HP: She married Malfoy after becoming an exchange student.

"what!"

Draco tried to shout, but the sound got stuck in his throat, and he only managed a short, muffled scream.

Elias stood there, his silver eyes fixed on the panicked girl in the mirror, his ears gradually turning red.

Objectively speaking, Draco's current appearance was far from presentable. Perhaps due to the excessive flow of water, his shirt was mostly soaked, now wrinkled and clinging to his body, outlining his slender waist and the soft curve of his chest. The collar was open, and his straight collarbone could be vaguely seen below.

He stood in the dim light of the fireplace, pale, thin, and swaying, like a white rose soaked by rain.

Elias stepped forward, took off his own robe, and draped it over Draco's shoulders. The robe was so large that it almost completely enveloped Draco, leaving only his pale, wet face visible.

"Sit down first," Elias said, his voice much lower than usual. "Don't catch a cold."

Draco grabbed Elias in a panic, his eyes wide open: "I...how could I...this chocolate—"

Elias quickly pulled his hand back; he dared not touch Draco now. "It must be transsexual chocolate; someone gave it to Filch's cat before."

Draco, wrapped in a robe, huddled in the corner of his bed. The robe was a dark color, the dark green fabric bunched up on his legs, making his skin appear even whiter.

Draco hugged his legs, resting his chin on his knees, deep in thought as he pondered who might be plotting against him. His long, wet, platinum-blonde hair cascaded over his shoulders, water droplets falling onto the sheets, creating dark polka dots.

Draco frowned, staring at the puddle of water, his grey-blue eyes half-closed, his mind in turmoil. He bit his lip, his teeth sinking into the soft flesh, leaving faint teeth marks.

After racking his brains for a while, Draco concluded that he hadn't offended anyone recently. Unable to reach a conclusion, he lowered his head in frustration and asked Elias in a muffled voice, "Can I ever turn back? How can I stay like this forever…?"

"Yes, the effects of this medicine are only temporary," Elias reassured him.

Draco took a deep breath, a small flame burning in his blue-gray eyes. Once he recovered, he would find the person who had tricked him and make them pay!

He turned back, about to tell Elias about his revenge plan, when he saw Elias had already walked to the bedside. In his hand was a small glass bottle, the liquid inside shimmering with a pale blue light, like a tranquil lake.

Elias stood on the edge of the bed, looking down at Draco. The light from the fireplace shone from behind him, bathing half of his face in warm light, while the other half remained in shadow, his expression unreadable.

He crouched down, bringing his gaze level with Draco's. Then he reached out and gently pressed the glass bottle against Draco's cheek.

Draco was startled by the cold air. "What?"

"Isn't your throat sore? Drink this."

Draco took the bottle, unscrewed the cap, and took a sip. The cool liquid soothed the sticky feeling in his throat.

"How long will it take for me to recover?" Draco asked.

"Usually it's 24 hours," Elias said, "depending on the dosage you ingest."

"Twenty-four hours?" Draco broke down. "I just ate so much! I can't... how am I supposed to go out like this?"

Elias looked at him.

Draco's face flushed crimson, the blush spreading from his cheeks to his ears, even tinging his neck pink. His long, platinum-blonde hair cascaded over his shoulders, framing his glistening eyes, making him look like a figure straight out of an oil painting.

"You don't need to go out for the next couple of days," Elias said. "I'll get you a day off, and I'll bring you whatever you want to eat."

Draco opened his mouth, wanting to refute, but found that he really didn't have a better way to do it.

Feeling uneasy, Draco pulled down the curtains and burrowed under the covers. The dark green fabric obscured the view inside, but his voice still drifted out, soft and sweet like a young girl's: "Elijas."

"Um."

Don't tell anyone.

"it is good."

……

For the next two days, Draco didn't go anywhere.

The curtains in the Slytherin dormitory were drawn even during the day, and Draco would hide there to be fed by Elias. Sometimes it was a roast beef sandwich, sometimes a Honeyduke cake, and occasionally a cup of hot cocoa that came straight from the kitchen.

Draco curled up in the corner of the bed, finished his food, placed the empty plate on the bedside table, and continued to stare blankly at the shimmering water above the curtains. His platinum blonde hair was spread out on the pillow, and his eyelashes cast a small fan-shaped shadow under his eyes.

