Chapter 83: 5-2

I was absolutely exhausted. Having taken refuge in a corner of the Great Hall, I crouched down with a random glass of juice I'd grabbed in one hand.

Originally, I was only supposed to dance with Anthony. I had never planned on dancing this much. I mean, really...

"Harry, Ginny, Granger, the Veela girl, Diggory, the redheaded brother (Ron), and the prankster twins—and now Astoria too. Our former hero is quite the popular one, aren't you?"

"You could have at least kept Astoria occupied!"

I lovingly stomped on the foot of the smirking owner of those ice-gray eyes looking down at me.

"How unladylike. It couldn't be helped. Astoria said she wanted to dance with you. You're the one who showed off that you could lead by dancing with Ginny first. Did you really think I could refuse Astoria's request?"

"Is that so? How perfectly chummy of you two!"

I roughly knocked back the champagne glass filled with juice. Draco's stare was painful. Please stop looking at me with the same eyes Ginny gave 'me' whenever I came home dead drunk.

"I'm going to step out for a bit."

"Got a blister from your shoes?"

"Thanks to you, I'm completely used to heels. I'm just going to cool off."

"In that case—wait, what about your partner?"

"He's being toyed with by the twins from my House. Look, over there. He's being spun around endlessly by either Fred or George. I wonder when they set their sights on him. ...Ah, you don't need to come with me. I'm just going for a walk around here. Why don't you go check on Astoria? She's resting in the common room, right?"

With an old-man-like groan of effort, I stood up and shoved my empty champagne glass at Draco. I headed for the exit, recalling Hermione's 'Lady-like Etiquette' lessons. ("Keep your legs together when you sit!" "Don't take such wide strides!")

The Yule Ball had completely devolved into a chaotic, free-for-all, free-entry lawless zone. Ginny was still energetically clinging to Harry, and Ron was... well, let's just leave my two best friends alone for now. I might just spark an unnecessary fire.

Anyway, no one was paying attention to me anymore. I'd better evacuate before I got dragged into another dance.

Passing through the Entrance Hall, I emerged into the rose garden and walking paths. Hearing sickeningly sweet giggles coming from the nearby bushes, I let out a groan and hung my head. I see, so it's become that kind of fun zone. How ridiculous must I look, standing here without a partner? ...Well, it's not like they can even see their surroundings. They're entirely engrossed in each other.

However, going back to that lawless zone was also... I was stuck, but then.

"Hm?"

"...Potter."

A little further down the path stood a boy, also lingering alone. Theodore Nott. Out of the awkwardness of both being without partners, I naturally found myself going over to talk to him. Even though he hated me.

"You look like you've been having quite the time."

"You... don't look like you're having fun?"

"I have no interest in dancing."

"So you ran away. Bad timing."

"You did too, didn't you?"

Before I knew it, we were walking side by side. Our conversation flowed smoother than expected, and I found myself getting slightly carried away, thinking maybe he didn't hate me as much as I thought.

How should I put it... even in my 'previous life,' I hadn't interacted with him that much—Draco said he was a lone wolf—but he seemed to have strong prejudiced tendencies. Whether it was about Mudbloods, or a more fundamental misogyny..

...Maybe that wasn't the case after all. I tend to make harsh assumptions myself—and no matter how much you dislike someone, no one actively wants to make enemies. If we could just get along like this—

"—You have good taste."

Theodore suddenly said, staring at me.

"Ah, yeah. Draco put this together for me."

"Malfoy, huh."

He immediately looked like he'd bitten into a sour bug, making me chuckle involuntarily. The rumor that Slytherin was divided into a Draco faction and a Theodore faction seemed to be true after all. According to Astoria, anyway.

"Yep. It was his premeditated crime."

My guard dropped at his childish reaction, and I ended up treating him like a friend. Just for a moment—I really hoped we could actually become friends. —But.

"When a man gifts clothes to a woman—do you not know the intent behind it?"

Theodore came to a halt, his eyes giving off a strange gleam. Hostility... no. Mockery... that wasn't it either. What on earth was it?

"You seem oblivious to such things—but to dress a woman up himself and then send her off to another man. He really is quite something..."

The next smile was unmistakably a sneer. I couldn't be certain whether it was directed at Draco or me, but—it seemed he really didn't like us after all.

"The necklace, the earrings, they are things you wear directly on your skin. And to top it off, a dress—Maria, you've been claimed."

