Author's Note:
Imagine my suprise when one day, upon searching Google for "Harry Potter Shrinking", I come across this very story that I had written eight years ago and had forgotten completely about. Imagine my further surprise upon actually remembering my username and password to Fanfiction, which I had not logged into in eight years and the information was locked away in some far corner of my mind.
I was nineteen when I started this story, and I am twenty-seven now. I don't know how many stories have an eight-year gap between updates, but I am going to continue the story in the way I had intended before it slipped out of my conscious mind and into the dark corners where witches with sinister minds and shrinking potions play.
Hermione stood frozen looking back at Snape. This was it, she thought. She was going to get caught and there was no way out of it. For all Hermione's cleverness Snape was still by far the more talented wizard; there was no spell or jinx she could cast that he couldn't block instantly, and she wouldn't be able to run for it—she was sure Snape would stun or impede her before she reached the door.
"Turn out your pockets." Snape growled, rage at the very surface of his voice, "NOW!"
Snape pointed his wand aggressively at the very pocket where Malfoy was hidden. Across the room Pansy had stopped her search and was looking intently at the confrontation. Malfoy squirmed in Hermione's pocket. There was nothing for it. If Hermione wouldn't empty her pockets Snape would simply use a summoning charm to remove the contents for her.
At that moment there was a high-pitched inhuman shriek from below. Snape and Hermione's eyes moved down to see what was causing the sound. There, standing next to Hermione's right foot, was the giffor she had drawn earlier in the day. But it was different—instead of peaceful black eyes the giffor now had bright, angry red eyes. It was reared up on its hind legs, claws stretching out of its paws and fangs peeking out of its mouth. Also, it was growing.
"OUT!" Snape roared at the giffor, which was now almost three feet high and still growing. He fired a curse from his wand striking the giffor with red light. Instead of stopping the giffor, however, this only seemed to make it angrier. It was almost man-sized when it pounced, biting and clawing at Snape. Snape was moving quickly, dashing to the side and firing curses at the giffor as it attacked.
A little voice in Hermione's head told her to run. With Snape's attention fully upon the ravaging giffor Hermione turned and ran out of the dungeon classroom, the bottles of shrinking potion and antidote clinking in her pocket.
She ran down the hallway making up her mind where to go. She wasn't going back to lunch—she would head up to the Gryffindor common room. The giffor would probably stop attacking Snape when it believed he was no longer a threat to Malfoy—for Hermione was certain it was for that reason it attacked Snape—and she had to go somewhere that he would look awkward following her. She never recalled seeing him in the Gryffindor common room before—it was McGonagall who would enter on those rare occasions that a head of house was required to address her students in the common room. And certainly Snape would not tell McGonagall what was going on, as she would certainly tell Dumbledore in turn.
But even if Hermione managed to evade Snape now, she knew he would try every means to corner her around the castle. Between lessons and during break and lunch periods he could be lurking behind any door, tapestry, or statue. She had to find some way to alert herself of Snape's presence, to always know if he was near her…
Then she remembered—the Marauder's Map! That ingenious little bit of parchment of Harry's had won Hermione over at long last. How could she ever have thought of turning that in to McGonagall? The thought was ludicrous now.
Harry and Ron would be at lunch, and with luck, the other three boys in the dormitory would also be. It was unusual but not uncommon for girls to go up into the boy's dormitories—Hermione herself had done so when she had important news to tell Harry and Ron. Breathlessly repeating the password to the Fat Lady, Hermione raced across the virtually deserted common room and up the boys stairs.
Hermione started to develop a stint in her side as she climbed the stairs up the tower. Why did they had to have the one at the very top? Finally Hermione reached the door to the sixth year boys dormitory and pushed it open.
Boys, thought Hermione to herself as she looked over the untidy room. None of the five boys who lived there were particularly neat—only Dean Thomas had made the smallest effort to keep his belongings organized. Harry and Ron were easily tied for the messiest overall, however. She made a mental note to scold them on the state of their room when she next had a chance.
Just as Hermione started to wonder how she would ever be able to find the marauder's map in all this mess, she had an epiphany—she was a witch! Drawing out her wand, she said "Accio Map!"
The large trunk next to Harry's bed burst open and a piece of very old and wrinkled parchment rose up from the depths of the trunk into Hermione's outstretched hand. She tapped it with her wand and remembered the words Harry had used to activate it: "I solemnly swear I am up to no good."
Perhaps because she was completely genuine in her declaration or perhaps because her voice was just so eager the map sprung to life at once, as if glad to be used by such a steadfast troublemaker. Hermione peered at the map checking Snape's dungeon. Snape was alone in his classroom, evidently pacing back and forth. Pansy had either been dismissed or had also run when the giffor attacked Snape. Either way, Snape didn't need Pansy searching the dungeon anymore because Hermione was sure Snape knew that she, Hermione, had little shrunken Draco.
Hermione made her way down the stairs of the boys' dormitory and up the stairs of the girls', entering her own that he shared with four other Gryffindor sixth-years, all of whom were not present, Hermione knew thanks to the map. Still panting from all the running, Hermione emptied her pockets of the shrinking potion and antidote into the top drawer of her cupboard, sealing it with a spell that would allow no one but her to open it.
Finally, Hermione slumped down on her bed and reached into her pocket, getting that familiar little thrill as her fingers closed around the tiny, naked form of Draco Malfoy. She pulled him out of her pocket and looked at him.
"Well well, little Draco." She grinned, "Lucky your giffor was looking out for you!"
"Lucky for you!" Malfoy sneered. Instead of looking afraid as he had done most of the time he was small, he had returned to his normal sneer. "Snape's going to find you, Mudblood. He's going to restore me and his punishment of you will make anything you've done to me seem like child's play in comparison!"
