Chapter 3: Polyjuice Me (Draco)
You-Know-Tool had gone off somewhere. Thank Merlin. If Draco's life wasn't screwed up enough as it is, he had the noseless wonder sweeping about his house cursing anything that moved. Who was he kidding? It didn't have to move.
Draco didn't get a wink of sleep last night because every four seconds that shrill voice was shouting “Crucio” “Imperio” “Avada Kedavra.” His parents had to give it the room next to Draco. What was he doing in there? Cursing the feather pillows? Die, down comforter, die! Gah. If he said it once, he said a hundred million times. What a nutter!
Peck-peck. An owl? Splat.
Draco jumped out of bed and raced to the window. An old brown owl was flapping wildly against the panes. He slid back the glass and pulled the owl inside.
She had never sent this owl before. It looked... deranged. Vinewood must have been in a pinch when she sent this pathetic thing.
Draco untied the letter and then gave the owl a bowl of water. He sat down on the edge of his bed to read the letter. He loved the fall and fireplaces... some people didn't understand why they were so great, but she did. She understood everything. He walked to his desk and pulled out his quill and ink.
Dear Vinewood,
Fall can't find us soon enough, can it? You know what it's like to have a wart and no matter what you do it keeps growing back in the same place and its bigger and bigger every time? (Not that I assume you're warty). But I have this house guest and he's pretty much the world's biggest wart. Not to mention he's totally bonkers. Hope your life is free of house guests/warts.
Going crazy,
Silverhawk
P.S. You're welcome to use my owl, if you'd like.
Draco scooped up the batty owl and lofted it out the window. It smacked into a couple trees before finding its bearing and flapping away. He folded up his new letter and tied it to his owl who glided smoothly through the air.
Another whole day trapped in the Malfoy House of Looneys was sure to send him on the next floo to St. Mungo's. He had to get out of there. Draco dug through his school trunk to a secret compartment hidden at the bottom. He plucked it open, grabbed the vial and took a swig.
No matter how many times he drank it, the taste never got better. Neither did the strange sensation of becoming someone else. After a few seconds, Draco was no longer thin and blonde-haired. He was muscled, tan and had wavy brown hair.
Polyjuice potion.
Draco dressed in jeans and a white t-shirt with brown boots. He had to buy a different set of clothes to fit his transformation, but it was worth it. Draco would go crazy without his secret trips to the muggle world. At least there was still one place where no one had heard of He-Who-Shall-Not-Pass-The-Salt (No matter how many times you ask).
The London air was misty and filled with the scent of vendors baking their sweet speciality treats. Draco walked along the cobblestone path, his hands in his pockets, enjoying every spare moment of freedom.
The garden he loved to go to was right in the center of the city but somehow it was still quiet. He would just sit on the bench and watch people as they strolled by wondering what their lives were like. Sometimes he'd make up stories about what they cared about and who their friends were.
At the edge of garden near several rose bushes, a white tent was set up. A neon-pink sign read: Animal Shelter Adoption Day. There will little metal pins set up in front of all the tents filled with puppies of every breed and loads of floppy-eared mutts. Draco loved dogs but dogs were muggle pets and he was never allowed to have one.
And in the midst of all it was Hermione Granger, a chubby little bulldog pup crawling up her chest and licking her face.
This would be fun.
