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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 three: Tuesday

Hermione didn’t think it was just.

         Why did Malfoy get the good chunk of hair? She was the girl (or was anyways), so why did she get stuck with a ball of yarn while Malfoy gets hair that is just basically silk. She found herself standing a surprising amount of time in front of the mirror just running her hand through her hair just to see it fall exactly into place again.

It was not normal.

Yesterday they had exchanged their grooming products. It was quite necessary, since it would be quite odd if Draco Malfoy were to show up for breakfast smelling like Hermione’s strawberry shower gel.

Through this Hermione had found out an interesting thing.

Draco Malfoy,...

...the high and mighty Slytherin pureblood-prat,...

...used...

...baby-shampoo!

Would she be so mean as to tease him with this?

...

Yes!

...

Duh!

...

Hermione would also be having to shave her beard today, since she had finally grown a five-o-clock shadow. Hermione had been quite surprised that it hadn’t been necessary sooner. She had started to think Malfoy didn’t grow any facial hair, but apparently it was just a little slow.

“Like his brain,” she thought with a smirk as she lathered her face with shaving cream. If she had been jealous of him because of his hair, she sure was jealous of him now. She, like most girls, openly resented the male species for only having to shave their faces. But Malfoy apparently only had to shave his face... what? Once or twice a week? This while Hermione (in her old body) had to shave and/or pluck the hair on her legs, armpits, bikini-zone, eyebrows and -not that she would even admit this under gunpoint- upper lip.

“Ruddy bastard,” Hermione mumbled as she carefully traced the razorblade over the base of her neck.

*

            Draco was standing in the shower, washing his hair. He was starting to get quite used to handling the bushy mess Granger was born with. He actually thought he could handle it better than she did. After they would have their old bodies back, he would have to introduce the girl to a little thing called ‘hair conditioner’. He did still get a little overwhelmed when in the morning he woke up shrouded with some sort of curly mass.

         But after a few seconds the situation tended to sink back in.

It was a little disturbing how well he took all this in, changing gender and all. Sure, even if the change was permanent he would never be able to see himself as a girl -and he would probably kill himself if it actually were permanent- but sporting the knowledge that it wasn’t made him feel reasonably comfortable in his new attire.

But meanwhile he did find out a lot of stuff about girls he really didn’t care to know about.

Well, he did know them, he just -like most other males he reckoned- liked to pretend they didn’t do all those things. But now he was forced to realise that, for instance, a girl’s digestion system worked just the same as a guy’s; with everything that came along with it.

He liked it better when girls were these perfect mythical Veela-esque creatures that only used bathrooms for girly-gossip or re-applying their make-up and never had to release any form of air from any parts of their bodies.

Damn shattered illusions!

Things would at least be a lot better if only he didn’t have to spend time with the Gryffindors. Draco did have to admit; the conversations might be boring as Hell, but they did know how to brighten up the place with their spontaneous outbursts of ‘having some fun’. But how they suddenly seem to be able to conjure up two dozen pints of Butterbeer (or what not) was beyond him.   His head was now thumping from a vicious hang-over as a result from the amount of spirited beverages he had digested last night. He really shouldn’t have been drinking so much, but he found that constantly having a glass to his lips kept him from having to talk to people. Somehow the thought that Granger’s body wasn’t as used to alcohol as his was had slipped his mind.

Well, now he knew.

Painfully.

Draco was actually quite relieved to note that Granger wasn’t exactly what they call a typical girly-girl. Hence; he wasn’t called in to do much girl talk.

Thank God.

Although he would find himself quite apt to fill several minutes of conversation about ‘the time of the month’. Something he felt both proud and disturbed about. Same thing when he finally was able to use those bloody tampons.

Proud and disturbed.

He also found himself having an unusual craving for hugs. He assumed that this was a side-effect to the ‘time of the month’-thing. Quite disquieting since he never was much of a hugger... at all. That perhaps explains why most girls seem to have to hold on to a pillow or blanket or any other fluffy object before they could sit down and relax themselves.

Odd.

At first he was quite thankful that he wouldn’t be having to shave his face for the coming week. But after a day or so her realised that he had to start shaving other body parts instead. Something that wasn’t quite a easy as it looked. Over the last few days he had gashed open his ankles several times over.

And it wasn’t only shaving.

Oh no.

There was also plodding.

Damn girls. Why can’t they just be born bald?

Draco also found it quite interesting to note that he didn’t actually feel more primitive. He figured that residing in the body of a Muggle-born would feel like taking a step back in the evolutionary stases. But it really didn’t.

He wasn’t exactly sure what that meant actually.

But he did know one thing:

            He really should cut back on playing with his breasts. This was getting ridiculous.

*

Hermione was sitting in potions class, which she shared with the Slytherins (or better the Gryffindors, since she was a Slytherin now), waiting for class to start when suddenly she heard her own name pop up in a conversation. Hermione tried to lean backwards far enough so she could hear, but not too far so it would be obvious that she was eavesdropping.

“Hermione did what?” Seamus shrieked in shock.

         “She kissed Lavender,” Neville repeated.

         Hermione’s jaw dropped in horror. HERMIONE DID WHAT?

         “When?” Seamus asked eagerly.

         “Last night,” Neville said.

         “I knew it!”

         “Knew what?”

         “That she was batting for the other team,” Seamus said triumphantly.

         “How did you know?”

         “Well, she’s a little butch, now isn’t she?”

         “HEY!” Hermione yelled indignantly as she twisted around in her seat to face the two gossipers.

         “What’s up with you Malfoy?” Seamus asked disgustedly.

         ‘Shit!’ Hermione thought as reality suddenly sank in.

         “Nothing that concerns you, Finnigan,” she said in the most resentful voice she could muster. “I’d just appreciate that you kept your despicable gossiping to yourself. There’s no need for me to know about the Mudblood and the twisted urges her primitive mind seems to contain.”

         ‘That sounds about right’ she thought.

         “Oh please” Seamus said. “Look who’s pretending to be a homophobe. What about you and Blaise Zabini then?”

         “What about me and Blaise Zabini?” Hermione frowned.

         “Like you don’t know,” Seamus said suggestively.

         “Why don’t you tell m-" Hermione said aggressively, momentarily forgetting that the angry banter was directed at Malfoy and not at her, but got cut off when Malfoy walked in and all eyes turned towards him. Lavender seemed to twist in her seat rather nervously.

         ‘That stupid idiot!’ she thought, fuming.

*



         “What did you do?” Hermione bellowed as she dragged Draco into their common room.

         “Having a hang-over,” Draco grunted while rubbing his head.

         “You kissed Lavender Brown!” Hermione shrieked while waving her arms.

         “Oh.”

         “Indeed... ‘oh’. Now everyone thinks I’m gay!”

         “Well, at least now there’s something exotic about you,” Draco said with a smirk.

         “Bugger off, Malfoy!” Hermione spat. “What the Hell happened?”

         “Well, the Gryffindors started having another party in the common room because Finnigan finally was able to turn water into Rum.”

         “And...” Hermione insisted.

         “There was a lot of Rum and things got a little carried away and-”



         “You decided it would be a good idea to go smooching with one of my former dorm-mates?”

         “Basically,” Draco said with a shrug.

         “You go and fix this, damn you!” Hermione yelled.

         “Fine. Fine. Fine” Draco said dismissingly. “But only if you patch things up with Pansy.”

         “O Jeez...”

         “Granger!”

         “Fine! I’ll patch things up with Pansy if you make everyone stop thinking that I fancy girls.”

         “Fine!”

         “Fine!”

*********

End of day three.
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Why Draco Should Not Be Using Tampons