Hermione's expression darkened, but she was not angry. She still had the upper hand over Malfoy and knew it would be all too easy to punish him.
"Mudblood, am I?" Hermione said in a low, dangerous voice. Malfoy's sneer faded and he seemed to shrink even more upon the look Hermione. "Looks like washing out your mouth wasn't enough to bring the lesson home, Malfoy."
With her other hand, Hermione grabbed hold of Malfoy's leg. Sheer terror seized Malfoy as she started to effortlessly bend his left leg in the wrong direction between two fingers. Malfoy exclaimed in pain and discomfort. Then, all at once, the leg broke, the snap reverberating around the dorm. Malfoy cried out in pain.
"If being pure-blood's so great then why are you, the pure-blood, sitting in the hand of me, a mudblood, your leg snapped like a twig?" Hermione growled over the anguished cries of Draco. "I could snap your other leg if I wanted, ferret."
"You'll…pay…" Draco panted defiantly between pained gasps. Hermione squeezed his broken leg between her two fingers, causing him to cry out again.
"Still think Snape's going to get me, do you?" Hermione taunted. "Well, ferret, I have a number tricks up my sleeve. They don't call me the cleverest in my year for nothing, Darco!" Hermione laughed. "But none of that matters to you. The only thing you need to worry about is not incurring my wrath! What good is eventual rescue if you don't live to see it?"
Hermione was exaggerating, of course—she might hate Draco, but she would never hurt him in any kind of lasting way. The words the twisting of the leg seemed to have their effect, however. Draco was no longer protesting, just whimpering in pain.
"But I don't stoop to the level of your or your Slytherin cronies." Said Hermione. "If you say you're sorry, I'll heel you up, and if you remain good, no further harm will come to you. So are you sorry?"
Still whimpering, Draco nodded. Struggling to find his voice, he said, "I'm…I'm sorry."
"I'm sorry what?" Hermione asked coldly.
"I'm sorry…your majesty," Draco croaked. Hermione smiled.
"All right then!" Hermione said perkily. She pointed her wand at Draco's leg and muttered the incantation to mend bones. Draco's leg fixed itself instantly. It seemed much easier to do on Draco's twig like leg than it would be upon a full-sized bone.
"There's no permanent damage done." Hermione said. "Though I do warn you that if done enough times on the same bone, the spell begins to work imperfectly."
"Thank you, your highness." Draco gasped. While the pain might be gone it would take a few minutes before the lingering shock dissipated.
"Don't think you're off the hook, though." Said Hermione, waving a finger at Draco. "You've still been a bad boy, and I'm going to have chores for you to do later. Do you understand?"
"Yes, your majesty," Said Draco as Hermione placed him next to her on his bed. She stood up and started shifting books around, repacking her bag.
"We've got charms in a few minutes." Hermione said. "Well, the Gryffindors do, anyway. But I suspect Flitwick's got us all at the same point in lessons, and it's not like I'm going to hand you over to Pansy Parkinson to carry you to the Slytherin's class time. What?"
For at the mention of Pansy's name Draco visibly shuddered. Hermione brought her face quite close to Draco, looking down on him with a bemused expression.
"You don't want to be given over to Pansy?" Hermione asked, "Why not? She seemed very keen to find you in the dungeon! I thought you were in love."
Hermione said those last words with a mark of scorn. Hermione hated Pansy and thought it laughable that anyone could find that thing attractive. But Draco shook his head.
"I don't love her. Your majesty." He added, hastily, not looking at her. For a split second Hermione found herself becoming curious. But she quickly snapped out of it, and snatched Draco suddenly back off the table.
"No matter. You're with big old Hermione, the mudblood!" She sneered at Malfoy in her hand. She thought at some point she really ought to get him clothes, but she thought of it in a lazy, not-caring kind of way.
"And you better take good notes in Charms too, I'll be checking!" Hermione said, stuffing Malfoy in her pocket with the same pieces of parchment and quill she had given him before. Taking out the marauders map, Hermione made sure that Snape was still in his dungeon as she left the room. Indeed, the dungeon was filling with the names of Ravenclaw second years, and she knew that Snape would not do anything so shifty as to not appear at one of his lessons.
Hermione made her way across the castle glancing down frequently at the Marauder's Map to make sure Snape was still in the dungeons. She made it into Flitwick's class with under a minute to spare, sitting down between Harry and Ron, whom looked at her eagerly.
"So," Ron asked. "Did you get the antidote?"
Hermione hesitated for just a moment. She didn't really know what made her do it, but when she responded she said: "No, I didn't."
"What?" Harry asked. "But you were gone for so long, we figured you must have!"
"Sorry, I couldn't get past Snape!" Hermione said. "He's definitely guarding his store with more intensity than ever before now. Even Pansy's not down there anymore."
"Why should she be?" Ron asked, gloomily. "She found Malfoy, after all."
Hermione didn't respond. She sat back in her desk as Flitwick began the lesson, feeling the tiny lump that was Malfoy in her robes as he shifted. She wasn't sure why she lied to her friends about having the antidote—but there was something undeniably sexy about having this great secret. Besides, Harry and Ron had merely been splashed by a small amount—it was bound to ware off soon. Not like Malfoy, who got a cauldron full of it, plus Hermione had a good amount of potion for him to properly drink now.
Hermione took notes with a little less vigor than she usually did. The thought of little Draco in her pocket made her feel bigger and sexier than ever, and she let herself be carried away by fantasies and thoughts of what she would do with him once the curtains on her four-poster were closed tonight.
That's my update! See everyone in 2021 for the next chapter. Trolololololo, just kidding! Please review!