Theodore whispered this softly, like a lover's sweet nothing, and before I knew it, I had thrust the wand I was subconsciously gripping right against his throat.

"—Just for the record, I want to ask: was that an insult toward Draco? Or advice for me?"

"...Hmm? So you're not an idiot utterly devoid of caution."

"Caution isn't caution if you let them realize it. You'd do well to remember that."

"I deeply appreciate the advice."

Theodore raised both hands and backed away. He gave a creepy smile at me as I continued to point my wand at him, then left with a graceful bow and headed back. Left behind, I stood dumbfounded, completely forgetting the romantic atmosphere around me. ...What was he trying to achieve?

As the Yule Ball drew to a close, having said my goodnights to Anthony, I was being led up to the eighth floor by Draco. Pacing the corridor three times. Beyond the opened door was a dance hall. —The Room of Requirement, the room Draco and I used for our dance lessons.

"Draco?"

"—May I have this final dance, my lady?"

Turning around, Draco offered his hand with an exaggerated flourish. ...It was infuriating how well it suited him.

"Draco... haven't I danced with you enough already?"

"For practice, yes."

"Thanks to that, the real thing was a huge success. More than enough, really. I'm completely done."

"I see... then I suppose this was a waste."

Draco pulled something from his robes and gave it a light shake. —A small vial. A potion.

"—A Gender-Swapping Potion."

Reading my dubious expression, Draco brought the vial up next to his face and smirked.

"Why...?"

"Didn't you say it yourself? —That you wouldn't mind dancing if you were the male lead."

He took my hand and led me one, two steps into the hall.

"This is a room that provides what you wish for. I figured I wouldn't need to go out of my way to order men's clothes since I could leave it to you to conjure them. Or would you prefer I coordinate your outfit from head to toe as well, sir?"

"Draco, wait. I don't follow. What are you..."

"—Harry, and Maria, they both belong to everyone."

Halt. We stopped dead in the center of the hall. —We were the only ones there.

"What if I said—I want to see a 'you' that belongs only to me?"

Draco's eyes were so earnestly sincere it felt almost foolish.

"A 'me' that belongs... only to you—?"

"No one has ever seen you after you've regained your male gender. Not 'your' Granger, or Weasley, or Harry—not even you, Maria."

"......"

Suddenly, a wave of embarrassment washed over me. Just like that day when I was confronted with the fact that I was a girl—the swell of my chest, my height that was shorter than Harry's, my voice that wouldn't drop, the very inside of my stomach—I was hopelessly reminded that I was a 'woman'.

In a female body—why was I standing in front of Draco, a man? Having my hand led like a little girl, wearing a dress of all things.

"Maria?"

"Let, let go... Yeah, I get it. I'll drink it. That's what you want, right? So let go of my hand."

"...Alright."

I shook off a bewildered Draco. —Even though you're the one making me feel so weird!

"In exchange, you have to drink it too. —That."

"Huh?"

"You want to see a 'me' that belongs only to you, right? If so—you have to give me a 'you' that belongs only to me, too."

It was meant to be a minor retaliation. It was completely different from me, someone who was originally male, returning to being male. I was telling Draco, who had lived his whole life as a man, to become a woman. I figured he'd be troubled—that he'd hate it. And yet.

"...Heh."

"...Draco?"

"Heheh... hahahaha, pfft."

Draco was laughing. Not his usual cynical, condescending smirk where only the corners of his mouth curled up. He was doubling over. Barely covering his mouth with his hand. Looking exactly like a fourteen-year-old boy—laughing with genuine amusement.

"What a pick-up line. Complete defeat, Potter."

"Wh... what?! Me, hitting on you? Are you an idiot?!"

"Yes, yes, I know perfectly well. That's why I can't stop laughing. You really are sinful."

"Whatever you say!"

I snatched the vial from Draco and gulped down half of it. Feeling like clothes were nearby, I turned my head and saw a set of men's dress robes hanging on the wall.

My body tingled—there was no pain. I was relieved it didn't have the side effects of Polyjuice Potion—and I could feel the dress getting tighter. As I walked towards the wall, shedding clothes along the way, I had completely returned to a male physique by the time I reached it. Ignoring the muffled laughter still coming from behind me, I put on the clothes. Once I'd even changed into the shoes politely prepared beneath the hanger—

"...Phew."

