Disclaimer: Yep, we all want to own Harry Potter (or at least have a day or two with Draco…) but unfortunately I own nothing. It is all the work of JK Rowling.
This is just a quick one shot I decided to write to help me learn some new vocab, so I apologise in advance if some of the words don't really fit (especially 'arcane'). I found this a far more amusing way to learn them instead of cover, read, cover, write.
Please read and review, I'd love tips on how to improve my writing!
Draco's manner, like many other Malfoys', was circumspect and had been since he learnt how to read people. He knew where his mother hid his Christmas presents (In the third room to the left of the library), he noticed several seconds in advance when Snape was going to terrorise Potter with N.E.W.T level questions (he always stretched languidly before getting an evil glint in his eye) and he'd known for years that Blaise harboured a secret crush on Granger). Which is why the fact he didn't notice Pansy plotting against him, nor her casting a quick charm in his direction, was a complete aberration.
In fact, he first realised that something was wrong several hours after the spell was cast, when he checked himself in the mirror. His hair was perfect, as always, and his pose was deliciously arrogant. But as he caught sight of his eyes he realised that they looked yellow-almost chatoyant. Panic coursed through his veins; his silver orbs had been so attractive. And now to be replaced, by this disgusting Hufflepuff colour? Outrageous. However, growing up as the son of Lucius did have some advantages, and he had learnt to place himself above such matters. Madam Malkin had said yellow was 'in' anyway.
The second clue that something was wrong was that when he walked to potions, although his manner had never been cumbersome, he was far more elegant that he had been the previous day. Theo had even commented on it, but he put this down to his elegance being magnified as he stood between Crabbe and Millicent. It was a wonder why Bullstrode's parents didn't send her to finishing school; the chances of her finding a pure-blood willing to marry her were very slim at the moment.
The third clue was when his muscles started twitching spasmodically that night in bed. When this happened, Draco started to worry. Although he'd never held the desire to be a healer, he knew that this was abnormal.
He could feel the tingling of magic around him, the same type he felt every time he stepped into the transfiguration classroom. Of course, he had studied his families genealogy countless times, and knew that he wasn't predisposed to turn into a magical creature. There hadn't been a veela in his family for centuries! Unwilling to leave his warm bed, he decided not to go and visit Snape, and he fell into a reluctant and fitful sleep.
"Where's Draco?" Blaise's voice awoke him.
Draco heard Goyle shrug as he opened his mouth to tell Blaise to stop being a twat , but all that came out was a soft mewing sound. Draco looked down at his feet and cursed inwardly as he realised that they weren't feet at all. They were paws. He had been turned into a cat- more precisely, a white kitten, and he had a pretty good idea who was behind it. He knew that he shouldn't have turned down Pansy's offer to the ball. She'd asked him, even though she knew he was gay, and had refused to take no as an answer. So, or course, when Draco had told her 'no' she had entered a rage that Bellatrix would have been proud of.
Without waiting for the inevitable beleaguering of his dorm-mates, Draco the kitten leapt from his bed and sprinted towards the door.
He dived under a coffee table, sprinted through the common room, skidded down the dungeon corridors, and fell out onto the grass besides the lake. As if his morning couldn't get any worse, his disorientated state (it was rather strange being only six inches tall) led him right into the feet of Potter, who yelped in surprise before picking him up gently. Just his luck that the one person he really abhorred had the ill sense to be outside at seven in the morning. Draco yanked his leg, trying to extricate himself from the long arms of Potter, but to no avail. He was carried back into the castle by the boy, head banging uncomfortably against the musky smelling chest. He wished that whatever the curse was that Pansy had placed on him wasn't perennial.
Somehow, despite his constant struggling, Draco found himself on the lap of his nemesis in the Gryffindor common room. Too much red and gold for his liking, but that being said, Draco wouldn't pass on the opportunity to commandeer the room. He could see it now, the Gryffindorks all bowing down to him, the ice-prince of Slytherin. And that annoying kid in the year below, Colin Creevey, would take his photo instead of Potty's. Yes, that would be perfect. His thoughts were so rudely interrupted by the bushy haired one.
"I never had you down as an ailurophile," Hermione noted, nodding to Draco as Harry caressed the soft fur. Draco had given up struggling for now and an appreciative mew escaped his mouth as he was scratched around the ears. He didn't like Potter, of course he didn't like Potter, but it was a nice feeling all the same.
"You're not going to tell me off, say it could be a death eater in disguise?"
Draco personally thought this was a good point. Many death eaters, Avary for example, were still waiting to get their hands on him. Hermione obviously disagreed.
"No, I'm not going to admonish you for finding a kitten - the war's over Harry. Although I do think it would be prudent if you kept it from Hagrid, you never know what he'll do to the poor thing."
Harry was quiet, and smiled down at the small bundle with was Draco. Draco, who was already terrified at the thought of the oaf getting hold of him, just found the smile creepy. He did. He definitely didn't find it cute or endearing in any way. To distract him from the adorab-creepy smile, he looked around the room again. To his horror, an assemblage of second year Gryffindors, all half-bloods by the smell of it, came down the stairs and crowded around him, making cooing noises. One simply does not coo at a Malfoy. Being unable to speak, he did the next best thing and growled at them. Of course, the catch-22 was that he was so tiny that it came out as more of a squeak which just encouraged the brats and the girl-weasel, who had joined Harry on the sofa, to coo some more. Honestly, to think that she was a pure-blood? No wonder the Weasley's had to resort to marrying mud-bloods, with fashion sense like that. No other self respecting pure-blood would go near that.
