Chapter XII- Transfiguration

Harry and Mr. Weasley arrived at the stairs at the same time Ginny and the twins did, Fred and George having joined her in the drawing room after dropping off their bags. Harry broke up the bottleneck by ascending the stairs first, followed by Mr. Weasley, the twins, then Ginny. Harry ran up the steps two at a time, with a sick feeling in his gut that he knew exactly what caused that scream. When he got to the door of the room he, Draco, Ron and Neville were supposed to be sharing, he found his suspicions confirmed. Just inside the door, beside Ron's bag (apparently the source of the crashing noise), was a very large, very slimy slug. Harry grimaced, and looked beyond the slug (which he greatly suspected to be Ron himself) to see Draco standing beside the bed Harry had left him on. The usually calm-and-collected Draco's eyes were wide, and he appeared to be shaking, gripping his wand so tightly in his hand that Harry wondered if it would break. The other Weasleys arrived only a moment later, piling up behind Harry in an effort to see. Harry turned slightly to speak to Mr. Weasley.

"I think he's just been Transfigured, but I'll find out for sure. Just don't..." He trailed off and glanced at Draco again, who didn't seem to even be aware that there were other people in the room. Arthur nodded, taking in the sight of the shaking boy.

"Don't start yelling. I understand. It's probably best if we move him out of the room before we change him back, as well." With that, Arthur pulled out his wand and levitated his son-turned-slug out into the hallway and toward his and the twins' room, instructing Ginny to close the door behind them as the twins contemplated how best to tease Ron about this incident. Ginny waited a moment, hesitating.

"Harry?" She asked quietly, worried. He turned to her, most of his attention still on Draco.

"Hm? What is it, Gin?" She gestured slightly to the Slytherin.

"Isn't that Draco Malfoy? Why's he here? And why's he wearing a Gryffindor shirt, anyway?" Harry sighed, but was slightly relieved that Ginny was taking this calmly. Then again, she was probably the most logical of the younger Weasley children, anyway. Fred and George were too busy not taking things seriously, and Ron had a slight problem understanding the grey areas of the world. Ginny was the one most likely to help him deal with Ron, and would probably be the most accepting of Draco. He gave her a smile.

"Yeah, it is. I'll explain to everyone later, okay, Gin? I have to deal with him right now, and I'd really rather only explain once." The redheaded girl nodded, understanding.

"Alright, Harry. I'll go see how Ron is, then." She left, closing the door behind her as her father had requested.

All spectators gone, Harry could finally see to Draco, who still seemed entirely unaware of his surroundings. His eyes were still wide and blank, and Harry almost began to suspect Ron of managing to hex the blond before he was Transfigured, but then again, he couldn't believe Ron would be able to think quite that fast on his feet. He respected Ron's skills, but he really had no practical dueling experience to fall back on in surprising situations.

Harry approached the still figure of Draco slowly, worried that he himself might be the next slug on the floor if he surprised the boy. Cautiously, he reached out a hand and touched the boy's shoulder. The muscles there were pulled taut, and trembled just slightly from the strain. Harry removed his hand from Draco's shoulder and lightly ghosted it down the boy's arm, finally touching him fractionally more tightly when he reached the hand which was closed around Draco's wand. The blond still didn't seem to notice.

Harry took a deep breath, readied himself to be suddenly a lot shorter and slimier, and closed his hand around Draco's fist. He still didn't seem to notice. Relieved, Harry slowly but surely loosened the other boy's grip on his wand, and was finally able to remove it from his grasp and set it down on top of his trunk. With the wand secured, he faced Draco head-on, and looked squarely into his blank, grey eyes. They were unfocused, the pupils slightly dilated. With a sigh, knowing that he had to do something but not having the slightest idea what, Harry reached out and grabbed hold of Draco's shoulders, giving the blond a shake as he did so.

"Draco." Another little shake. "Draco, wake up. Draco!" Harry gave him another shake, more firmly this time, and for the first time, Draco seemed to notice. Harry continued to grip his shoulders as Draco blinked slowly and looked up at the dark haired boy; as if he was afraid that if he let go, Draco would slip away again. It took a moment for the blond to focus, but as Harry watched, the clouds cleared from his eyes, only to be replaced with the beginnings of tears as recognition flashed in the grey orbs.

