Chapter 3- "I'm dying!"

Draco entered the Head Girl's Dorm and immediately went to the bathroom, deciding that he needed a good, hot, long shower after such a long day.

When he stepped inside the bathroom, he looked around with distaste at the small bathroom and lack of extravagant furnishings.

Ugh. I thought Granger had more taste than this. Note to self: buy beauty products at Golden Beauty's House of Toiletries next Hogsmeade weekend, not that I'm not beautiful enough, I just love spending money.

He headed to the toilet bowl, as he needed to take a whiz.

At least I don't need to stand anymore.

The next moment, he let out a bloodcurdling scream that would outdo a banshee's

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Hermione rushed into the bathroom, her wavy hair still damp and her skin moist from the shower she had just taken. She walked in to find Draco on the floor, unconscious.

Oh my God! What happened here?

She walked closer, her knees and hands trembling shakily to inspect what had happened to Draco. When she did, Draco's thickly lashed grey eyes fluttered open.

"Hermione?"

Hermione breathed out a breath she had not known she was holding. At least Draco was well enough to talk. Why am I so worried anyway? It's not like I have feelings for him or anything… do I?

"Hermione, I think I'm dying," Draco said "There's- there's b-blood everywhere. I'm gonna die from loss of blood and when I do-"

"Hang on Draco," Hermione said. She had just glimpsed the blood in the toilet bowl and had started to see sense in the situation.

"I'm starting to-to s-see the light," Hermione rolled her eyes. Trust Draco to be overly dramatic.

"Draco, listen,"

"I can hear the chorus of the angels and their harps-"

"Draco-"

"I-I'm fading from this world-"

"Draco,"

"The pearly gates of Heaven await me-"

"DRACO MALFOY, WILL YOU SHUT UP AND LISTEN TO ME FOR ONE SECOND!"

Draco looked at Hermione, looking hurt. "I'm about to d-die and this is how you treat me?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "You're not about to die, you idiot, you're having what every girl experiences monthly, you're going having you're period."

Draco looked at Hermione blankly. The crickets on the Hogwarts grounds chirped loudly. Crick, crick, crick.

Hermione proceeded to explain to the clueless Draco what every woman had to go through every month.

By the end of Hermione's explanation, Draco was flabbergasted.

"You mean every woman goes through this?"

Hermione nodded.

"Even-even my mommy?"

Hermione fought to keep her face straight when Draco said "mommy". She didn't know that he was such a mamma's boy.

Hermione rummaged around in one of the cabinets in her bathroom and finally found what she had been looking for; a small, pink package.

She gave it to Draco.

"That," she said, pointing to the package in Draco's hand "is a sanitary napkin. You'll need to change it every three hours or so. Put one on now."

When Draco emerged from the bathroom a while later, he looked extremely uncomfortable.

"I hate this. I feel like I have a mattress between my legs! I'll waddle like a duck tomorrow and everyone'll laugh at me." He glared at Hermione, as if all this was her fault.

She looked at him smugly. "Now you can appreciate how hard girls' lives are. At least now that I'm a man," she said, thumping herself on the chest "I don't have to worry about having periods, wearing bras, combing my hair, or being a girl in general."

Draco was feeling surly, as he was going through a mood swing that having a period brought about.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

The next morning, a very sour faced Draco walked to breakfast alone, deducting points for the pettiest reasons, as Hermione had not broken her habit of waking up early.

If you would compare Draco's face to a fruit, that fruit would be a lemon.

When he got to the Slytherin Table, Blaise greeted him in an oily voice that he tended to use around pretty girls or "hot chicks" as he called them.

"Good morning, beautiful."

Draco glared at him. "Shut the hell up, Zabini. I'm not in a good mood so unless you want to ever be able to reproduce, shut your slimy mouth."

Blaise was affronted. She's acting more like the Draco I know.

"Okay, okay. You don't have to bite my head off, you know. I just wanted to remind you that we have Quidditch practice at ten."

"WHAT!"

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Hermione was ambling around the Hogwarts grounds. Having breakfasted early, she was idling the extra time she had between breakfast and her first subject, Potions.

Suddenly, a very distraught looking Draco burst out of the Great Hall.

"Hermione!" he exclaimed when he saw her, suddenly looking relieved.

"What?"

"We have Quidditch practice today." Draco had been made captain of the Slytherin Quidditch Team and had made it a point to practice his team whenever he could.

"So?"

"So! So I can't sit on a narrow broom handle with blood spewing out of me!"

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Ten minutes later, Draco walked to the Quidditch pitch, his robes slipping off his shoulder because they were too loose for him. Now, however, he felt more comfortable and was more cheerful.

Why couldn't've Hermione given me these tampon thingies earlier?

As he got closer to the Quidditch Pitch though, his mood slowly dampened.

Stupid Quidditch! Why'd I sign up in the first place? It's not as if it's all that fun. Plus, it's way too dangerous! I could get seriously injured. My perfect features are on the line here!

When he got to the changing rooms, his all male team was already assembled there, waiting for him.

When he was still a man, Draco had severely punished slackers and late comers. As a result, his team always made it a point to get there on time. Now that he wasn't, however, he couldn't care less whether his team showed up for practice or not.

When he entered the room, they all looked up attentively at him, waiting for his usual pre-practice pep talk where he would point out all the players' weak points and threaten them to do something about it.

"Well, uhm, er, I think that uhm, we are…the best team Hogwarts has ever seen. Yeah. And, uhm we will win this cup thing." Draco said lamely.

His team looked confusedly at him. Now that their Captain was a girl, e seemed slightly less…evil.

"So let's go and do what we usually do at practice."

All in all, the practice was a disaster. At first, Draco refused to mount his broom, realizing too late that he was now scared of heights.

"Go on, Draco, just mount your broom," Blaise said, trying to coax Draco into flying.

"No way, Jose! I'm scared of heights. Plus, how can I be sure that once I'm flying up there, you perverts won't try to look up my skirt?"

After that, when they had finally managed to convince Draco that he wasn't going to fall to his death and that they weren't going to look up his skirt (although Blaise was actually planning to), he had refused to move faster than a snail, all the while petrified of looking down, even though he was hovering only three feet above the ground.

"Come on, Draco! Try to move faster! The snitch won't wait for you, you know!" shouted Nott, one of his Chasers.

"Don't shout at me! I'm a girl you know! You can't shout at a girl, you twat! I almost feel sorry for your future wife, you'll probably beat her up!" screeched Draco.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

When the Slytherin Quidditch team trudged to lunch, every single one of them except Draco, was dead tired.

They weren't tired because they had gone through a grueling Quidditch practice, they were tired because all throughout practice, they had to coax their Captain to do everything from mounting a broom to catching the snitch, and all throughout their practice, their Captain had whined, screeched and thrown tantrums.

After practice, the whole team except their Captain, swore never to marry. Ever.