"Please tell me," Hermione cried. "Please. What do you mean, a permanent makeover?"
"I'm going to change everything about you, my dear. My son won't even recognise you." Narcissa smirked. Merlin, Hermione hated that smirk. That patronising, condescending, confident smirk. Hermione had seen it too many times in her life. Too many times.
Hermione, despite herself, was scared. Looking at her own reflection, Hermione took in the things she had taken for granted before. Namely, hair, two eyes, a nose and a mouth. She wondered what she'd be left with when Narcissa finished with her.
"Why do you hate me?" Hermione asked in a voice as soft as Harry's invisibility cloak.
It was a question Hermione had wished to ask many people in her lifetime. She often wished to ask some of her fellow classmates (both before and in Hogwarts) and so-called friends (excluding her current close ones of course – Harry, Ron, etc). The people that sniggered when she raised her hand and answered a teacher's questions. The students who would roll their eyes when they saw her studying in the library and would say nasty things about her when they thought she wasn't listening.
They thought she didn't notice or didn't mind. But, of course, that was stupid. Hermione was a human being, wasn't she? She was just a girl. Smart, yes, but not inhuman. And she studied hard, yes. But she did it for one sole reason – she didn't think she was good at anything else.
She had often thought of asking the Slytherins. Why did they despise her so much? Why did they try to make her life miserable? But she knew their answer. Her ancestry. Her blood. And along with that, the house she belonged to.
She had asked that very question to Lucius Malfoy too, when hey had spent their time together. Then, she hadn't said it softly. She had shrieked it and he had smoothly replied, "You are everything I was born to hate."
When she had stared at him, he had elaborated, "A Gryffindor. A Muggleborn. A woman and a threat to my family."
And now she was faced with Narcissa Malfoy and she wanted to know why. Why did so many people hate her when she never did anything to hurt these people?
Narcissa took her time answering. She took a delicate sip of her wine once again. She seemed to be pondering on the question.
"Hermione, this isn't anything personal. I have always hated Draco's girlfriends." Narcissa was going to continue but was interrupted by Hermione.
"Why do you hate them so much?"
"Because Draco's mine," Narcissa replied as if it was perfectly obvious. "He's my son. He's my family. I can't have some younger, prettier little thing flouncing in and taking my place now, can I?"
Hermione simply stared at the woman in front of her. To her eyes, Narcissa was becoming steadily uglier and uglier by the minute.
"Whenever Draco had a girlfriend, he would think of her when at home. Lucius always demanded full details of the girl – her family, the people she associated with and her fortune. And a photo. He always demanded a photo."
There was a deep pause and then Narcissa added, "I'm sure you can now see why I have such a hate."
"No," Hermione said with a frustrated and exasperated toss of her head. "Why?"
"My husband and son would look at this girl, who would be young, fit and pretty and then they'd look at me. Narcissa Malfoy. Gradually ageing. And although they would never say anything, they would compare me with her. Even if they didn't, I couldn't take that chance. I couldn't let them see my faults."
Narcissa, who's voice had raised painfully towards the end, stopped her talking and coolly sipped from her glass again.
Hermione's voice cracked strangely as she exclaimed, "But that's absurd!"
"Absurd, it may be, Hermione. But I won't mind being compared to you once we're finished your makeover. I promise you of that."
*
"Draco, there's something I really wish to discuss with you." She stopped, bracing herself for what she was about to do.
"Pansy, we don't have time."
Pansy shook her head. It was selfish, yes, but she wanted to do this now.
"Draco, I love you. I don't know whether as a sister or as something else. I never have known and I probably never will. But I know that I love you. I always knew you weren't like Goyle and Crabbe. I always knew there was… something else."
"But there's not," Draco said unemotionally. "There's not."
"I'm not saying that you're a saint. Hell, either am I. We're Slytherins. But I know you're not all bad. I know you really love Hermione."
"But it's useless loving Hermione," he said, his eyes fixed on the ground. "She hates me." He didn't speak with self pity. Just cold and cruel honesty.
"Draco, we're not good people. We're selfish, greedy and sly. We've done our fair share of insulting. Looking down on people constantly. Judging people. Hurting people. Making people miserable. I could go on."
"But please don't," Draco said. "What's your actual point?"
"Hermione doesn't hate me. I've done all these things and she doesn't hate me."
Draco looked at Pansy, startled. It was true but…
""I've done worse things than you, Pansy. I've killed people."
"Two people, Draco. And one was your father. To protect Hermione. To save her."
"And the Hufflepuff?" Draco threw at her. "I didn't do that because of any honourable reason. I didn't do that to save her. I did that to hurt her. To make her mine."
"But you've changed since then!" Pansy shouted crossly and desperately.
"Have I?" His voice, quiet and deadly, was a stark contrast to hers.
Pansy stared at him and suddenly tears were in her eyes. She looked at the young man standing before her. He was her best friend, her only friend. The only real person who she cared for and who cared for her. All she had ever wanted was for him to be happy.
"I wanted to kill that boy, Aaron, when he was kissing Hermione. I would have as well. I was so close. Pansy, I dream of killing Potter every second of the day because I know she has feelings for him. How can I have possibly changed?"
"You love her," Pansy said.
"Then that's made me worse! You don't know what it's like, loving somebody so much it feels like you're dying inside. It's a curse, Pansy. I know I can never compare to Potter. You don't know…"
"Don't I?" Pansy said in the same tone he had used earlier.
There was a silence.
"All I've ever wanted was for you to be happy, Draco. That's what love is, really. It's unselfish. Pure. We, Slytherins, don't have a clue when it comes down to it. But we can change, Draco." She reached for his hands and squeezed them. "We can change together."
He looked at Pansy. Her wide hopeful eyes bearing into his. Her warm hands spreading heat into his own. He didn't know what to say. Could they change?
