It had been so long since Arthur had been able to make a potion that he was bubbling over in excitement. His work area was a bit dark and dusty, but it certainly set the mood. The basement he worked in had cobwebs on the walls with tiny spiders catching prey. His desk was large and had piles of books, opened and closed, that were scatted all over. Besides the books and the candles, he had different ingredients with neatly written labels on the bottles.

He smiled brighter than he had in months as he worked like a mad scientist, putting his work of art together.

"What is this potion missing," he pondered to himself. He stood back and thought. He only needed two ingredients now, so he looked back at his book and gave a small nod.

This potion was going to be used to transform a living being into something else that was organic. That thing could transform a plant to a slug, a dog to a spider, a frog to a prince, or perhaps…

A fluffy white Persian leaped onto his desk and gracefully weaved through the test tubes and books before it took its place before Arthur. It meowed loudly, demanding his attention.

He smiled and carefully lifted the fluffy feline. He cradled her in one arm while he pet her with his free hand.

"My, my," he cooed at the cat in his deep and masculine voice. He ran his fingers through her fur, collecting some of it. "This will do…" He then dropped the clump of fur into his concoction.

The liquid sizzled and burned the fur, making it one with the potion.

He continued petting the cat some more, then set it down on the floor next to him. He stood up straight then leaned into his potion again and started to carefully add the last ingredient.

After a few moments of slowly tipping the vile of the liquid, one drop spilled out, and that was all that Arthur would allow. The concoction started reacting and bubbling. After a moment's time, a ball of smoke puffed out in the shape of a cat's head.

It was finished!

Arthur clapped and smiled like a schoolgirl. This was so exciting! He wondered if it would work? Oh, of course it would, he scoffed at himself. All of the ingredients were obviously there.

Now, a problem arose. He hadn't any idea of what to test this on. The cat he took the hair from wouldn't be affected, obviously. He glanced around the room. Perhaps a rat was lingering about? If there was, he could snatch it up…

He dismissed the idea. I will not subsume to animal cruelty, he thought to himself. He stood, staring at the new potion he had created. It was purple and dense. His reflection stared back at him in the glass vile. Maybe he could use it on Alfred? He shook his head, smiling to himself. For as fun as it sounded, it would be cruel to do, even to Alfred. Anyhow, Alfred would never forgive him.

Perhaps he would find the Italian boy, Feliciano, and try it on him. He loved cats, and if he were one, that would lift a lot of burden from Ludwig since Feliciano would be busy doing cat things, rather than hanging on Ludwig's sleeve…

Then again, if he dared to do something to the Italian, Ludwig would surely be on his doorstep with the intention to inflict pain. Arthur shivered at that and dismissed the idea immediately.

What could I-

Before he finished his thought, the feline that was already present leaped on the table with as little grace as possible. The purple concoction wavered and wobbled on the table. Arthur gasped and frantically reached out to catch his work from being destroyed.

When he went to grab it, the cat seemed to be unnerved by his sudden movement. It hissed and sprinted away, pushing past the potion in the process. To Arthur's despair, it tipped over and fell to the floor.

The glass shattered, releasing the purple substance. Upon contact with the concrete floor, another ball of smoke blew up into Arthur's face. He shuffled back wards and leaned back against the wall. His vision started becoming blurry and disoriented. He inhaled sharply, and the room went black.

The smell of smoke seemed to disappear, yet the room continuously went round and round like a playground merry-go-round.

"Ugh," Arthur groaned. He slowly opened his eyes. Across the floor, he could see the remains of the potion. His stomach dropped. "I worked so hard on that," he whined softly. His creation was ruined and he couldn't even test it.

Defeated, he sat up slowly and leaned back on the wall. What a waste!

Suddenly, he felt something large rub against him and vibrate violently while doing so. He gasped and fell over in fright. "What in the devil-?"

His eyes grew wide to see the fluffy white cat from before, but now she was as large as he was. He concluded that his potion was a mistake, and instead of turning an organism into a feline, it would make a feline the size of a human!

Arthur got on all fours and looked over to his table. He had to fix this. What on Earth would someone think if they saw a giant cat?! Sure, Feliciano would be as happy as a clam, but anyone normal would run in terror.

Wait a tick. Why am I on all fours?

Arthur's heart seemed to stop in his chest.

Oh no…

Oh no…!

His green eyes nervously looked down at what used to be his hands.

"Oh no," he moaned out loud this time.

He wasn't sitting next to a giant cat. That cat was at a normal size. He looked behind him and saw his cloths that were left behind in his transformation.

He had gotten himself turned into a cat.

Snow was gently falling in London, and the view was very beautiful for tourists that came to sight see.

The ground had a light coating of white powder, and grass was desperately reaching towards the sky through the ice. The sky was an eerie grey, and the clouds threatened to send God's wrath upon the United Kingdom. For this reason, cars carefully crept down the streets, and pedestrians shuffled quickly through the cold. The night was no place for anyone at this time for anyone. The air felt like needles on flesh and sent shivers down one's spine.

