-Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J. K. Rowling.
-Genre/Story type: General
-Series: Harry Potter
-Rating: PG
-Warnings: Hints of a spoiler for "Goblet of Fire."
-Author's Comments: This is an Armchair Secret Santa fic for Tanzy. Merry Christmas, Tanzy-san! ^^ I hope you enjoy the fic (although it's not exactly the best XD) I'm sorry for the lag! ;_; I am dreadfully sorry if you think they are acting OOC. XD
The Secret Santa request was: "Harry's Animagus form is a ferret. Draco finds out." It had to range from 300-3000+ words. The deadline was Dec. 25th, 2002, but it was advised to send fics from Dec 20th-24th. Rating was PG13 or lower. ^^ Any innuendoes you THINK you see are just a figment of your imagination. Really. O =)
Urm. Feel free to post this to the Armchair Slash ML or your LJ, Tanzy. If you'd like to post this anywhere else, please ask me for permission. To everyone else, please do not post this fic anywhere without my permission. ^^;
A note: A black sable has blue-black guard hairs with no golden or brownish cast, with a white to cream undercoat. Many delighted thanks to Katalyst, who graciously tested the fic for me. ^^
------------------
In - Joke
------------------
Harry Potter wasn't quite sure how it happened.
One moment he was passed out on his bed from exhaustion. The next, he was stretched out on a different bed-- one with green and silver sheets and curtains. Winding back his memories, Harry remembered working alone on his private Transfiguration lesson. He remembered exhaustedly calling it a day and staggering up to the dorm room. He distinctly recalled flopping onto his bed in the Gryffindor Tower. Then, nothing.
What the hell had happened?
Harry blinked bewilderedly at the canopy above him. He really didn't want to think it, but it looked awfully like he was in another House dorm. The Slytherin house dorm. It figured. It really did.
If he were able to, Harry would've sighed and thudded his head against the wall. Unfortunately, he wasn't in the position to do that. For one thing, there was no wall near him. For another, he was horizontal. And naked, but that was irrelevant. Sighing, Harry nonchalantly snuggled under a sheet and quickly reviewed his options. The most obvious move would be to just run out, since he wasn't tied up, but he didn't fancy strutting through the Slytherin common room at this moment. Especially since a certain Slytherin would probably go spare at the sight of him. Cringing at that thought, Harry was distracted from contemplating his options. Then he was unable to think about what to do as aforementioned Slytherin abruptly entered the room.
"That stupid Weasley," the blonde muttered, seething. Draco Malfoy's ice gold hair shimmered in the ambivalent light as he disdainfully brushed off the sleeves of his ebony robes. "If he thinks I can't take his pathetic retaliation for that comment I said, he's dead wrong--" Malfoy turned.
(Aw, shit.)
Malfoy took one look at him and paled with shock. Then his countenance darkened. Although he couldn't read Malfoy's expression very well, it only took Harry a moment to realize Malfoy was shaking from pure rage. Unsurprising. Harry was none too happy with the situation himself. As Malfoy grabbed him, Harry knew it didn't bode well.
Harry felt every jarring step Malfoy took as he stormed down the Great Hall toward the Gryffindor table. As it was a Sunday, there were less people; one of the reasons, Harry speculated, why his absence had not been noticed yet. Looking over the people in Malfoy's path, Malfoy's goal became clear. Briefly, Harry wondered if the smirking redhead had anything to do with his sudden trip to the Slytherin dungeons.
As Malfoy dangled him in front of a strangely smug Ron Weasley, Harry wished for the umpteenth time he wasn't so small. He was very unamused.
"Weasley," Malfoy hissed from clenched teeth. "How did you get _this_ into my bed?"
"What the hell are you talking about Malfoy?" shot back Ron, straight-faced. "I didn't do anything, but it is *quite* fitting."
"Only an unfashionable deadbeat like you would think so; no one else is stupid enough to try. I can report you for trespassing in the Slytherin dorms."
"I said I had nothing to do with it," Ron repeated. "What, are you going to report _him_," Ron nodded at Harry, "too? Maybe he just got into your bed because your inner Malfoy called to its own kind."