I felt like it was somehow easier to breathe. My body had returned... that was the feeling.

"Draco, I'm changed... oh, right, undo my hair. And my face too. I don't know what Hermione did, but she messed with it. It's not something a simple Finite Incantatem can undo, right?"

Looking back, Draco, seemingly having finished laughing his fill, stood there with his usual smirk, a few tears in his eyes.

"...What is it?"

"No, I just thought you looked exactly like a beautiful woman in men's clothing."

"I'm sure it looks ridiculous!"

With Draco's mouth still twitching, I turned my head away haughtily and let him remove my hair accessories. My hair length was just slightly shorter than Maria's, and the face that Hermione had painted and drawn on was washed clean at a sink I conjured in my mind. Wiping off the moisture with a towel that had appeared out of nowhere—the reflection in the mirror was a boy with red hair and hazel eyes.

Good grief, I'm better-looking than when I was Harry. Mom's genetics are completely unfair!

I understood why Draco teased me about being a beautiful woman in drag. I was handsome, but—the male version of Maria had a remarkably feminine face.

"There, my preparations are done. Now you hurry up, drink that, and embarrass yourself just like I did."

"Embarrassment? I'll be your exclusive lady. You should be grateful, shouldn't you?"

"Yeah, yeah, a cute face means nothing with a personality like yours."

"......You should have directed that line at the mirror, Potter."

While bantering, I watched Draco down the rest of the vial. The change was immediate. His height shrank, and his clothes became baggy. It suddenly occurred to me that it looked similar to an Animagus transformation.

Speaking of Animagi, I wonder what Peter Pettigrew is doing right now—

While I was spacing out, Draco's gender swap was complete.

"......"

"...Potter?"

A beautiful girl. Ethereal blond hair and thick eyelashes. Small lips tinted faintly pink, and eyes caught between gray and blue that looked mystical. Because male Draco had let his hair grow long enough to tie back, it added even more to his girlishness. When she tilted her head slightly, silky golden threads cascaded down her shoulders. —A flawless, beautiful girl stood right there.

"Oh... my voice... it's like a canary! What do you think, Potter? I'm beautiful even as a woman, aren't I?"

"Ugh... the inside is still Malfoy... Ugh..."

"What kind of reaction is that?"

I slumped my shoulders, feeling like my illusions had been shattered. Looking closely, her chest was even larger than Maria's... Why did I have to feel so frustrated over something like this?

"Just... whatever, hurry up and change. I threw my clothes over there, though."

"...You want me to wear that dress?"

"You picked it out, didn't you? It's green, so there's no way it won't suit you."

Draco... somehow calling a female Draco "Draco" felt weird. Ah, is that why he... wait, she? has been calling me Potter instead of Harry or Maria? Then I suppose "Malfoy" is the safest bet here.

Malfoy was pinching the dress with a highly conflicted expression. Serves you right. You can experience exactly how I felt when I was forced to cross-dress.

"...Are you absolutely sure about this? I'll be wearing clothes you just wore, you know? Don't complain later."

"What exactly is there to complain about?"

Sulking, Malfoy—frustratingly enough, even that expression looked cute on her. Only her face!—was muttering something about not knowing 'where the line for modesty begins' as she began to take off the baggy dress robes. 'Where the line for modesty begins'...? —Wait, no, more importantly!

"Wait a minute! Are you going to strip right in front of me?!"

"Is there a problem?"

"Of course there's a problem! Right now, you're a girl..."

"......"

"......"

"...I see, so doing this would have been much quicker."

I gently turned my back to him... her... and looked up at the ceiling.

It certainly would have been quicker... because now I understood firsthand exactly why Draco had been so strict with me, Maria!

"There, I'm changed."

At Malfoy's now utterly adorable voice, I turned around, feeling helpless.

"—It suits you perfectly. Malfoy. You're beautiful."

"Naturally. It's me, after all."

She was a beautiful girl even when acting arrogant and haughty. A doll-like beauty that didn't need makeup at all. The green dress looked as if it had been tailored specifically for her. And yet—she pinched the dress and smiled, saying, "It still suits you better than it does me."

Music began to play from out of nowhere. It was the exact same song from when we were practicing, and looking at each other, we both burst into laughter at the same time.

"May I have your hand? —My lady."

Softly, red, gold, and green danced through the air.