Author's note:

Another thunderous round of applause to Lady Lily Malfoy, my amazing beta reader! Any spelling mistakes, and I'm sure there are many, are most definitely not her fault.

To Mary, my lovely wife, thank you for your blunt review! I suppose Draco did take the easy way out in Chapter One, but, in that situation, I might have done the exact same thing.

Peaches, my tentative future co-writer, don't despair! "There's a fic for us. Somewhere a fic for us." (weird reference to West Side Story lol)

Jonadark, my faithful reviewer of both chapters without being my friend first, let's change that! Please PM me with the pairing you write in and it's rating so I can read and review you!

Have fun, everyone!

Chapter Three

Then

"Pansy Parkinson, I'm never coming out again!" Draco yelled through the bathroom door. "Never never never!" Pansy laughed and Draco stamped his foot. "You're laughing at me!"

"Well?" Pansy asked. "You're funny. Now come out here and let me do your makeup."

"But Pansy," Draco protested, still hidden within the sanctuary of the bathroom "don't you see? I'm a Malfoy! This is very undignified! What if someone recognizes me? What if my father finds out?"

"Nobody will recognize you, Mr. Self-Concious," Pansy reassured. "The dress and wig fit like they were made for you, and with the way I fix your makeup, you'll look and feel like a whole new person."

Draco sighed, considering. If he didn't come out, Pansy would bug him about it all night long. Besides, who in their right mind would willingly spend an entire Saturday night locked in the bathroom? On the other hand, what if somebody recognized him? What if the whole wizarding world found out that Draco Lucius Malfoy had been caught wearing women's clothing?

Draco had never planned on taking this fascination with cross dressing public. He had intended to buy one pair of lacy woman's panties in hopes that it would be all he needed to get this odd inclination out of his system. Unfortunately, or fortunately, depending on how he looked at it, Pansy was shopping for underwear on the same day and at the same place as Draco.

Rather than being horrified to discover her friend's effeminate nature, Pansy was thrilled. All of her dearest friends were guys, and this left nobody for Pansy to do girl things with. For three weeks now, Pansy had been pleading with him to cross dress and go dancing with her, and for three weeks, Draco had declined for fear of being found out.

At last, Pansy's continuous pouting, flirting, and flattery wore down Draco's wall of resistance. The girl had ways of being very persuasive when she wanted to. Still, Draco had a bad feeling about it. For some unexplainable reason, Draco knew if he went through with this evening's plans, his life would be changed forever. Draco was never one who liked change, so this nagging premonition unnerved him.

"Draco?" Pansy called. "Come on!"

He could hear her tapping her long red nails impatiently against the doorframe. "All right all right," he said, slowly unlocking the door and swinging it open dramatically.

Pansy gasped, looking with wide eyes at her friend in his new clothes. The dress was a soft blue, velvet to the waist and satin to Draco's feet. Swirls of lace were worked against the satin, giving the dress the elusion of movement. The wig was the same silvery blond as Draco's real hair. It fell in waves down his back. His shoes were blue like the dress. They were low heals made from a shining material that caught the light, making them shimmer.

"What do you think?" he asked.

"Wow!" Pansy smiled her approval, reaching out a hand to touch the dress. She had seen the dress, shoes, and wig on him separately, but together, augmented by the silicon breasts and the waist-trimming corset, they worked to make Draco look more like a girl than she did.

"Thanks." Draco returned her smile. "You're not so bad yourself."

Pansy wore a dress made from a sparkling silver material that clung to her, falling to her mid-calf. The neckline was low-cut and heart-shaped, a direct contrast to Draco's simple scoop neck. Starting atop her left shoulder and working backwards, a green band of velvet rapped about her, twisting, snake-like around her curvey form and terminating in front at the top of her right thigh.

"Draco," the little raspy voice in his head whispered "wouldn't you like to throgh her on the ground and ravage her?"

"What?" Draco was so surprised by the question that he answered it out loud.

"Tom giving you trouble again?" Pansy asked with a grin.

Draco nodded. Tom, the little voice in Draco's head, had been bugging him since his sixth year at Hogwarts. Only Pansy, Crabbe, Goyle, and Blaze knew about him. Draco could tell nobody else for fear they would think him mad and send him to Saint Mungo's. Draco knew he needed help. He knew that his quality of life could not be as perfect as he wished it if he did not somehow get rid of Tom. Still, his fear of the wizarding hospital for magical malodies with its sterilized atmosphere, magical and non-magical restraints, and doctors analyzing him every second of the day, kept him silent. Perhaps he could find a way to rid himself of Tom with help from noone.

Though his four best friends did not understand why Draco was hearing voices, they didn't judge him for it. Each had a friendship with Tom that was separate from their friendships with Draco himself. When Tom would shift to the front of Draco's mind, sometimes Draco would watch, sitting in the background with his thoughts as his mental cellmate roamed the world as though he owned it. Other times, the cold that always came with Tom's taking control compelled Draco to seak refuge in sleep. While asleep, Draco knew not what Tom did, and he felt not the death-like cold that surrounded Tom like a mantal.

Draco felt safe enough to sleep because Tom's behavior did not worry him. Tom's heir of superiority and confidence was not out of keeping with the proper conduct of a Malfoy. When Tom would take control of Draco's mind, Father was always so proud of him. Tom could play Quidditch better, carry himself in public with more dignity, work harder, take pain better, and outdo Father in many a match of whits. Because of Tom's abilities, Draco often asked him to take control. Other times, Tom would take control by force, and still other times, Draco would be the one forcefully taking control. The two were equals, so it was anyone's guess who would be in the forefront of Draco's mind on any given day.

Draco felt the shift of control beginning again. Hot to cold, cold to colder, until his thoughts puffed like clouds of vaper as he slid back into the deep darkness.

Tom straightened, adjusting to the boy's warmth. He liked the beating of his living heart and the way it felt to breathe. He liked the use of Draco's sharp vision and the lushus picture of female perfection it showed him.

"Tom, I presume? Pansy asked, obviously sure of what the answer would be.

"Ah, Miss Parkinson," Tom said in ecknowlegement, running a hand down the pronounced curve of her profile. "How succulent you look this evening."

Pansy smiled, leaning into his hand as the other came around her waist. "Will you be devouring me, then?"

"Be careful what you wish for, Miss Parkinson," Tom warned her.

He pulled the girl to him, licking down the side of her neck. She shivered, planting a chain of kisses along his jawline. He felt the length of her pressed against him, and the world began to turn red.

An hour later, Tom laid a kiss on Pansy's brow, looking down at her with smiling eyes. "I warned you, didn't I?"

"Tom, do I ever heed your warnings?" she asked through half-closed eyes, twining her arms about his neck. "If I did, look at all the fun we'd miss!"

He laughed, a laugh that would have chilled anyone else, but Pansy only smiled, rolling gracefully back to a sitting position. Taking her wand from her pocket, she muttered a spell that ironed the wrinkles and mended the tears in their garments.

"Now," she said "be a good boy and get Draco, will you? We simply must get to the Purple Dragon tonight."