And this night began with me wanting to become an animal…
A bitter thought though it was, to many, this scene would be hilarious, that is, the scene involving one Draco Malfoy who was… not himself. Pouring through books into late hours of the night, he had researched for months on how to transform and now that he had done it, he wanted nothing more than to return to his normal self immediately.
Now how do I change back…?
Draco looked over his book and scanned the last few sentences:
"Complications may arise. A full twenty four hours may pass before it is
considered dangerous that the potions effect has not worn off"
Bloody hell.
Draco tried to stomp while he paced but his velvet pads made no sound on the hard floors of the Hogwartz corridors. He reckoned that if his luck was anything to go by, he'd be stuck in this form for exactly twenty-four hours and would change back not a moment too soon, so he might as well wait it out. The night had begun by completing his potion he had worked on long and hard to finally finish. Draco had the intention to sneak around the castle and see what sort of dirt he could pick up on certain people in his animal form so he could use it as blackmail once he had changed back to normal. Draco hadn't known what his animal form was going to be of course, the book had only said that sometimes these changes were not what the consumer of the potion always wanted.
Draco had definitely not wanted this.
His stomach rumbled and he decided that he would need some food if he was going to survive this, so he set off towards the kitchens, hoping that he could still order the house elves around.
Draco Malfoy never did make it to the kitchen though, because as he rounded the corner, the smell of ham beckoning him on, he was nearly stepped on by a pair of enormous feet. He jumped and found himself soon to be surrounded, six black shoes encircling him; trapping him. He tried to look up to see their faces but found that it hurt his small neck so he instead waited to hear their voices.
"Wow. I haven't seen that cat around. D'you reckon it's one of the first years'?" The voice of that idiotic Weasley made Draco wrinkle his little pink nose in disgust.
A Malfoy does not belong to anyone. Draco tried to reply. Of course, this only came out as mewling which the other three did not understand.
"Aw, the poor thing must be lost." Was that Granger? Calling him a "poor thing"?
Malfoys are not poor!!
"I don't think it likes that, Hermione. She is gorgeous though." Potter. Perfect, Saint Potter.
Finally you've said something true. I am gorgeous… wait, 'SHE'?!
Draco mewled and howled in anger, spitting every so often to punctuate his point. Harry looked down at the beautiful white cat and scratched his head, "Did I say something?"
"I think it's got a hairball or something." Ron suggested.
"Wait…" Harry picked up the cat, noting that the lovely fur was soft as silk between his fingers. The cat glared at him. "I don't think it's a she."
Damn RIGHT. Potter… what are you…AAAHH!
Just then Harry raised up the cat that was now struggling to get away from him and eyed its package of manly cat parts. "Yep. I was wrong. It's definitely not a she."
Ron was just leaning over to look when Draco decided that he had had enough. He scratched at Harry's hands, effectively wounding the raven haired boy so he let go of him. By no surprise, Draco fell to the floor, landing softly on his feet and running down the corridor to sit in a dark and shadowed alcove. Harry looked crestfallen, "Normally cats like me. Look at Crookshanks."
Hermione nodded at this. She knew that her cat had never had a problem with Harry and often chose to sit on his lap by the fire or play about his legs while he sat and wrote his essays. Ron shrugged, "Maybe it's a Slytherins' cat. They're predisposed to hate Gryffindors like their owners." A thought occurred to him, "Ugh. Maybe it's Malfoy's." He pulled a face at this apparently disgusting proposition.
"Malfoy has an eagle owl, he can't have a cat." Harry supplied automatically.
Hermione seconded this notion, "Yes, I've seen it come into the Great Hall with lots of packages from home for him."
Ron rolled his eyes, "Of course. Bet his mum gets him things every day." Ron yawned largely, "Alright. I've had enough of that cat to last me a lifetime. I'm heading to bed. Coming, Harry?"
Harry, who hadn't taken his eyes off of the dark corner in which the cat had shrouded itself in shadow, now looked up at Ron, "Sorry, what?"
"Honestly. Are you coming to the tower or what?" Ron asked again, slightly agitated in his tired state.
Harry took one last glance at the shadowed alcove and with a sigh turned away. "Yeah, I'm coming."
Draco peeked out after the three Gryffindors, watching them warily as they strolled down the corridor. He curled his lip menacingly. Potter. That stupid Golden Boy had thought he was a girl. What a twit. With an annoyed flick of his tail, Draco took off again after the delicious smell of meat that was wafting into his nostrils from the kitchen. Draco Malfoy now had a plan. He would go to the kitchens, demand some food- or swipe it, he supposed- and find a place to wait out this damned potions effects. A good plan, certainly. Draco Malfoy hadn't, however, thought all the way through his plan. He hadn't thought out the fact that in the kitchen, he would encounter someone waiting for him.
…To be continued.