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Why Draco Should Not Be Using Tampons	By : Padfoot Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 43388 -:- Recommendations : 3 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

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Day one: Sunday

Part one

Hermione woke up the next morning feeling like utter crap. She felt as if she’d engaged in some serious physical exercises the day before and had forgotten to stretch afterwards. The muscles of her entire body felt terribly stiff. What had she done that could make her feel this way?

And then it suddenly hit her.

“Holy fucking crap!” she shrieked, and immediately she clasped her hand in front of her mouth in shock at the sound of her voice, which had dropped several octaves since yesterday.

A man’s voice.

Malfoy’s voice!

She was now in Malfoy’s body. She knew she was going to be, but that didn’t lessen the shock at all.

She took strong deep breaths to calm herself. In and out, in and out... She sat herself upright and looked down at herself. Even in her pyjamas, she could clearly see that this definitely was not her body. She shimmied herself out of bed and stumbled towards the mirror to give herself a look.

The polyjuice-potion had worked alright. There was Malfoy, in Hermione’s pyjamas, looking back at her with an odd flabbergasted look on his face. In any other situation Hermione would have laughed at the uncharacteristic facial expression he was sporting, but right now Malfoy could be wearing a pink tutu with fluffy bunny-ears strapped to his head while doing the bunny-hop dance and she still wouldn’t be able to crack a smile. Hermione absentmindedly started poking her face whilst staring into the mirror. This whole thing was so odd it was uncanny. She did not only look different; she felt different. She could feel how her whole body was rearranged. Even when she had walked over to the mirror she could feel a difference in the steps she had taken. This was not too surprising, since the basic differences in muscle-mass and bone-construction between male and female bodies force them to move differently. But actually living it felt very surreal. As if she had been in forced bed-rest for two weeks and had to get accustomed to the sensation of walking again.

Self-consciously Hermione let her hands slide down over her chest. She never had been the kind of girl to flaunt with low-cut cleavages, but she did feel rather mournful over now having lost her breasts, even if it was only momentarily. She quickly dropped her hands as she considered the fact that at this very moment, Malfoy could be standing in his room doing the very same thing, but she supposed he wouldn’t be mourning. Or perhaps he would be, but that would probably be directed at another body-part. One she was going to have to face sooner or later. And if it were up to Hermione: later. She had imagined her first look of a naked man to be slightly different. Perhaps when that naked man wasn’t Hermione herself. Well, it wasn’t exactly Hermione; it was Malfoy. But she most definitely hadn’t imagined seeing him naked either. But it looked like she was going to have to, and in the spirit of honesty; she was kind of curious. She needed to get dressed all the same anyway.

But into what?

She just wanted to smack herself over the head for not having thought of this sooner. She couldn’t go and put her own clothes on, now could she? She was going to have to borrow some of Malfoy. Hell, she really didn’t feel like facing him right now. He was in her body for Merlin’s sake. Draco Malfoy was in her body! This felt so sickening she just wanted to hurl.

But still, she had to get out of her room sooner or later. So she gathered up her strength, collected some of her clothes for Malfoy to wear, put on a robe, marched over to Malfoy’s room and knocked on his door.

“Go away!” a muffled voice replied.

“Malfoy?” Hermione replied. Somehow, she wasn’t really prepared to hear her own voice come from the other side of that door; especially not when she was addressing Malfoy. “Trust me, I’m not here for my entertainment; I just thought that we needed to exchange some of our clothes.”

“Just leave it by the door. I’ll drop some off at yours later,” he replied.

“Malfoy, stop being such a wanker and give me something to wear!” Hermione yelled. She was a little taken aback by the sound of her own voice that, now that she was getting a little pissed off, sounded so much like Malfoy it was damn scary. “I know what you look like. It’s not like I haven’t seen myself before. Really how-“

Hermione gasped as Malfoy suddenly opened the door and she was faced with herself, sneering at her.

“Here!” Malfoy said annoyedly as he quickly shoved a stack of clothes in Hermione’s hands. He hastily snatched the stack she was carrying out of her hands and slammed the door in her face.

“Ow, this is going to be horrible” Hermione mused as she got back to her room to get dressed.

*

“I can’t believe this is happening to me!” Draco said to himself as he looked into the mirror and the familiar face of the Gryffindor know-it-all was staring back at him. “Not only have I been savagely unmanned, but I’ve been reduced to a Mudblood and a Gryffindor.”

Never in his life has he felt so utterly embarrassed. And quite frankly; he has been embarrassed a lot in his life. He turned himself around as he tried to get a full view of himself. Everything about this body felt odd. There was only one way to describe it; he felt feminine. In any other situation the thought of getting to spend limited amount of time in a female body would be appealing, for several reasons which should be quite obvious for any heterosexual teenage-boy. But this was Granger’s body; the bushy-haired Potty-lover who wouldn’t even discover her feminine wiles if they slapped her in the face.

