There was a reason that Theo hated to go out in public and, okay, spontaneous and unpredicted change in gender had never been part of that reason before, but it was now. He'd been asleep at his own place for once, the Witch Weekly article triggering a response to be at his own home more often, or at least out of Draco's; it wouldn't have happened normally, but he'd stopped for a drink in honour of the retirement of one of the wandmaster's he'd been working under and had decided not to be seen going back to his best friend's house. He hadn't been able to drop off to sleep once he was there, even with a double shot of Fire Whiskey under his belt, but had eventually managed to exhaust himself into uneasy slumber in the wee hours of the morning. He'd dreamed badly - of course he did, a night without dreams was usually one where he wasn't asleep - and woke up when he threw himself bodily off the sofa he'd been sleeping in, thrashing in his sleep.
He felt off-balance and unusual when he landed, his weight distributed wrongly somehow and by the time he'd reached down and noticed a lack of something and the addition of others he was already halfway to a panic attack. Still half-asleep and lodged in the nightmarish world that he visited frequently, Theo was certain that his dad had done something to him and he'd bolted through the Floo to Draco's house with only the presence of mind that any prey creature would have going to ground, falling out of the fireplace on the other end in hysterics.
He recognised that the strange girl coming at him was actually Draco faster than he realised he was in no danger, a feat even had he not been going on only three hours of sleep. Of course then he was a shuddering apologetic mess instead of a terrified hysterical one, but a mess nonetheless. He'd calmed a little and had dressed (clothes in his room in Draco's place and Merlin, of course there were rumours, and screw him for starting trouble for Draco) and had voluntarily taken a vial of some kind of Calming Draught that the Janus Thickey Ward Healer had given him for incidents like these.
His tiny frame, shrunk a further two inches to 5'1" in this female form, was swamped more than usual in his regular clothes, soft sweatpants in black and an oversized woollen cable knit hooded sweater in gray on top, socks that were too big for him in his boy form on his feet. His hands curled into the sweater sleeves and he still shivered from time to time, but the same blue-grey eyes that he'd carried over were fogged with the effects of the potion he'd taken. His hair, lightened a shade to a more ashy blond and spilled longer to just under his shoulders, was a tousled mess, tendrils curled about his fingers fitfully. His body was still small-boned and thin but the curves that he didn't have as a boy made him look less unhealthy than he usually did, his 'assets' modest but not non-existant and his hips actually curved softly instead of sticking out sharply.
Draco had let him lie his head down in the other's lap, the feel and form of it also strange but somehow familiar under his head, and he was calmed by the feeling of fingers that he trusted smoothing back his annoying locks. His knees were drawn up under the jumper as much as they could be and he blinked lethargically, exhausted from the potion, the lack of sleep and all the excitement that morning. He was already plotting ways to make it up to his friend, sickened that he'd had to bother him again.
He hmm'd a little noise to show that he was listening and nosed further into the safety of his best friend's lap.