(Cat)astrophe!

A Harry Potter Fanfiction

Author's Notes: What you are reading is my third HP fanfic, one that I have promised to post as soon as I could. But due to an unfortunate road accident that has confined me to this drab hospital bed for nigh two weeks now, uploading the story has become a difficulty. Only with the assistance of my sister's laptop and Luti's constant visits could I make this story available for public viewing. And now, to the warnings…

This story contains a yaoi pairing; more specifically, Harry and Draco's. Also, this story (but not limited to this chapter) contains lemon scenes and mature themes, which is why it is rated M. If you are uncomfortable reading either or both, please hit the back button. If not, you may continue. All Harry Potter names, places, and related indicia are copyright to the author, JK Rowling. Also, this story has been inspired by a Naruto doujinshi called "Yukimachiya"; to all SasuxNaru fans, I suggest you read it.

Last but not the least, a plea: please review afterwards. Your critiques, reviews, and comments help me to make this story worth posting.

Chapter 1 – Returning to Hogwarts

Harry Potter walked down the familiar corridor that led to the entrance of the headmaster's office, silently amazed to find that nothing had changed. He half-expected that Hogwarts would be somewhat oppressive and hostile, with the remnants of a battle fought not too long ago still evident in its halls and corridors. He thought there would still be a few gaping holes in the walls where the giants on Voldemort's side had thrown boulders, or streaks of soot and gouges on the stone where powerful spells must have hit. But then, Hogwarts was a castle of magic, and Harry would not be too surprised if it had decided to repair itself right after.

Still, he was more relieved than shocked at finding the castle in good order. The school felt more a home to him than Privet Drive ever did—and ever will be, he knew—with the Burrow running a close second, and 13 Grimmauld Place in third, having lived there in hiding, and where he was now currently residing along with the house elf Kreacher.

The air felt pleasantly cool against his skin, and he could hear the dull thudding noises his trainers made against the flagstone floor. Up here, in the fifth floor corridor, there was the hushed quiet that told of the absence of students who were still out enjoying the last week of summer vacation.

"A bit too quiet, isn't it?"

Ron's voice broke the silence abruptly, and Harry gave him a sideways glance. Ron was walking with Hermione and holding her hand, keeping tight by her side. Although all three of them had come together Harry couldn't help thinking he was somewhat the odd man out, and with the recent troubles between him and Ginny the gap was somewhat wider. So even if he was on Ron's other side, just a pace apart, Harry felt they were walking on opposite ends of the corridor.

Thinking about Ginny brought a tinge of sadness to Harry, and he sighed internally. It had not been his fault; or rather, it was not of his conscious choosing. Right after the battle with the Dark Lord there had been so much to do: rounding up the remaining Death Eaters, sentencing them and testifying against them, routing the giants and the Dementors… Harry busied himself with helping the Order of the Phoenix set things to right again, and when everything had returned to a more or less normal state, he found that he had changed. He had seen too much, felt too much, to pretend to be satisfied with his life and sharing it with Ginny. He had sensed it the moment he went back to the Burrow with Ginny beaming at him and hugging him tight, murmuring in his ear just how must she had missed him.

He loved her. There was no denying that. But did he love her in that sense anymore? He had looked long into her eyes, really seeing her for the first time, until Ginny frowned worriedly and asked him what was wrong. Harry knew then, that he could not be with her. He had suffered a pain more immense than himself, greater than the world. He had lost his family, his friends, and he even died, once, before returning to life. There was just so much inside him he wanted to tell her, to share with her, and hoped she would understand. But something told Harry she never would, because although she had lost her brother to the war with Voldemort, she had not lost everything, like him. She would not be able to share his pain.

That was when he had started to drift away from her, silently enduring the grief. Ginny allowed him space in the beginning, but soon afterwards she sensed that he could not let her into his life anymore. They began to talk less, and fight more. Until they did nothing more than fight.

An oppressive silence filled the air between them, but Hermione's hushed tones jolted Harry back to the present. She was whispering in Ron's ear, tugging on his arm, her face set in a determined frown. She had been trying to make Harry and Ron talk to each other after Harry and Ginny's break-up, and Harry doubted she would stop now. Harry did not mind, so long as he wasn't asked to apologize for something he did not do.

Ron muttered something back, his expression incredulous at first, then frowning, then resigned. Harry walked on in silence with them, pretending not to see.

"Harry, wait a second."

For a moment Harry had half a mind to ignore Ron and continue on, but he stopped and turned toward him, his expression neutral. He had had a lot of hard lessons on masking his expressions especially during the Death Eaters' trials, and Harry had become quite good at it. "Yeah?"

Ron shifted his feet and avoided Harry's eyes, but with a nudge and a look from Hermione he continued. "Look, mate—Harry—about Ginny…"

"Drop it," Harry replied curtly, shaking his head. "You don't need to explain. And no apologies, either. It's only natural you'd get mad."