At the Slytherin table, Pansy Parkinson had already asked twice.

"What happened to Draco?" she frowned, stabbing her steak with her fork. "I haven't seen him all day."

"He's sick," Elias said.

"What illness?" Daphne pressed.

Elias didn't want to say more: "It's not serious, but I need to rest."

Pansy and Daphne exchanged a glance but didn't press the matter further. Crabbe was in the corner breaking apart a chocolate frog, while Gore was munching on a honey candy, completely uninterested in the conversation.

The following evening, Elias was called away by Professor McGonagall.

Before leaving, he placed a pot of hot tea and a packet of Honeydukes Chocolate Frogs by Draco's bedside, saying, "I'll be back soon."

The stone gate closed behind him.

Draco waited and waited, until he had finished his tea, but Elias still hadn't returned.

Draco picked up the Chocolate Frog card and looked at it—it was Dumbledore, the old man's long white hair fluttering on the card, winking at him. Draco tossed the card aside, his stomach growling.

"Ugh, I'm so hungry. Why isn't Elias back yet?" Draco rolled over in bed, muttering to himself, "If only I could find food myself."

Wait, find it yourself...

Draco looked down at himself. His long, platinum-blonde hair cascaded down his chest, and slender fingers peeked from his sleeves, their nails rounded and tinged with a pale pink. Who could recognize him like this?

Without further ado, Draco climbed out of bed, his bare feet shivering at the cold stone floor. He found his slippers, put them on, and then started looking for his robe.

Draco wandered around the dormitory and finally found his rumpled robe at the foot of the bed; it was clearly unwearable. Thankfully, Elias hadn't left wearing his outer robe.

Draco slipped on the oversized robe, rolled up the sleeves twice to reveal his slender wrists, took a deep breath, and pushed open the bedroom door.

The common room was empty. The fireplace burned, and half a jug of pumpkin juice remained on the low table. The stone door slid open, Draco slipped out, and ascended the spiral staircase. The wall lamps cast a soft green glow, and his slippers clicked softly on the stone floor.

As Draco reached the corner of the corridor, he encountered three lower-year Slytherin students. Two girls and one boy, who appeared to be first-years, were carrying textbooks and returning from the direction of the library.

Draco stopped, looking a little guilty.

The three little snakes stopped too. Their gazes fell on him, and their eyes lit up simultaneously.

"Wow." One of the girls covered her mouth and whispered to her companion, "What a beautiful senior."

Another girl nodded vigorously, her eyes glued to Draco's face: "Her hair is so beautiful, like moonlight."

The boy blushed, lowered his head, but couldn't help secretly raising his eyes again.

Delacor didn't even glance at them, intending to simply ignore the three of them.

"Senior, which college are you from?" the first girl asked, stopping him.

"Slytherin... Slytherin," Draco began.

The three little snakes' eyes shone even brighter. The boy mustered his courage and said, "How come we've never seen you before? We know almost all the Slytherin upperclassmen—"

"Uh, I...I," Draco blurted out, making up a reason that even he didn't believe: "I just transferred from Durmstrang."

"No wonder!" The girl clapped her hands. "It's just that the robe you're wearing seems a bit too big."

Draco glanced down at the dark green robe he was wearing, instinctively clutching the collar. "Borrowed," he heard himself say. "My own hasn't arrived yet."

Just then, familiar laughter came from the other end of the corridor. Draco turned his head and saw Pansy Parkinson and Daphne Greengrass walking towards them from the direction of the library, carrying parchment and textbooks, talking as they went.

Draco's heart leaped into his throat; the appearance of an acquaintance made him eager to escape.

"Um," Draco began, his voice low, making up an excuse, "I have something to do. I'll head back now."

"Oh, okay, senior," the three students nodded obediently, looking confused.

Draco forced a smile at the three first-years, then turned and left. His slippers clattered rapidly on the stone bricks as he lowered his head, burying his face in the collar of his robe, wishing he could disappear into Elias's outer robe.

Draco walked quickly, covering a great distance in just a few steps, until the stone gate was within reach.

Sudden--

"stop."

"Turn around," Pansy said.