Before he knew what was happening, he was pulled from relative safety of Harry by cold hands and turned upside down. His capturer, who he now recognised as Hermione, placed her hand in a rather private place. That was definitely something to efface from the memory.
"It's a girl, I'm sure of it," She told Harry, finally relinquishing her hold on him, and Draco felt himself once again encompassed by strong arms. He was feeling rather dizzy from being held upside down, the Granger had no consideration! He wasn't really feeling himself, but he could have sweat she had said he was a girl. A girl! How had he inexplicable been changed into a female cat?
"A girl? It looks like a boy to me," Harry said. Finally, someone with a bit of sense.
"No Harry," Hermione shook her head and leant in to whisper conspiratorially "Looks like you won't be able to name it Draco then."
Harry coloured, out of anger or embarrassment, Draco wasn't sure. He was just very confused. Why would Potter want to name a cat after him? Or maybe Granger knew that the cat really was him, and was mocking him! He tried to hiss, but coughed up a hairball instead. It really wasn't his day.
Hermione's tempus charm told them that it was time for breakfast. Draco was allowed to stay in Harry's dorm for the entire day, which he spent poking his nose around the entirety of Harry's belongings. So Harry has an invisibility cloak he thought that certainly explains a lot. He was having such a good time scratching away at the Gryffindor pillow cases and feeling a small triumph in his chest every time he ruptured one of the red sacks, that he didn't notice at first when Harry came in the room followed by his two side-kicks.
"We get it mate, you think Malfoy's up to something." Draco's ears pricked up at the sound of the Weasel's voice and the mention of his name. But really, what was their obsession with him? Not that he minded of course, Pansy had supplied him with so much obsession over the years that he had begun built up an immunity to it. He peeked from behind the thick curtains and saw Harry shrug.
"I didn't say that, just wonder where he is, s'all,"
"Like you wonder where he is every second of every day? Oh, for goodness sake Harry-we're not concerned in your illicit love affair with him!"
Harry blushed and Draco choked at Granger's words, but not on a hairball.
"You think Malfoys is my-my.."
"Paramour," She finished, smirking in a way that any Slytherin would be proud of. To Draco's shock, Harry just abased his head.
"It's true?" the ginger exclaimed in disgust, "But he's Malfoy!"
"It's not like that! He doesn't like me back."
Harry all but mumbled the last sentence.
"You can't be gay Harry!" Freckle face spat in contempt, receiving a sharp slap across his cheek from Hermione. The places where Draco's eyebrows would have been if he were human, furrowed. After all, his own homosexuality wasn't exactly arcane.
"Why can't he be? Your views on such matters are…positively archaic Ronald. You should be ashamed of yourself!"
Draco sat in shock. Scar-head liked the ferret? Of course, Potter was wrong on one account. Draco did like him, very much so, and had done since third year when he first realised he was gay. Happiness shot through him like a jinx, and he felt a loosening in his muscles. To his horror, the white fur which had covered his whole body as a blanket, started to grow back into his body and his limbs began to lengthen.
Thud.
The three friends turned to find a rather dishevelled Draco Malfoy on the floor. All members of the room turned various shades of red. Ron's whole body a rather unattractive shade of beetroot and still sported a smarting cheek, a dark flush stained Hermione's cheeks, a deep rose colour covered half of Harry's face, and the tops of Draco's ears turned a delicate shade of pink.
Unlike the others Ron was angry, not embarrassed, and so he proceeded to shout abuse at the trespasser, who quickly picked himself up off the floor and regained the Mafoy-esque composure which suited him so well.
"You're foul! Evil! Vile! Wicked!" With each adjective, Ron's voice grew in volume until he was yelling.
"If you're quite done with the blatant pleonasm Weasley," Draco's calm voice interrupted him as he walked over to the brunette who looked like a Christmas tree, all red with twinkling green eyes.
"I think I'd like to begin the illicit affair now."
19 days later.
"You so owe me one Dray,"
It was a lazy afternoon and Pansy and Draco had their backs pressed up against a large oak tree on their favourite grassy mound next to the lake. Harry had his head in his boyfriends lap.
"I owe you nothing Pansy, you brigand."
"So you gambolling into the common room three weeks ago had absolutely nothing to do with me?"
"No."
"No?"
"No, it had everything to do with Potter."
Said Potter smiled evilly at Pansy, who squatted him across the forehead with the roll parchment she held in her hand. To the surprise of everyone, especially Draco, the two had adopted a teasing friendship.
"And me." she insisted, resisting the temptation to roll the Gryffindor down the hill and into the lake as he stuck out his tongue at her. Let the giant squid have him.
"And I'm supposed to believe that you turned me into a cat with my best interests at heart?" a blonde eyebrow was raised.
"Girl cat," Harry interjected, receiving another squat across the head, this time by Draco's hand.
"Of course not, I did it because I was bored. But the outcome wasn't too unfortunate, was it?"
The answering grins were answer enough and the trio fell into silence. Draco threaded his fingers through the coarse mane covering his robes. And when the green eyes met grey and he saw the unbridled happiness there, he knew that the outcome hadn't been too unfortunate at all.
