes your robe sooo much better than Millicent's? They are exactly the same, otherwise," Leila said composedly, lips quirked. Millicent, a large and boxy girl, flushed and cracked her knuckled threateningly.
Hermione, unruffled, put a hand on Millicent's arm before quickly pulling it away and wiping it on the table cloth. "Now, now, Millicent, let's not forget—little Leila here is on our protect list," she said calmly while shooting the younger girl an amused look of approval. Millicent nodded stiffly. Leila grinned.
"So-o-o sorry, Millicent," Leila agreed, mimicking the girl's croon. Hermione stifled laughter, but it gleamed in her eyes.
"Come on," Said Blaise roughly to Hermione. "We've got Double Potions with the Potter Crew in five minutes,"
"Of course," Hermione said, shooting Blaise a questioning glance. He hadn't participated in the conversation at all thus far, and she was eager to see what, exactly, had been running through his mind.
Picking up her bag, she was hurried most unceremoniously out of the Great Hall to the dungeons. Once they were alone, Blaise pulled her into an empty dungeon class room. Hermione wrinkled her nose at the dust that thickly coated most o0f the room, save, oddly enough, the desk.
"Urgh, Blaise, why'd you pull me in here?"
"Look, Hermione, we don't have much time. All I have to say is that you better snap out of whatever funk you're in right now, and you'd better do it quick. What the hell was that display put there?! You're the Slytherin Queen, so make some action, don't let everything simmer while the cauldron-fire's off!" Blaise said, very quickly.
Hermione's expression became stony. "I don't see what business it is of yours, Zabini," she spat. "But I will bloody well do what I—"
"That's the girl," Blaise said, beginning to smile. He ran a careless hand through his hair, mussing it horribly. "Now, look, we've only got a few minutes till potions, we'd better hurry," he said. Hermione frowned at him, but then nodded. Who was she to question the madness of this Slytherin?
oooooooooooooooo
Draco slumped in his seat next to Parvati Patil. He wasn't quite sure why she was in this class, but he was not very happy about it. He had hoped to get rid of her (in the kindest way possible, of course) this year, as it was NEWT-level potions, notoriously hard. He wondered idly how she had even made it; from his unbiased Slytherin viewpoint, she was a silly, petty girl who was far too interested in him—in both worlds, though more pleasantly in his own, real world—she simpered and fluttered, but at a distance, as he was Slytherin and she, Gryffindor.
"Ooh, look who it is," said Parvati suddenly. "It's that slut—did you hear," she lowered her voice secretively, "she slept with HALF the boys in out year!"
"Parv, that's wonderful and all, but I'm trying not to get sick first period," he said tiredly, looking up to catch Hermione smirking at Pansy Parkinson, who looked quite annoyed. Well, its good to see she's at least carrying out the Malfoy name well, he thought, his own smirk forming on his lips. Parvati looked at him oddly.
"What are you doing? You look like Malfoy," she said curiously.
"Oh—uh, imitating her," He said, keeping his eyes on her. As if she felt his gaze, he looked up into his eyes, lip curling. Hey! That's my lip curl! It was eerie to see someone act so much like him.
Wait—if she's just like me, does that mean that Draco Granger is exactly like Hermione Granger? Hmm…how can I use this to my advantage?
Know thy enemy, his father had always said. Then again, this father had also said that pain was just weakness leaving the body, and that was patently false.
Still, it wouldn't hurt to listen to listen to 'her' thoughts…
ooooooooooooooooo
"Granger," Hermione said coolly from mere inches behind him.
"Look, Malfoy, would you just bugger off? I'm trying to get to class here, you despicable bint," said Draco, thoroughly annoyed.
In an instant, she had him pressed against a stone wall, her knee precariously near his groin. "Listen here, Mudblood," she hissed into his ear. He could feel her breath against his neck and shuddered. "Let's get this straight. I am the superior in this…relationship, if you will. Don't you dare try to tell me what to do or speak to me so…" she blew quietly along his jaw line, giving him shivers, "insolently,"
"G-get off me, Malfoy," he stuttered. That's interesting, he observed. Granger seems quite susceptible to…sexual temptation. He carefully filed this tidbit away. I always knew she needed to get laid.
Hermione smirked and pulled away roughly.
"Dumbledore left us some work to do. We're excused from afternoon classes," she said airily, not bothering to look at him even as she gracefully sauntered toward their portrait-hole. Still a bit weak-kneed—curse this pathetic body!—it took a moment for him to follow.