Rather suddenly, Harry found himself with an armful of shaking Draco, landing on the floor with a 'thud'. He sucked in a breath, replacing the air that had been suddenly forced out of his lungs, and closed his arms slowly around the blond, who was still quaking and shivering at intervals. Harry was at a loss for a moment, then decided to do what he'd seen done in these situations on every ridiculous TV movie ever made; he began gently rubbing circles on the other boy's back, mumbling a mixture of soft hushing sounds and variations on 'it's okay' into Draco's ear. It took the better part of five minutes for Draco to calm down enough to be worth speaking to in anything but monosyllables, and Harry was beginning to notice that, not only was Draco basically sitting in his lap, but also he couldn't feel his legs anymore. That, however, was something to worry about later. First things came first, even though the blond seemed to be still a bit, well, out-of-it, for lack of a better term.

"What happened?" Harry asked softly, still running his hand up and down Draco's back comfortingly, feeling the rise and fall of the soft flesh beneath his borrowed t-shirt. He barely made out Draco's response, as it was mumbled into his chest.

"... was sleeping, ...yelled... thought... was... mother..." Something suspiciously like a sob racked the blond's body, and Harry held him closer. He knew that feeling, all too well, of waking up and expecting to see... what? Visions of the past, maybe. Maybe it was just a wish to go back and make things turn out differently. But it didn't matter. What did matter was making sure that Draco was alright, then making sure that Ron was alright, then making sure that the 'alright' Ron didn't 'un-alright' Draco.

"What did you do? Do you remember?" He tried to make it non-accusatory, but it didn't seem to work. The blond looked up at him with worried grey eyes, fisting one hand in Harry's t-shirt.

"Are you mad? I'm sorry..." He trailed off, looking miserable, and Harry realized that he had never heard Draco Malfoy apologize and mean it before. Harry's emerald eyes met with Draco's watery grey for a moment, and afterward, Harry couldn't remember if he had moved or if Draco had moved, but for a split second he felt the blond's soft lips on his, and a little spark that felt something like the first time he had ever ridden a broom, but in miniature, like all that feeling wrapped up in a single second. And then it was gone, but the universe felt like it was spinning just a few degrees off kilter, and he was having a hard time breathing. After a long moment, once his brain had returned from its brief exodus, he pulled Draco tighter against him, burying his nose in the blond's hair, which smelled like his shampoo and something else that was entirely Draco, spice and fire and vanilla cream mixed together.

"No," he mumbled into the platinum strands, "I'm not mad. It's not your fault. We just need to know what you did so we can un-do it. Was it just a Transfiguration?" Draco nodded into his neck. Harry breathed a sigh of relief. The Slytherin probably knew thousands of spells that were much worse. A Transfiguration would be easy to undo, there were many things that wouldn't have been, and might have required an extended stay at St. Mungo's. As it was, he still needed to tell Mr. Weasley so they could put Ron back to normal, though Harry was debating whether that was a good thing, with Draco in this state. He was just contemplating how he could manage to accomplish both the task of informing the Weasley's what had transpired and keeping Draco calm, when Draco solved it for him. He buried his nose tighter into Harry's shirt for a moment, then pulled away.

"I'm okay." He saw Harry's look, and amended the statement. "I'll be okay. Go ahead and tell them, I just need a minute. Is that okay?" He was still looking worried, as though he wasn't sure that he was still welcome after such an event. Harry smiled warmly at him, and nodded.

"Of course that's okay. Don't worry, it'll be alright. I'll make sure of it. Even if I have to gag Ron myself." The twinkle in his eye made it impossible for Draco not to smile, and he cracked a weak grin before disengaging himself entirely from Harry, who now remembered that it would be hard for him to tell Mr. Weasley anything at the moment, seeing as how he still couldn't feel his legs. He managed to make it to the door before the hateful pins and needles attacked, and Draco cracked another small grin at the soft swearing from just outside the door before Harry closed it behind him.

Now alone, Draco sat at the head of the bed that he and Harry had already 'marked' as theirs (the covers had already been rumpled, and some clothing that Draco couldn't remember having seen before was already strewn across the comforter). He pulled his knees up to his chin, wrapped his arms around his legs, and cried for a solid minute, remembering everything that he had seen playing before his unfocused eyes only a little while before. The memories played fast and hard, but everything still seemed like it was in slow motion, his mother screaming at him to run, then just screaming, and the feeling of the curses thrown his way... He cried, then he picked his head up, wiped away the tears and stood. It took him only a few seconds to compose himself and straighten his borrowed clothes (he made a mental note to get to Gringotts soon so he could buy himself a new wardrobe with far less red in it), and Draco Malfoy stepped out into the hallway, prepared for whatever lay ahead, and desperately hoping they'd give him time to apologize before they hexed him into eternity.