A/N: Konnichiwa! This is my first fic at ff.net, so be...forget nice. Give me reviews! I'll take the good, the bad, the flames, whatever you want. Any questions? E-mail me at squishduckEW@quackquack.com.

Just note, the idea of zodiac transformations whenever the individual (Draco!) is hugged comes from the Japanese anime, Fruits Basket. Go watch it! This is where a disclaimer comes in: I do not own Fruits Basket or Harry Potter in any way, shape, or form.

Thanks! Read and enjoy! Review!

Curses!

The day of Draco's 16th birthday was a day he'd rather forget.

No, sitting down to breakfast was the ordinary part. Don't get ahead of yourself. He got the usual calls (or troglodytic grunts, in Crabbe and Goyle's case) of 'Happy Birthday' from his fellow Slytherins and assorted death threats from the Gryffindors, nothing new to that. In fact, a birthday for Draco were a lot like any other day.

Except, of course, with somewhat better presents.

So, unsuspecting, he started in on his breakfast and carried on a conversation that was largely with himself. It wasn't surprising, considering his henchmen; Crabbe and Goyle's idea of conversation involved scattered syllables and a few short sentences, if you were lucky.

Draco figured talking to himself and taking the chance of appearing mad was the lesser of two evils.

Again, nothing new- not that there was anything wrong with that. Draco was used to this routine- he knew what time he needed to wake in the morning, he knew what he would eat for breakfast on any given day. He shaved every Tuesday and the mail came between eight o'clock and eight thirty, when he was starting in on his tea at breakfast.

It was now eight fifteen. Draco glanced up disinterestedly and watched the owls flock in.

He would have cried if he had known how close he was then to being saved.

His eagle owl swooped into the Great Hall.

Pansy swooped through the door with a gift box in hand, eyes wild.

His owl descended.

Draco felt doom descend as Pansy rushed towards him. There was ruthless determination in her eyes.

It was neck in neck- the owl and Pansy were nearly tied- the owl extended its legs to perch on his shoulder when-

Pansy swatted it off, causing it to knock over his pumpkin juice with a panicked hoot.

Damn, thought Draco, sighing. Third one this term.

"Draco!" Pansy yipped. Draco had a theory that she was becoming more pug-like by the day. Someone had yet to prove his theory wrong. "Happy Birthday Draco!- look, I got you this present-" She threw the gift-wrapped box on the table where its purple ribbons flounced for a moment before settling, and then seized him around the neck in a hug/choke hold.

Or, well, she did for a shortest split second imaginable. There was a loud poof- the owl, which had seemed previously disgruntled, now seemed very, very interested. Pansy screamed- it reminded Draco very much like a bark, but never mind that.

He had ears- well, he always had ears, yes, but now they were rather furry. Good God, furry?! Furry anything does not work for a Malfoy! Scales, yes, but fur just isn't classy- what would Mother say?!

Hold on a minute, Draco, he thought fervently to himself, closing his eyes. Don't panic. Take inventory.

All right. Furry, small- long ears, small tail. Whiskers. He trembled slightly. No decent Malfoy had anything to do with whiskers. This was getting to be too much.

But he had to be strong.

"Pansy," he said, remaining forcibly calm. "Tell me they didn't put any of those horrible Weasley products into my food again."

No reply- he was forced to open his eyes. Frightened, Pansy had run into the welcoming arms of Blaise Zabini. Traitor, he thought. See if I keep your present.

"I'll take that for a no." Not that anyone replied to that, either. Crabbe and Goyle stared dumbly- or more dumbly than they usually stared, if that was possible. "Am I talking to myself here...or...erm...never mind." He coughed.

Silence from the Slytherins. "Are you SODS so DIM that you HAVEN'T GOTTEN THE HANG OF USING YOUR BLOODY MOUTHS?! HAVE YOU TURNED INTO GRYFFINDORS?"

Draco shuddered. The horror. He wouldn't wish that upon anyone.

He wanted the facts. He wanted an explanation. He wanted Potter dead and to own his own Quidditch team, but that was beside the point.

As the trio passed by, Draco glowered. Ronald- Bloody-Weasley took one look at him and turned bright red with laughter as he passed.

"Maybe if you're lucky your face will stay that way, Weasley," Draco snapped irritably. "At least then it'll hide that spattergroit of yours."

But Weasley also wasn't listening. "Malfoy's...haha!..." he howled. "Ahahah, I can't breath! Malfoy's a rabbit!"

Draco Malfoy did not like birthdays. At all.