See? I told you I'd be back soon! The next chapter, well that's a different story. I don't want melodrama, but I need to get rid of Ginny. What a predicament! I do not know what I shall do! Anyway, this one really isn't long either, but I think it's longer than the one before. Just comfort yourselves with the fact that I stopped it here partly because the story is a mess after this point. But it'll all work out, I'm sure.

Disclaimer: I do own all 6 Harry Potter books, a portrait of Johnny Depp and a secret lust for Alan Rickman. I do not however own Alan Rickman's character Snape, the rights to any of the Harry Potter books or Johnny Depp. Go figure.

Chapter 7: Wherein Draco Displays His Lack of Stealth

"Femininization, femininization…" Draco muttered the next morning as he ran his fingertips down the spines of the books in Harry's library.

"There's nothing here dammit!" Draco cried in defeat. It seemed as if Voldemort might've crafted the spell especially for this purpose and so there was no book on how to reverse it. Or perhaps Potter's library was just severely lacking. "This would've never happened to me in the Malfoy library," he murmured darkly.

"The Malfoy library?" Draco heard Harry's voice behind him and dropped the book he was holding.

"Uh…I said the Calfoy Library," Draco covered eagerly. "It was the name of a great library in…America!…that I saw during my year abroad…from Beauxbatons!"

"Oh," Harry said. "It sounded like Malfoy."

"Malfoy? What a strange name! I'm sure I've never heard it before!"

"Really? From what I heard they were pretty active in the Order with Voldemort," he said nonchalantly.

"I'm sure I know no one with that name…unless you mean the devastatingly handsome blonde stud who often held private audiences with the Dark Lord."

"That'd be him." Harry snorted as he came closer to Draco. "I wonder what they were doing during those 'private audiences'."

"Draco was straight!" Draco cried without thinking.

Harry raised an eyebrow. "How would you know?" he asked a bit sharply. Draco said nothing and Harry slowly began to look apologetic. "Wait…did he…and you…did you…?"

Deciding that it was better to just go along with Harry's assumptions, Draco carried them on. "Yes. We did. So I know he fancied the females."

"Oh Darcy, that must've been awful for you," Harry said as he put an arm around Draco's shoulders.

"Well, the experience in itself wasn't bad," Draco said, drudging up a loaded sigh. "In fact, Draco was a very caring guy. Don't you think you're just a little hard on him?" he asked gently. "And boy did he know how to please a woman," Draco began to daze of dreamily thinking of the women he'd slept with in order to make his declarations more believable. "And he had an enormous cock. Really, I had never seen one bigger in my life it had to be at least-"

"Uh, Darcy?" Harry broke in, looking ill again. "Are you sure they don't have you under some sort of mind control?"

"Oh, I was just…remembering. But all in all, as you said, the experience was traumatizing. Horrible. I would never want it repeated."

"Okay," Harry said, sounding relieved. "How about some breakfast?"

"Breakfast would be wonderful," Draco simpered like the best of them. "Can you cook? I adore men that can cook."

Harry blushed crimson, a very adorable look for him. "Yeah, I had to for my aunt and uncle you see-"

Oh yes, Draco did remember the story of poor Potter and his abominable relatives. Magic-fearing, ignorant, narrow minded twits from all accounts. "Really? Do you want to talk about it?" Draco made his eyes widen and clung to Harry's arm so that he could better stare up at him in true womanish fashion.

"Well, there's not much to say, really," Harry said, pushing his glasses up on his nose. "They hated me, hated my parents, hated magic. They made me sleep in a cupboard for a long time…locked my things up when I came home from Hogwarts…they basically convinced me that I was shit and deserved to be treated as such."

Something strange was happening to Draco. He felt…sorry…for Harry. He'd heard of this emotion before, what was it called? It wasn't as demeaning as pity…or as stuffy as condolence…sympathy! That was what it was called! It wasn't the most pleasant feeling and Draco was beginning to see the benefits of never experiencing it.

"But at least I learned to fend for myself. Cook, clean, laundry and the like," Harry said more cheerfully. "There are worse things I could've learned."

"I'm sure," Draco said, raising an eyebrow. "I'm sure the girls are all over you with looks and talent to go with them."

A cloud passed over Harry's face. "No. There's only been one girl."

Ginny, Draco thought with undue malice. Ugh, just the thought of the chit made Draco want to vomit, though he wasn't exactly sure why.

"Ginny," Harry said breathlessly, his eyes glazed over.

"I know," Draco said begrudgingly.

But Harry didn't say anything. In fact, he walked straight past Draco, his eyes still blank like a cow's. Not that Draco had ever seen a cow. But he was sure that their eyes were blank.

"Ginny," Harry said again.

"I heard you the first time!" Draco said, spinning around to face Harry.

And then he saw her.

Ginny.

Bitch.