"No, I acted like a git," Ron said quickly. His ears and cheeks were red, and he was looking at everywhere except at Harry. "I thought—I mean, I knew you really wouldn't do anything to hurt her," he said, his manner awkward. "It's just that…when I saw her crying…" Ron's voice faded, and he shrugged his shoulders. He gave Harry a tentative glance.

Hermione put a comforting hand on Ron's shoulder and gave Harry a silent, reproachful look. Harry only gave her a soft smile. Ever since they started dating, Hermione had become Ron's most vicious supporter, always there for him when he needed her, but in this instance Harry knew Hermione was right. Their argument had gone long enough, and this was the most Harry could get out of Ron for an apology for punching his guts. Ah well, he had broken up with his sister, after all.

"It's alright, Ron. You don't need to apologize," Harry said. "You had every right to be angry." He paused, and looked straight at Ron. "But you have to believe me; I didn't ask for this to happen. I'd never do anything to hurt Ginny, I swear."

Ron looked up for a moment with a sad expression before lowering his gaze. "I know, mate." He took a deep breath before looking up again. "I guess things just didn't work out for the both of you, huh?" Hermione elbowed him in the ribs, and Ron looked at her as if to say 'what did I do now?'

Harry shook his head again. "I…I changed, that's all. Nothing for you to worry about, though," he added with a grin that he did not really feel. But Ron smiled in reply, satisfied, although Hermione frowned slightly at Harry, her face silently questioning. Always perceptive, Hermione was, but Harry did not think he could tell her just yet. He just gave her a meaningful look that Ron did not notice, and they walked on, their steps lighter now, even Harry's.

They turned a corner and saw the stone gargoyles guarding the entrance to the headmaster's office, which now belonged to Professor McGonagall. Harry supposed he should call it the Headmistress's Office, now. For a moment Harry thought of Professor Dumbledore, missing him, but remembered their conversation in the place that had looked like Kings Cross station, and the sadness of losing the headmaster melted away.

As they came nearer the gargoyles sprang into life, beating their stone wings and turning their ugly heads in their direction. One of the gargoyles perked up when he saw Harry and said, "Oi! You there! You're Harry Potter, aren't you? Saw you during the fighting, I did—you did well against He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, if I do say so myself."

"Er, thanks," Harry replied, not knowing what else to say.

"We came here to see Professor McGonagall," Hermione added. "We sent her a letter to tell we were coming."

The other gargoyle nodded and turned its stone eyes at her. "The headmistress told us you would come. But we weren't to let you in until all of you are here."

Ron looked at the gargoyle in confusion. "All of us? But we're all here."

"He meant me, Weasley."

Harry turned, and there was Draco Malfoy standing ten paces away, looking just the same as he ever did, with his challenging gray eyes and platinum blond hair and pale skin. Harry felt a hot surge of anger bellowing thunder in his ears, but he quickly controlled it and stood rigidly where he was, giving Malfoy his coldest glare. Ron, on the other hand, did not have Harry's self-control, and he lunged for Malfoy, his blue eyes fierce and his lips snarling, only to be stopped by Hermione holding back his arms.

"No, Ron! Stop!" Hermione was hissing urgently at him, grunting with the effort of holding him back. "Stop behaving like an idiot andcontrol yourself, for Merlin's sake!"

Harry helped to keep Ron back by holding onto his other arm and stared angrily at Malfoy. "What are you doing here?" he demanded. Ron had stopped struggling against them and was breathing heavily, glaring at Malfoy, too. Hermione was too busy watching Ron to care about Malfoy.

Malfoy shrugged, pointedly ignoring Ron. He looked at Harry instead, his gray eyes showing nothing. "I came here to see the headmistress, like you. And it seems we came for the same reasons." He spread his hands in a sort of gesture. "I didn't come here to fight, as much as it sounds impossible, Potter. The Dark Lord's dead, and I am no longer a Death Eater. I think it would be better if we all remember that."

Ron gave a loud snort of derisive laughter. "You?Not a Death Eater? I'll believe that when I see it, Malfoy. As for yourDark Lord…" he sneered this time, "he isn't a lord anymore, let alone alive. If you're not a Death Eater, why do you keep calling him Dark Lord then, eh?"

Malfoy shrugged again, looking indifferent. "Old habits die hard, isn't that what Muggles say?" He gave them a condescending smile. "Very well. I swear on my honor as a Malfoy I am not here as an enemy, but as a student of Hogwarts, no more no less."

Ron laughed aloud, giving Malfoy a scornful look. "And just how valuable is a Malfoy's word these days? About as much as a sack of dung, d'you reckon?"