When she reached the portrait whole and concisely said to the woman, "Night Flash," she finally turned to Draco. "Well, aren't you coming?" she asked disdainfully, hands akimbo.
He grunted in reply and hurried after her. She climbed into the portrait hole before him, as usual, and almost pulled the portrait closed on his fingers before pretending that she had forgotten that he was climbing in the portrait hole after her.
Bloody Merlin, he thought bitterly. Am I always this annoying?
Ten minutes later, while bickering viciously over the masses of paperwork that Dumbledore had left them, he concluded: No. There is no way in hell I can be that snooty. Or, actually, maybe I am—but in a sexier way, he thought, smirking.
"What the bloody hell are you stealing my smirk for?!" Hermione asked, fury concentrated to an ice-cold point. Just like him, he realized. He never blew up until things piled up on top of him. Unhealthy, he realized, but a tactic all the same.
"Huh? Oh—I, uh, wasn't," he said awkwardly when he realized she was waiting for an answer. She sighed, with an expression that stated that she felt as if she was working with the criminally stupid. Suddenly irritated, he scowled. "Listen, you pureblood cow, just because I bloody smir—" Smirk, he was about to say. He never go to finish the word, though, because he suddenly felt himself pinned back to the wall, this time with a spell.
"Listen here, you little Mudblood-ed shit," she began. Draco would have laughed if his lungs—and whole body, in fact, hadn't seemed to be constricting. Her, five-foot-something, was calling him little. He towered over her. "I'm not going to put up with any of your damned impudence, you filthy being, you," she said calmly, and he felt his lungs contract more tightly only to loosen seconds later, to leave him gasping.
"What the fuck was that?" he spat—only to realize, looking up suddenly, that Dumbledore was standing before him, Hermione's wand in hand.
"I will not stand for this type of behavior," he said in an uncharacteristically clipped voice. "The two of you had better shape up, and better shape up quick. This is your warning. If I see this type of behavior again, I will not hesitate to strip both of you of your badges," he added.
"Yes, sir," Draco said meekly. Hermione nodded and bowed her head.
"I'm glad you two understand, because you will be increasingly working together as the year goes on," he said. "I will leave you to your work, now. But once more—I warn you, no more of this business."
With that, he turned on his booted heel and left.
Well, Draco thought dazedly, That was odd.
oooooooooooo
Hermione, in her room, paced slowly, thinking.
Perhaps through this, I can look into Draco's mind and see if he is truly evil.
Hermione was unruffled by the threats made my Dumbledore. She had frankly been expecting something of the sort, and the shock that had registered on Draco's face clearly displayed that he hadn't. Perhaps he isn't so smooth as he thought, she smugly reflected.
Sitting on the bed, Hermione rubbed her back idly. Once she had thoroughly stretched herself, she laid back, head resting gently on a stain throw pillow. Trying to clear her mind of all her thoughts, she allowed herself to sink into Malfoy's persona completely.
Thoughts, not hers, whirled as she gently reached out with her mind.
Father is such a bloody prat, was one. That sounded promising. She delved further.
I wish he could accept that I'm not him. A lot like him, perhaps, but not him. I just—well, I wish I wasn't so much of a disappointment.
This was interesting. She had always assumed that Draco wanted to be a carbon copy of his father, from the long golden hair (so different, yet alike, from his son's) to the black death-eater mask. Intrigued, she pushed deeper into 'his'mind.
Pansy's so bloody annoying. No, nothing she didn't know.
I want that new Firebolt so bloody badly. Definitely not worth her time.
Why are Blaise and his family neutral? Do they not see it will only get them killed, by one side or the other? Interesting, but something she could always come back to. Right now, she was looking for something more substantial.
Ah, there was something. She had dived into his subconscious, that he couldn't even access.
I'm afraid of becoming a death-eater—not to mention the Dark Lord.
She could definitely work off this bit of information.
I know, not the best chapter. I'm just trying to give some background, though—I want you guy to understand that they have access to the other's mind, a very vulnerable place for the other. Things will get more interesting as things go on, I promise. Thanks for all your reviews, as always (I love how faithful so many of you guys are!). Leave me so encouragement! See you in chapter—eight, is it? Whoa. Anyhoo, hope you like, even though I don't particularly. Constructive criticism is always accepted!