Draco walked over to the stack of clothes Granger had dropped off and started rummaging through them to see if anything would suffice.

“O bugger!” he grunted as he untangled a blue cotton bra from between the pile.

Yep, he was going to be totally female; with all accessories.

“36 C?” Draco gasped in awe. “Where has she been hiding those?”

He let his hands drop to his pyjama-covered chest and cupped a feel at his new assets. He quickly let go of them once he realised what he was doing and buried his face in his hands.

“Bugger! Bugger! Bugger!”

He raised his head and took a deep breath. He needed to change his perspective on things. Sure, this was Granger’s body, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t have any fun. If he was going to get through these seven days without permanent mental scarring; that was the perspective he was going to have to see things through.

“Well then” he thought to himself as he turned towards the mirror, “lets take a look at those C’s she has been hiding from the world.”

*



“Doesn’t he have anything else but black?” Hermione thought as she rummaged through the pile of clothing Malfoy had given her. About a year and a half ago, Malfoy had decided that the Goth-look suited him. And in all honesty; it did. With his pale skin and silvery-blond hair, all the black gave him an Angel-Of-Death sort of look; which was appealing if you’re into that sort of thing. Hermione was at least grateful that he didn’t wear eyeliner, because that would have been disastrous. Not so much for Malfoy’s appearance; but for her skill -or lack there of- in having to apply it. She never really was into enhancing her looks. She wasn’t a stunner by nature and she was fine with that. Not that she was unattractive, she was just... plain. She knew she could easily perk up her mundane appearance, like she did for the Yule ball in her fourth year, but that just took up way more time than she cared for. Time she could be spending on things that are more important.

Finally she had settled for a simple body fitting black shirt, black pants and green boxers (which couldn’t help but make her blush). She decided she would first go and clean herself up (and pretty much anything else she could do to stall having to go change her clothing).

After she had brushed her teeth and washed her face she couldn’t help but gawk into the mirror. Malfoy was looking odd. Without the trademark sneer sporting his face, he almost looked pleasant. At least now she could understand why all the girls (and a fair share of the boys) were fanning over him.

Not that she would ever admit that out loud.

*



‘How girls can get any work done during the day is beyond me’ Malfoy thought to himself. In the spirit of seeing things in a new and positive perspective, he had quickly gotten rid of his clothes so he could admire himself in the mirror. He just couldn’t get over the fact that; if one has breasts available to them every single moment of the day, why they wouldn’t play with them all the time.

To him that was a crime against nature.

Another thing he couldn’t get over of was that Granger didn’t look all that revolting in the buff as he had expected. Actually, she looked rather... appealing (“for a Mudblood!” he told himself). She even had curves, something most girls these days seemed to be most anxious to get rid of. Draco had always found himself surrounded with girls who virtually looked like stilts. As his hands gave his voluptuous breasts a gentle squeeze he made a mental note to in the future go for girls who have slightly more to play with.

         After a good deal of ogling, poking, prodding, jumping, touching and strategic usage of a hand-mirror Draco decided to get dressed. The thought of having to wear Muggle-born clothing wasn’t all that alluring, but an inevitability at this point. He put on a pair of knickers that, in his opinion, were rather unimaginative to almost boring. His next move was to put on a bra, but suddenly found himself ill-equipped to do so.

         “Shite!” he thought as he let the delicate undergarment dangle in front of his face. He knew very well how to get these things off, but had no experience in actually getting them on. But he sure as hell wasn’t going to ask for help on a matter as this, so he would just see how it works as he got along.

“Damn hooks,” he grunted. As he got one in the other two popped out again or something or other.

After quite some time he was finally able to get the thing on and moved on to the rest of the clothes.

*

By now Hermione had stripped down and, instead of immediately dressing herself, couldn’t resist a brief look into the mirror.

If only that ‘brief look’ hadn’t turned into a full-blown inspection.

She had to hand it to Malfoy; he was a ‘handsome piece of man-flesh’ as her classmate Parvati Patil would put it. Quidditch really had done the boy some good. He was built as a Seeker; lean and slender yet with well-defined muscle tissue. He had a scattering of soft pale hairs on his muscular arms and legs and lower abdomen. His entire body was just a pale as his face, almost to a point where it was angelic.

‘What a contrast to the inner side of him’ Hermione thought huffily.

Hermione could help but blush fiercely as she let her gaze travel downwards. Perhaps it was because she herself was currently the possessor of the male genital in question, but it didn’t really look all that bad as she thought it would.

Hermione smiled victoriously and went to get dressed. Now after being faced with her male-self in the buff, she quite thought she could deal with this situation.

This part sure was the worst of it, right?

...

Right?

***************

End of day one, part one.
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Why Draco Should Not Be Using Tampons