Harry saw Malfoy's face stiffen, his gray eyes flashing, but he said nothing, only raised his chin slightly in defiance, his pale cheeks tinting pink. But Harry knew Ron had touched on a nerve. After the defeat of Voldemort, Malfoy and his family would have been sentenced to a lifetime in Azkaban had it not been for Arthur Weasley's insistence—and Harry's, too—that if it had not been for Narcissa's lie, Harry would not have been able to survive. Malfoy's mother also volunteered to testify against the other Death Eaters. Harry knew that Draco testified, too, but Lucius had not; instead the head of the powerful Malfoy family chose to lock himself up in his manor, and he had not been seen since.

The downfall of the Malfoys did not stop there; Harry had heard news of them from Arthur Weasley. Most of their properties and treasuries in Gringott's had been claimed by the Ministry as payment for innumerable counts of bribery and blackmail, as well as possession of a number of Dark artifacts that made Harry's eyes bulge. There were rumors that the Malfoys were dirt poor now, but Harry had suspicions they weren't that destitute yet. But the damage had been done; the Malfoys have lost their position and power, and were treated like petty criminals. Harry knew they got exactly what they deserved, but he could not help feel sorry for Draco as he stood there hearing the truth slapped in his face by the person he had been looking down on not too long ago.

As if hearing Harry's thoughts Draco looked at him, his eyes daring him to feel pity. He walked away from them without another word. Harry was impressed with the way Malfoy could hold himself together like that; he did not think he could do half as good if he was in Malfoy's position.

Meanwhile, Hermione was frowning at Ron. "You didn't have to say that, Ron. Can't you see he's trying to change for the better? I heard he even had doctors from St. Mungo's remove that awful Dark Mark on his arm!"

"So what?" Ron retorted. "He's still a Death Eater to me. And he deserved everything that's happened to him," he added savagely, his face set on a wicked grin. "After all the insults he's thrown at my family, and trying to kill us—"

"Oh Ron," Hermione said despairingly, "can't you forgive him all of that? You saw what happened at their manor when we got caught, didn't you? He was being forced to be a Death Eater!"

"And he chose to be!" Ron answered back angrily. "And why are you defending him anyway?!"

"I'm not defending him!"

"That's enough," Harry cut in, seeing Hermione's face already flushed, her eyes watery, and Ron getting angrier by the minute. "It isn't the time for this. We're here to see Professor McGonagall, remember?"

They turned to find that Malfoy had already gone up ahead of them; the gargoyles had already stepped aside, and were waiting for the three of them to step up, too. Harry led the way, and was first to reach the landing to the circular room where they where to meet Hogwarts' new headmistress.

o0o0o0o

Professor Minerva McGonagall, once Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, found herself plagued with more letters and duties that morning that she ever did when she was just Head of Gryffindor House. After asking that a tray of strong tea and a plate of biscuits be brought up to her office that morning right after she had put on dark green robes, she almost wished that she could have her old job back.

But sitting here, on the old chair that Albus had once sat in, her hands resting on the surface of the large table of the Headmistress's Office, she knew she could not quit. Dumbledore had already told her this would happen; she did not believe him of course, because what harm could befall a wizard as powerful as Albus? But he was dead now, and the responsibility of running the school was hers.

She turned around and looked up at the portraits of old headmasters and headmistresses of the school, all of them leaning against their frames and sleeping. Except one. She stood up and walked near it, and the bright, twinkling eyes and half-moon spectacles of Albus Dumbledore followed her with a smile.

"I trust you had no trouble sleeping last night, headmistress?" Albus Dumbledore's portrait asked with a smile.

McGonagall gave a soft snort. "If you call resting my eyes for three hours 'sleep', then yes, I probably did," she replied. "I had to run a late meeting with the Ministry last night, did you know? They still don't know who to pick as Minister; Rufus's death was too sudden."

"Ah," Albus commented, one hand stroking his long white beard. "Perhaps they should pick Shacklebolt; the man is quite capable, I believe."

"That's what I told them, but Kingsley Shacklebolt refused the position and told them he would stay with the Order and stick with his job as an Auror," McGonagall said, shaking her head. "The Ministry is currently being supervised by the Order; as it is, they don't know how to make heads or tails of anything, what with all the giants and Dementors still running loose all over Britain. Muggles have to be Obliviated almost on a daily basis because of the giants. Thank goodness they've almost all run back to the mountains, and the few still in the lowlands are sticking to the forest. Hagrid and his brother Grawp are doing most of the work there."

Albus nodded his head in approval. "And what of the Dementors?"

"The Aurors are doing everything they can to round them all up. They've called in help from foreign Ministries, and they said they would give assistance. Only a few packs remain, though none in Muggle cities."

"That's good news."

"Yes, one of the very few I've received the past few weeks," McGonagall said. She sighed, finding herself very tired so early in the day. "And I still have to fix the problem here at school, Albus. Almost half the Slytherin House won't come back, and the fright of the battle months ago has dropped the number of incoming first years." She looked up in a troubled frown. "I'm afraid that if a student gets Sorted into Slytherin this year, his parents would want him to pack up and leave."

