Runes Master

Amending the Altercations

Harry and Ron easily stalked the two small first year Slytherins that the redhead thought were the best choice. Those two usually went unnoticed. The Gryffindor infiltrators used a full body bind on them and dragged the two poor boys in a broom closet. They did so from behind, never showing themselves. Once in the closet, they cut a few hairs from each and assured them they would come back to free them later. They had nothing against them in particular but it had to be done.

Next, they went to the bathroom-turned-potion-lab and presented the hairs to Hermione who finished the potion wordlessly. She handed them each their vial, fighting her conscience who banged on the walls of her mind. It had to be done. The boys each entered their stall and drank the smelly mixture. Oddly enough it tasted better than Crabbe's and Goyle's. It was disturbing to think that some Slytherins tasted better than others. They preferred not to think about it anymore. The process in itself was as painful as they remembered. Even more, since their targets were way smaller than them, forcing the Gryffindor through even more changes. They kept the rest of the cauldron in individual vials for later uses, or if they had to stay transformed for more than an hour. Hermione managed to make their uniforms fit their new size, and changed their house crest on their chest as well as the color of their ties.

Ron and Harry finally each took a backpack full of surprises and went back down to the dungeons to prepare a greeting from the Holiday's vacations for Draco like he never had before.

Draco's new year began very badly. In fact, it was the worst he ever had, ever. Even later, looking back at it, he'd still see it as the worst. It wasn't once or twice a day now. He became a walking hex. People started looking at him from afar, waiting for something to happen. Whatever time of the day it was, they didn't have to wait very long.

Each morning, his hair took a new, random color. At first, it was all Slytherin colors. Silver. Green. Snakes. Oh yeah. He looked like the Medusa more than once and the small first years were running away from him, taking great care not to look at him in the eyes. One day, he thought his hair would finally stay his healthy bleached blond color. They turned white. He guessed the spells must have been wearing off so he didn't bother with it much, it wasn't that bad. Anyway, he had Charms and didn't have the time to have them changed back right away.

Unfortunately for him, in the middle of the class, professor Flitwick started to stare at him and asked Draco to come closer. As he passed the rows of seats - since he always sat in the back - the quiet snickering began once again. He wondered what color it was now and was thankful to the teacher for dealing with it right away. That was not to be the case. The Charm teacher poked at his hair with his wand, getting a reaction and a yawn.

'A yawn?' Draco asked himself.

Conjuring a small mirror for the young man to see, Flitwick resumed probing at the intriguing hair cut. Draco blinked twice at what he saw in the mirror. A ferret. A white ferret. His hair had formed a white ferret, a moving one. Flitwick spent the rest of the class examining the charm used to accomplish that and what it could do before dispelling it when the bell rang.

There was also a little problem with the fires. Each time he got too close to any of them, they would at least double in intensity. How many ruined potions…

He couldn't sleep well either. His bed got colder as the night passed. He started waking up around midnight with his face aching like crazy as if it was spread with itching powder. The first time it happened, he looked in his bedside mirror, expecting a colony of ants getting busy. Instead, he saw the face of a rotting Inferi. He never looked at this mirror again. He got used to midnight showers to get rid of whatever was so itchy.

Then, dungbombs started to explode as he opened his trunk.

His books refused to open for him.

His school bag always seemed full with almost nothing in it.