"C'mon," he said gruffly. "We have to find Hermione."
*
Narcissa had started to apply things to Hermione's face when she next got the courage to speak.
"Is this what you do to all of your son's girlfriends?" she asked. "Make them hideous?"
"No. I simply discard them."
"Then why me? Why not just kill me?"
"Because you're the only girl Draco's ever loved before."
"How do you even know…?" Hermione began.
"I know my own son. It could only be love that would make him kill his own father to protect a girl. It could only be love that would make him be able to even look at a girl such as yourself. And if I just killed you, he'd never forget you. Never forget your face. Never forget your youth. No, he has to see you for what you really are. An ugly filthy mudblood. Then he'll forget. And then, Hermione, I shall kill you. Once he's forgotten about all this love business."
"I'd like to make a bet on that," Hermione said.
*
Ron and Laura went of their way through the forest. The two of them were jabbering on, not listening to each other in the least bit. Laura was dwelling on her fear of what would happen in Hogwarts. What if she died? What if something really bad happened and she never got to go to do all the things she really wanted to do.
"Ron," Laura interrupted him. "Have you ever kissed somebody?"
Ron stopped his talking, stared at her and suddenly went very red. He looked like he had just come from lying out on a sun bed in Spain for a good few hours without sunblock.
He muttered something incoherent.
"Pardon?" Laura persisted.
"No," Ron answered, wishing the ground would swallow him up whole.
"Me either," Laura said unashamedly,. "So, just in case anything bad happens to us, shall we give it a go?"
*
"A bet?" Narcissa repeated. Hermione could see the woman was interested. A game of chance. Risks. Excitement. Of course Narcissa was interested.
"A bet," Hermione said clearly. "If I can get your son to kiss me, after your makeover, then you have to reverse the spell to make me look normal again."
"And if you fail to convince Draco to kiss you?" Narcissa said. She was very curious.
"I'll offer my youth to you," Hermione answered.
Narcissa nearly fainted.
To offer your youth to somebody meant that you would lose your own youth and the other person would gain it. So, if Hermione gave her youth to Narcissa, Narcissa would return back to being sixteen years old physically. But not only that, Hermione would lose her own youth. She wouldn't even become just Narcissa's age, Narcissa would also have control of her age. Meaning that although Narcissa wouldn't be able to decrease Hermione's age from Narcissa's current one, she could raise it to any number she wanted. For example, she could make Hermione one million years old if she wished. And the best bit (according to Narcissa and all the other sadistic people out there) was that Hermione would not die. She would just suffer unbearable pain and take the form of a million year old body.
Needless to say, not many people offered their youths no-a-days. Oh, and another reason for its rarity was that the offering had to be done completely willingly. No amount of blackmail or torturing would cut it. The sacrifice would have to be pure and true.
The thought of being sixteen again appealed to Narcissa beyond anything else in the whole world at that entire moment. And the thought that she could make the girl that her son loved both hideously ugly and old beyond imagination made Narcissa laugh darkly to herself.
"You'll lose the bet," she hissed to Hermione. "You'll lose and I'll become sixteen years old again. You'll be both ugly and old and you'll be my eternal slave. I'll look at you everyday in my sixteen year old form and I'll laugh. You'll be so envious of my youth and beauty that you won't be able to think of anything else. I will make you older everyday until you'll be nothing but a pitiful piece of dust. No way of talking. No way of moving. You'll have only your thoughts and pain for company."
"So, you accept?" Hermione said weakly.
"There's no way you can break this if you accept, you do realise," Narcissa told her. "Once we accept, you'll be mine."
"Only if you lose," Hermione said without strength or conviction.
"I accept," Narcissa said with a confidence Hermione didn't feel. "Do you?" she challenged.
"Yes, I accept," Hermione said.
"Good," Narcissa said. "Now let's get on with it." Narcissa kneeled down and applied more stuff to Hermione's face.
*
"WHAT?!" Ron bellowed.
"Well, why not?" Laura demanded. "We might as well. I mean, we both like each other, right? And if anything happens…"
She was cut off by Ron's lips. He just needed to stop her constant talking. Merlin, she talked more him and that was saying something!
He just wanted to stop that mouth of hers moving.
So he kissed her.
The mouth didn't stop moving but this time Ron didn't mind. She was kissing him back and he somehow knew what to do with his mouth, as inexperienced as he was.
There they stood, surrounded by nature with the early morning son set upon them. It was quiet except for the odd tweet of a bird. It was perfect. Such a romantic place for this romantic kiss. They were blissfully unaware of everything – all earlier worries were forgotten – as they enjoyed this romantic moment.
The romantic moment was ruined when both Laura and Ron burst into giggles.
They broke apart laughing together. Both were rather pink.
"I can't believe we just kissed," said Laura breathlessly.
"Yeah. It was all right though."
"Rather nice, really." There were both talking very quickly.
"Want to go again?" Ron asked brightly.
"Okay," Laura said, of too eagerly.
*
I'm back. Honestly, I'm not going to do all the Thank you's because I'm in a really bad mood! Not only is it Valentine's Day tomorrow (which is always depressing) but there's a big disco thing on tonight (which is hardly ever really on) and my friends just decided not to go! So I'm in and I'm bored. And not only that, but I'm working tomorrow in the job which I officially suck at and am probably going to be fired at because I'm so slow while everyone else is way faster then me! So I'm all worried and I'm working tomorrow so I'm all worried about it now!
But it got me back writing again because I've been so not in writing mood lately. Mainly because life has been so dull and the guy I like is ignoring me and it's all so… blah. But I had some extreme emotions today which got me going!
Thank you to everyone that reviewed! I appreciate them all! Thank you and please review again!
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