No one should be out in this weather, Francis thought, gripping his jacket and holding close around his slender body. Then again, here he was, walking down the street. The amount of people around him had been thinning greatly. Most of the others had gotten to their destinations. He had yet to get to his hotel and hide under his blankets for the night.

The thought of warmth kept him on his path.

A rustling on the sidewalk made him stop in his tracks. He froze when he saw a medium sized stray dog waddling out of an alleyway with something hanging from its mouth. He took a step forward and the dog just looked at him wearily, then bent it's head down, dropping the dirty object.

It moved.

Francis made a disgusted face at the thought of what this creature could be. He inched closer, keeping a careful eye on the dog. It saw him move and barked, making him jump back. The dog then turned and ran down the street, leaving its prize.

The man sighed outwardly, and then stepped up to the ball of dirty fuzz. It made a groaning sound.

He knelt down and gasped. "Oh, you poor thing," he said, setting his bag of groceries aside. The creature was a cat, and when he got closer, he could see it's white and orange markings. The man tentatively wrapped his hands around the animal and cupped its rear with one hand while supporting its torso with the other. He lifted the feline and it gave a soft grunt.

His heart melted when he saw the poor animal's face. Its fur was softer than he expected and it had tired looking green eyes that glistened in the streetlight. He couldn't help himself but to bring the cat close to his face and kiss the side of its head where it didn't have much dirt on it. He held it there for a moment and felt its paw touch the side of his face. He smiled slightly and held the feline closer, as if embracing it.

"Please stop that."

Francis jumped back, dropping the cat in shock. "Wh-What?!"

The fluff ball landed lazily on his feet and looked up at the Frenchman. "Hello, Francis," Arthur said solemnly.

The man's jaw was nearly on the floor. "A-Arthur? Is… is that you?"

Well, that's what Arthur wanted to happen. When he went to speak, a soft "Meow" came out, rather than words. It was so odd to not be able to speak properly. Francis seemed to think the meow was an invitation, rather than a rejection, and he snuggled the British fur ball closer to his face.

"You are too sweet," he cooed. He wrapped his coat around Arthur and pressed him close to his chest. At first he wanted to protest, but then he felt the Frenchman's warmth.

Francis smiled and stroked his head. "You remind me of a good friend of mine," he said. Arthur rolled his eyes. What is he babbling about? "His name is Arthur."

What? Did you really just call me your good friend? Arthur found that particularly odd.

"I think I'll name you… Scones." He let out a small chuckle.

Arthur growled. Scones? You stupid frog! How rude!

"I'm sure Arthur will kill me when he meets you, and learns your name," he sighed and stood up, keeping the feline close to him.

Yes, Arthur grumbled. He just might.

The cold air swirled around them, making the two shiver and huddle closer together. The air stung Francis' bare skin and made his cheeks red. He quickly lifted his bag awkwardly with his free hand and started off to his hotel.

Night had fallen completely and the streetlights were their only guide to shelter. Few civilians passed and fewer cars lined the streets. Everyone in his or her right mind had boarded up for the night to wait out the passing storm. Some people stood outside with cigarettes in hand, desperately getting their nicotine fix while shivering against the cold.

The hotel that Francis was staying at was illuminated in the dark, welcoming all who'd had a reservation. Francis covered Arthur completely in his coat and held his bag in front of his chest to hide the bulge that the cat made. The bellhops would not be pleased to know he was sneaking an animal inside.

Inside of the room was warm and cozy with dimmed lights to set the mood of the evening. Francis dropped his bag on a table and shut the door with his foot. He went to a small mini fridge and pulled a glass bottle of milk out. He poured it into a cup and microwaved it for a few seconds, then removed it. He placed the warm milk on the table and unzipped his coat. He carefully removed it while holding 'Scones' and used his coat to make a bed on the table for the feline.

Arthur sighed in relief. The coat was getting stuffy. He watched as Francis leaned forward to him and offered the milk. I wonder if you knew it as me… would you still treat me so well? He graciously accepted the milk and awkwardly lapped it up. He felt the Frenchman's hand stroke his head gently as he did so, and heard him speak in a soft voice with words of kindness.

"There you are," he smiled at the feline and wondered how he had gotten so lost. He hoped that the dog hadn't hurt him.

After the English cat had finished drinking, Francis scooped him up, coat and all, and carried him to the bathroom.

I swear, if you try to give me a bath, I will claw your eyes out, Arthur warned relentlessly.

That wasn't what he had in mind though. Instead, he set Arthur on the counter of the bathroom next to the sink and grabbed a washcloth. He soaked it in warm water and used the cloth to pet the felines fur clean. He did this, and also turned rougher looking patches up, looking for wounds of any kind. Luckily, he found none.

Once most of the dirt was gone, Francis placed the cloth in the sink and went to the tub and turned the hot water on and corked the tub. He looked over his shoulder at Arthur, who was a bit anxious. He wasn't particularly okay with being bathed. The washcloth was good enough. Francis smiled. "Don't worry, it isn't for you." He let the water run. The steam filled the air and it felt good in comparison to the bitter cold that was the outdoors.

Francis stood up and removed his shirt and tossed it aside.

