So, this is actually the first fanfiction I've ever written after reading more 300+. To be honest, I'm rather surprised it's Harry Potter, rather than the anime I always seem to be somewhat submerged in.

I rather enjoyed writing this. It was actually for a prompt to "write anything in the HP universe, canon or non-canon". It seems that this scene could have occurred though. Possibly.

...If effort counts for anything, then I'll admit that I did try.

So, ah... I'm hoping that this does feel slightly less awkward as I write more.

(And yes, I am a fan of DMxHP)

The tranquil silence in Hogwarts' corridors proved to be merely ephemeral as class let out at noon. Streams of students poured from the classrooms, and a crescendo of sounds emanated from them as they filed to the Great Hall for the midday meal in hordes. Murmurs of meat pies and pumpkin juice along with the usual natter resounded through the halls. The majority of the school was rushing for food, sans Neville Longbottom, who was cleaning his cauldron after another potions mishap, and Luna Lovegood, who was examining the ceiling of the charms classroom for another magical creature from her assortment that she claimed was real. Snape, being Snape, was private as usual, choosing to categorize ingredients in his storeroom.

The three were almost finished with their tasks, and the prospect of lunch seemed quite pleasant to them. However, at that same moment, food was the farthest thing from the mind of a certain Harry Potter. Instead of resigning himself to listen about which new boy Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil were currently gushing over at the Gryffindor table, Harry was hiding behind a statue of a stereotypically snaggletooth witch, trying to be discreet as he focused on the sharp clicking of well-polished heels heading in his direction. As usual, Harry's efforts were greatly aided by his invisibility cloak. Still, the person he was following-with-no-creepy-intentions-whatsoever seemed to have a knack of sensing Harry's presence.

Just as he finished his thought, his target, the once-ferrety face of a certain Slytherin made his presence known. Malfoy had grown into his pointy facial features in the past few years, but his eyes, which were now darting around furtively, contradicted his new ferret-feature-free status. With just as much grace as his animal counterpart, Draco immediately broke into a pace that alternated between a brisk walk and a slow jog once saw his passage was clear.

Now, after witnessing his suspicious behavior, Harry was convinced that Malfoy was up to a task for the Dark Lord. No doubt, he was planning to infiltrate Dumbledore's office and filch top-secret Order of the Phoenix information that even Harry hadn't been able to get his hands on yet. Once he succeeded, Draco would probably be inducted into the Death Eaters, and forever honored as a master of espionage. More importantly though, he would be known to have one-upped Harry Potter, and considering that Harry wasn't on the best of terms with the Death Eaters, he didn't want any flaws in his abilities of perception and observation in show.

...It wasn't as if he was slowly becoming obsessed with Malfoy or anything. That my story and I'm sticking with it, Harry thought. So, ever the noble yet somewhat deluded hero, Harry rushed after Draco, noting with a satisfied grin that his cloak was swishing in a very dramatic fashion after him.

Somewhere along the way, Draco's run and Harry's chase had led them to an abandoned Quidditch shed. Both of them short of breath, Draco slipped in through a rickety old door, and Harry followed, barely managing to pass without hitting the door and alerting Draco of his presence. The room was dark, but a softly murmured "Lumos" from Draco rectified the problem. A dankness permeated the room, which was to be expected as it seemed nobody other than Malfoy had been in the room for ages. Gray paint was peeling off the moldering wood walls, and the sole window was grimy, letting in little light. A pile of moth-eaten, mildew-crusted quidditch robes sat next to what looked to have once been a closet of sorts.

To say that Harry was puzzle would be an understatement. He couldn't even begin fathom why Malfoy would ever enter a place like the one they were currently in, since the Malfoy he was accustomed to would sneer, and with a oh-so-perfectly-arched eyebrow, proceed to quip that only Weasleys and Muggle-borns would ever willingly enter the squalid place.

There was only one explanation. Malfoy must be up to something truly dastardly if he was willing forsake his principles of hygiene.

In the corner was a pile of rags, and to Harry's surprise, it was… twitching. Harry immediately drew out his wand from underneath his cloak in case it harbored a Dark Creature that would wreak untold destruction on school grounds. However, when Draco unveiled the thing burrowed in the pile of cloth, it seemed a little too white, furry, and cute to be evil.

Holy. Beep. Harry wasn't an expert on animals by any means, considering he wasn't often taken to the zoo as a child, and the Dursleys didn't find it necessary to bestow books about those subjects upon him. Still, he could clearly identify the ball of white fur after the rather visual demonstration performed by the fake-Moody in 4th year. It was undeniable.

Draco freaking Malfoy was taking care of a ferret.

How was that even supposed to work? ..."Human Ferret" Malfoy owned an actual fluffy ferret as a pet. Somewhere in the back of Harry's mind, a voice snickered that Lucius Malfoy most certainly wouldn't have approved of his son's choice in a pet. Then again, it was rather adorable in an ironic way. After a couple of minutes listening to Draco coo at his pet ferret and feed him morsels of treats he had brought with him, Harry slipped out the way he came. I think I'll get some leftovers at lunch and come back later, he thought. Hope Ron and Hermione saved me a seat.

His shoes sloshed through a few puddles as he made his way back to the castle, but Harry didn't mind. To him, the sun seemed a little brighter, and the grass on the pitch slightly more alive as he trekked towards the Great Hall.

There hadn't really been any concrete changes in Harry and Draco's relationship. Still, Harry felt the strangest sense of gratitude that he was about to see a new facet of Draco's personality. Still, he snorted in disbelief, Draco is a cute, cuddly ferret owner. Imagine that.