"Nonsense, Minerva," came Albus's reply with a soft, reassuring smile. "Now that Tom is dead, people will find that enrolling their children in the school is quite safe. What's more, hasn't Harry written a letter to you, asking that he be allowed to finish his seventh year here?"

McGonagall nodded. "Yes. Even Ronald Weasley, Hermione Granger…and Draco Malfoy, much to my surprise," she added. "I didn't think Narcissa and Lucius would allow their son back to the school."

"Not Lucius, I think, no," agreed Dumbledore. "But if the news I've been hearing from you is true, then I believe Lucius doesn't control his wife and son anymore."

"True," McGonagall admitted. "But Albus…what if the boy…?

Dumbledore shook his head lightly. "There is no need to worry for him, Minerva. Think of this as a lesson for Draco, one that he must learn on his own, for a change." His face crinkled into a smile. "Have you arranged everything?"

"Yes, I did. But Albus, how on earth will this help them?"

Dumbledore only smiled in reply, and before McGonagall could ask him for a better answer, there was a knock on the door. She sighed and shook her head. This wasn't the first time Albus had planned something without telling anybody else; she would just have to trust his judgment and wait. Sitting down on the chair and taking a sheaf of papers stacked neatly nearby, she cleared her throat. "Come in."

The door opened, and Draco Malfoy stepped inside, his face blank as stone and his posture rigid. No surprises there; she had ordered the gargoyles not to let them up until all four of the students had arrived, and meeting Harry Potter and his friends must have been the reason for Malfoy's controlled anger.

Before the door was fully closed Potter and his friends stepped in. McGonagall noted the way they cast careful, guarded looks towards Malfoy, and the way they stood quite apart from him as they approached her table. McGonagall frowned and tsked impatiently. Even after all that had happened, they were still children, and they thought and acted like children, too.

"Sit down, all of you," she said curtly, with a nod at four high-backed wooden chairs placed in front of her table. She adjusted her square glasses and looked at each of them sternly. "Well, I'll get straight to the point. You are all, of course, welcome to finish your studies here at Hogwarts." Hermione Granger lit up considerably, grinning at the news. "But you won't be staying in your Houses."

That blow drove out the smile from the girl's face. Minerva watched as each brow lowered in confusion. She placed down the parchment she was holding and explained. "You are all welcomed back, but not as regular students. Technically, this would be your eighth year in Hogwarts, and you only stay in your Houses for seven years. That means you do not belong to any House at all."

"But we'll be staying at our old rooms, right?" Weasley blurted out. Minerva raised an eyebrow at him until he added a quick 'Professor' at the end.

"No, Weasley, you will not. All four of you will be staying in guest rooms in one of the towers," she answered. Her breakfast tray appeared magically on her table, and Minerva poured herself a cup of tea. "Also, a transfer student will be staying in the tower dormitory with you, a young woman named Loraine Ingleton. All of you will have the same schedules. Since you are the only five special students, I found it better if you went to the same classes. Also, Granger, Malfoy, and Weasley are relieved of their Prefect duties. Potter, you're also relieved of your Captainship on the Gryffindor Quidditch team, you understand don't you?"

Harry Potter nodded. "Of course, Professor. But are we still allowed to play?"

"I'm afraid not, Potter. It would be unfair for the other Houses if Gryffindor and Slytherin retained their senior players. You came here to finish your studies, and that is what you are going to do. Any questions?"

Minerva could see that Weasley was clearly in protest of staying in the same tower as Malfoy, Potter was disappointed that he could not play for his old House team, and Malfoy still silently angry. Only Granger seemed content with the conditions set on them. Minerva sighed inwardly. She was beginning to feel that her first year as headmistress would be more challenging than she had first thought.

End of Chapter 1.

Next: Chapter 2 – A Fragile Second Beginning

Dedications: Thanks to my sister (who refuses to be named) and my friend Luti for bringing me fresh flowers on a daily basis, even while I was out of consciousness. Thanks, guys. This story is also dedicated to the people who loved my previous stories.

Others: The doctor said I might be able to get out in another week (yay!). Oh yeah, and I posted the next chapter along with this. :) I hope you guys enjoy. I am also in the process of writing a Naruto fanfic, called Wrapped in More Than Kindness. Of course it's slash. And of course it's Naruto and Sasuke. evil laugh Also, I'm planning on continuing a HP fanfic I've previously posted in another site, but had not managed to complete. It's an AU fic, called Sword of Fire, Crown of Truth, with a Harry/Ginny pairing. VERY AU, indeed. But the thing is, would you like to read it? If you do, just tell me and I'll willingly post and continue it here at fanfiction(dot)net.