Animate!

Ferreting Around

Hmm, well this is different. It's quite pleasant actually. I've got this weird sensation down the right half of my body but it appears to be fading quickly. And what's this? A tail no doubt. I feel like an ox. Oh, good Slytherin! I look like a rat that's been fed growth tonic. A ferret. How ironic. I've been called one numerous amounts of times; people have characteristics of animals but this is humiliating.

What will my father say? He'd have expected more from me. I'll argue my case, 'at least I'm not a weasel,' I shall say. Perhaps that's not the best option, actually. It would hardly be wise to remind my father of that family just now . . . hang on a minute; aren't weasels and ferrets related?

Now that was a scary thought! I'll have to check that out later but perhaps it would be better for me not to know? Well, anyway, I'm going to have to try and work out how to reverse this. The book wasn't too good at explaining that part and my eyesight seems to be greatly reduced since I shrunk down to this size. Hey, do you think this colour looks good on me?

Back to the point at paw. I'm not altogether sure how I managed to do this, so reversing it is going to be even harder. At least I'm in a nice safe space where nobody would dare to venture today. It's a Saturday and I'm in the library. Pretty safe if you ask me.

So, I'm going to give this a go. Ooh. I can feel something happening; it's rather warm—I wonder what it is? I'll keep this to myself, thank you. Now there's this weird feeling jumping about in front of my face. Don't laugh but I believe they are called whiskers.

Someone's coming. I'd better not curse but I could have sworn nobody would come to the library; it's far too nice of a day. Oh. It's her. Well I should have figured that book worm would eventually find her way here. Now, she seems to be alone, so if I hide behind this shelf of books for unintelligent people, I should be okay.

For goodness sake—is nowhere safe? What on earth would she want from over here? She is the smartest girl in the year. And now, she would have to crouch down to pick a book from the bottom shelf, wouldn't she? Wait. These shelves don't have any backs to them. She's going to see me. Better run. Too late.

Better act cute and hope she doesn't suspect anything. What does she mean by 'ratty face?' I find that's positively insulting. Well, she seems oblivious to the fact that I am who I am. So oblivious that she's scooped me up and is stroking my nose. Remind me do take an extra long shower with very hot water when I get out of this. If I get out of this.

Now what does she think she's doing? This just isn't acceptable. I've got over the whole stroking thing but she's now carting me off somewhere and I doubt very much that it's the girls dormitories—not that I'd want to go in there or anything . . .

This really is too much. Not only are we making are ways down to the Great Hall but she's already paraded me off to three groups of giggling girls. I've never been touched by so many hands in one time during my whole life! Except that time when those Weasley twins dropped a bucket of love-a-dove on me. Wasn't that bad, if I'm completely honest.

Uh, oh. Now I have a really big problem. She's sat me down in front of a rather large bowl of chopped of vegetables in the Great Hall. She's taunting me by eating a large sausage sandwich. I've got a few options. I could just run off and risk her attempting to catch me again—and probably succeeding. I could attempt to eat the vegetables or, I could just jump up and steal her sandwich.

Gosh, that was fun! I decided to choose the later and jump up and steal that brunettes sausage sandwich. It tastes pretty good as well. It did result in me getting smacked across the backside in an attempt to train me but after all, I'm pretty much used to that anyway. However, I wasn't pleased about it and so I decided to bite her—I didn't mean to break the skin but apparently I have. She's not happy.

So now I've been left in the care of one of her friends. I'm not quite sure who yet, as I've only just come around from the stunning spell. Well, at least I can't deny that she's a good spell caster anymore or say she's nice, to be blunt. I always thought she was the caring type. You don't think she knew?

Oh what have I got myself into now? I've been scooped up by the Weaslett. I'm not sure which is worse. This can not be good for the condition of my fur; it best not loose its shine. Talking about shine and fur, why on earth are we heading for the Prefect bathroom?

What in my family's honour does she mean, 'you smell'? It's up her nose, that's what it is! I do not smell; I take a shower twice a day because you never know who you're going to meet. I can't believe this. She's actually going to shove me in the bath. Oh, this can't be good for my morality.

Chilled to the bone, that's what I am. That redhead wasn't even decent enough to give me any hot water and I'm not even going to repeat what she was doing. All that I will say is that I am never, ever, going to be able to face this bathroom again and I never want to be scrubbed.

Well, at least I'm wrapped in a towel now. My furs all matted and I'm not happy. I've got to get out of this as soon as possible but she's got such a tight grip on me, not even the crypt keeper could escape. Oh, I do hope they don't find out. What happens if I suddenly manage to transfigure myself back and end up falling on top of her? That would just be bad. Better think ferrety thoughts.

So this is the Gryffindor Common Room. As I'm being honest, I must say, it's a lot cosier than the Slytherin one; however, the company is far less desirable. They're all so nosey as well. Finally, one sensible person has said, 'what if he belongs to someone.' I like her . . . hmm, very much. Shame she's a Gryffindor.

That best not be what I think it is because if it is, I'm going to fight back. Put that around my neck and you will die. It's frilly. Scarily frilly. That's it, you die by claw. I will not stand to look like Weasley in his dress robes.

Oh. They did not take too well to that. I decided to scrape, claw, and bite and basically do anything to cause the nearest Gryffindor as much pain as I could. Unfortunately, I forgot how small I was and for some strange reason my claws were rather blunt; I guess that serves me right. The moral is not to chew your fingernails, I guess. Doesn't really explain the toes though.

So now I'm outside, tethered to a stone column beside the gamekeepers hut. Well, someone would get a rather nasty surprise if they discovered a naked me tied outside. Good job I'm still a ferret then. I hadn't thought about that. Where did my clothes go? I do hope I didn't leave them in the library. That would be embarrassing to explain.

That's weird. I'm human again. Fully dressed, thank you very much and choking on a metal chain around my throat. Just how I imagined myself ending up one of these days. Don't ask. Seriously.