What in the bloody hell do you think you're doing, Arthur gasped at him. He buried his face in his paws. Oh dear lord, please put your pants back on! He peeked and quickly covered his face again. And your undergarments, too... I really hope this potion doesn't suddenly wear off. He heard the water shut off and then there was silence for a moment. He then heard the water being splashed about, and then he heard Francis get in.

The man let out a long sigh of relief and sank into the steamy pool, closing his eyes.

Dear lord, Francis, Arthur complained. I know we've known each other for a very long time, but I don't need to be a part of these personal activities….

For as awkward as the situation was, the warm air felt really nice. If the Frenchman knew anything, it was to care for someone when they were ill. He looked over his shoulder at his own reflection and sighed. He had mostly white fur with an orange patch over his eye and his tail. His eyes were the familiar green colour that they had always been.

This is a mess, he thought. Not only was he stuck in a felines body, but he didn't really have any way to communicate. He doubted Francis would try to understand him. Why would he? As far as he's concerned, he took in a homeless cat.

The warm air really was relaxing, though. Before he knew it, Arthur had fallen asleep with his paws covering his face. His dreams were blurry besides the soft humming from the Frenchman and the movement of the water.

He woke up only to quickly close his eyes. This was getting rather embarrassing for him.

He was suddenly being lifted. He gasped and squirmed a bit, and as he did, Francis softly shushed him and tried to sooth him. What he didn't realize was he was holding his friend.

"There, there," he hummed. Arthur carefully opened his eyes and noticed that Francis was no longer completely nude. He was wearing an ivory silk robe with rose vine embroidery. It was quite elegant and Arthur expected no less from him. Then again, he half expected the man to sleep without any cloths. He hoped that once he was carried into the bedroom that the robe would stay on. It was awkward enough to be carried by him.

It was nice, though, to be taken care of so gingerly. It was a side of the Frenchman that Arthur had rarely seen. He had a love for all things beautiful, even a sickly cat… It almost pained him, but Arthur would have to thank Francis kindly for this hospitality. That is, if he ever got out of this form.

The hotel's bedroom was very warm and cozy. Arthur suspected that his caretaker had cranked the heat up. The bed sheets were made of silk much like the robe he wore.

He placed Arthur on the bad and circled to the other side. His hair was still damp but he didn't seem to mind too much. He must have dried most of it with a towel while Arthur had slept.

The light was turned off and Arthur felt his partner climb into bed. He let out long sigh and his entire figure relaxed in the darkness. Arthur huffed a bit and scratched his ear.

After a few long minutes of silence, he started shivering a bit. This was excessive, being so cold for so long. He then made a choice against his own better judgment. He slid under the covers and crawled up to the warm Frenchman.

"Well, bonjour," Francis cooed, feeling him crawl against him. He put an arm around the feline to share his body heat and smiled. "Sleep tight," he whispered.

It only took a few minutes for both of them to drift off into a deep sleep.

Arthur opened his emerald eyes to the glistening sunlight that pierced through the window and on his face. He felt very warm and constricted. He looked down and saw an arm wrapped around his waist. He blinked.

His waist… was not at all furry.

He tried processing the information. I was a cat a moment ago.

"It wore off," he said softly.

"Hm?"

The arm moved on his side and he suddenly remembered where he was.

Oh no, he's going to freak out…

He looked at his own body and realized something horrid.

He was naked.

He was lying next to Francis….naked.

Oh he is definitely going to freak out!

Francis immediately realized something was wrong and sat up. He blinked sleepiness away and tried focusing on Arthur's face.

"Please don't freak out," Arthur squeaked.

Francis shrieked like a girl and fell backwards out of the bed. He hit the floor with a loud thud and hie silk robe came undone.

Arthur covered himself and his face at the same time. "Please censor yourself."

"Me?!" He stood up and pulled his robe closed. "Wait a moment… Where's the…" He stopped. "Oh...oh…."

Arthur sighed and muttered, "Yeah."

"You…you're…?"

"Scones," he snapped, mocking the name. "Yes."

"What did you do," he asked and practically scolded at the same time. "Were you toying with…magic?" He never really understood Arthur's hobby.

He nodded. "It was potion work," he explained. "I went outside to try to get help, but got swept up by the storm. The next thing I knew, I was being dragged about by that mutt."

"I see," Francis said. He turned and went to the small dresser and opened a drawer. He pulled out a set of cloths that would suit Arthur's fancy. It was a suit, and although it was more colorful than Arthur usually preferred, it was a set of clothing. It was a light shade of blue and the collared shirt was ivory. Francis left out the tie and handed everything to his friend.

"Thank you," Arthur said, taking the cloths gratefully. He watched as Francis started making his own way to the bathroom with a set of cloths for himself. He had chosen something much fancier, of course. A ruffled lavender shirt and tight black pants to match. Arthur bit his lip and added, "For everything."

Francis stopped and turned in the doorway. "Pardon?"

Arthur sighed. "Thank you… for everything you've done. If it wasn't for you…" I would be dead.

Francis smiled softly. "What are friends for?" He clapped his hands. "Now get dressed," he ordered. "I'm starving and I say we should get breakfast!"

Arthur smiled back at him as he slipped into the bathroom. It felt nice to smile like this every once and a while.