Chapter 17

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The thing about brewing the polyjuice potion is that we have to attend to it every spare second of every day. For me, that is proving quite difficult. After making up with Draco, he hardly leaves me alone. He wants to spend all of lunch and break with me, and often meets with me after lessons. Harry, Ron and Hermione have often had to go off into the bathroom without me, to avoid suspicion. Besides, I enjoy spending time with Draco. After we fell out, it seems nice to be able to talk once again. Of course, the news has gone around the whole school that we've made up.

After History of Magic, I leave Hermione, Ron and Harry to go into the bathroom to work on the potion, which has now been brewing for a month. Tonight, it will be ready to drink. Harry, however, is becoming increasingly impatient. I leave the classroom with Draco. Much to my secret hatred, I hear the shrill laughter of Pansy behind us, and see her skip up to me and Draco. 'Oh, look at you both. Aren't you such a lovely couple?' She spits, glaring at me.
'Get lost, Parkinson.' I snarl.
'She's got a bit of a temper, I see.' Pansy smirks wickedly.
'Get lost, Pansy.' Draco warns, and she gives him a long look before going the other way.

'Sorry about her.' Draco mutters as we sit down.
'It's fine, she's never liked me.' I shrug.
'I'm not going to disagree there, she really hates you.' Draco looks at me. 'She's jealous.' At this, I burst into fits of laughter. 'What?'
'Bloody Parkinson in Slytherin is jealous of Gryffindor Dolittle? I think not.'
'No, seriously. She's jealous of the fact that you're so close with me, definitely. She's always going on about it. And you're really clever. And, you know, pretty.' Draco shrugs. My heart skips a beat for a fraction of a second. What?

'She seems to have a bit of a thing for you, you know.' I inform Draco, looking down at the grass. 'Huh?'
'Pansy. You've never really seen it, to be honest. She's practically in love with you.'
'I don't think so, Lyssa.'
'There! Seriously, she is. It's quite annoying.'
'I can't help it. I mean, look at me.' He shrugs, and I shove him playfully.

'Right, I need to go back to the common room and start that essay, I'll see you tomorrow morning, yeah?'
'Yeah, see you in the morning.' Draco stands and walks me back up to the castle. When I depart, I take a detour and hurry into the out of order toilets. 'How's it looking?' I ask once I sit down.
'Good, really good. Should be able to drink it tonight.' Hermione nods.
'Brilliant. Listen, I've been doing some thinking. I don't think I should take it.'

The three look at me with mixed emotions on their faces. 'I'll put the whole operation at risk! Even if I turn into Parkinson, Draco knows me like the back of his hand, and he'll probably sniff me out and then we'll be in serious trouble. For one, Draco knows how much I hate Pansy. Maybe I should just keep an eye on Crabbe and Goyle, just to make sure the sleeping draught keeps working.'
'I've been thinking about that, too. Maybe you should sit this one out, in case he finds us all out. Besides, if you turned into Parkinson you'd have to act like you were in love with him.'
'Wouldn't be difficult.' I hear Ron snigger. I draw my wand and point it at his chest. 'I will hex you.' I threaten.

Hermione and me eventually lift the heavy cauldron and begin separating the liquid into three different containers. I hand each one out and watch as my three best friends start to chug down their potions, each one pulling a horrified face. 'I think I'm gonna be sick.' Ron mutters, dropping his container with a smash and running to the toilet. 'Me too.' Hermione breaths, also dropping her flask and running for a cubicle. Harry stands over the sink, and I hear another smash as I watch.

His skin erupts with little bumps that seems to be bubbles boiling on the surface of his skin. To my horror, his face is beginning to change into the face of Goyle. He looks in the mirror in utter astonishment. Ron walks out of his cubicle, but he's not Ron. He's Crabbe. 'Harry?' He whispers is dismay. I hurry to Hermione's cubicle. 'Hermione! Are you okay?'
'I - I don't think I'm going. Tell the boys to go on, they're wasting time.' I do as Hermione asks and the boys reluctantly leave the bathroom.

'They've gone. Hermione, open up! It's only me.'
'No! Look, all I'm going to say is that something has gone wrong. I thought you were going to keep an eye on the real Crabbe and Goyle.'
'I'm certain that they'll be fully knocked out, the dimwits. Hermione, please!' I bang on the door, trying and trying, but a protesting Hermione is so far getting her way. After about half an hour, I hear the shrieking laughter of Moaning Myrtle within the cubicle, and she floats through the door in a fit of giggles. 'That's made my afterlife.' She coughs as she floats around the bathroom, every now and again peering in at Hermione.

'That was close.' I hear Ron pant. The hour must be up. He catches sight of me. 'Has she still not come out?'
'Hermione, open up.' Harry shouts, and the pair walk over to the door. Myrtle laughs once again. 'Wait until you see . . . It's awful.' She cackles.
'Do you remember me saying that the polyjuice potion is only for human transformations?' Hermione turns around, and I feel my eyes going wide. 'It was cat hair I plucked off Millicent Bulstrobe's robes.' And as Hermione turns and steps into the light, a sheer shock overcomes my face and body. Hermione is a cat.

Distance // Draco MalfoyWhere stories live. Discover now