Malfoy parted his lips, but stopped, unable to find a proper retort. He flushed faintly with embarrassed rage. "I'll just keep this then and trace his owner," he sneered. "Pray your words back up, Weasel." Glaring death at Ron, Malfoy snatched up Harry, turned on his heel, and left. Ron rolled his eyes at him.
As the Slytherin stalked out of sight, Ron cracked up laughing at the sight of Draco Malfoy wandering around Hogwarts clutching a *ferret*.
(I knew I should have told Ron and Hermione about my Animagus form,) Harry groused, pressed tightly against Malfoy under Malfoy's robes. Malfoy had hidden him there to circumvent any awkward questions. Harry understood that, but the careful way Malfoy cradled him left him a bit puzzled. (But it's a ferret! They'll never stop laughing at me.)
(How the hell did I end up with this form anyway? Of all the animals to turn into...) Harry sighed. Privately he guessed the impact of the Malfoy-meets-Moody incident must have made a deeper impression on him than he had thought.
Harry felt Malfoy's forward motion stop. As he was under Malfoy's robe, he couldn't see anything, but Harry guessed Malfoy reached his destination. His guess was proven correct as Malfoy hoisted him up from the darkness of his robes and tossed him on a bed decorated in Slytherin colors. They were back in the Slytherin dorm rooms. Harry bounced a bit before he regained his bearings and curled on top of the emerald sheets. He lashed his tail a bit. Staring at Harry for a brief moment, Malfoy narrowed his eyes and went into a fit of pique.
Harry apprehensively watched Malfoy pace and mutter to himself in the empty dorm room. Strangely enough, not a single curse escaped the Slytherin's lips. Apparently, Malfoy considered himself too refined for that. After a few minutes, Malfoy stopped pacing.
Harry scooted back a bit as Malfoy turned his intense silvery gaze upon him. "Well, since I'm stuck with you for now, I might as well remove the germs and grim from your mangy coat," he said, raking a disapproving look over Harry. Harry sighed. (Well... that isn't too bad. As opposed to being tortured and chopped me into potions ingredients or something.) Harry refused to consider being bathed as an animal was the same as being bathed as a human. The implications were too disturbing and humiliating.
Malfoy rummaged through his wardrobe and picked out a few clothes. "I might as well take a bath myself," he murmured, draping his clothing over one arm and tucking Harry under the other. Pushing past the dorm door, Malfoy headed for the common room.
Harry took a moment to process that statement. (He's going to... wash with me?! No! This is worse than being tortured or chopped into pieces!)
Harry did not want to see Draco as nature intended him. With panic, he wrenched under Malfoy's arm and tried to escape from his hold.
Draco started at the unexpected struggling from the formerly docile creature. "Start wiggling, you-- you thing!" he snapped, quickly repositioning his hands on the wildly writhing animal. He grasped the ferret tightly and shook it, careful not to use too much force. Though its head snapped back and forth from the shaking, the ferret still scrabbled frantically. "You act like I'm going to kill you or something," Draco hissed, making his way out of the Slytherin dungeons and toward the baths, carrying the _very_ reluctant ferret along. "It's just a bath!" Pausing his address to the dark-haired ferret, Draco threw a scorching glance at a gawking Slytherin. "Kindly take your eyes off me." The first-year hurriedly redirected his gaze.
"And you!" Draco looked back at the ferret. "Stop it! I happen to..." Draco swallowed. It wasn't a secret among the Slytherins he had a weakness for small, cute animals, but it had become something of a joke ever since that malicious bastard of a DADA teacher had transfigured him into an animal he had a likeness for. Draco was _most_ unhappy he had been revealed as a playful, cuddly white relative of a weasel. He had a reputation to keep, damnit! "Like ferrets, okay? Calm down." The last sentence was drawled in a soft croon. It seemed to work. The ferret went limp.
Satisfied he had gotten his point across, Draco reached the baths and went in.
Harry was in shock. (Malfoy likes ferrets?!) He dimly heard the click of the bathroom door being locked as Malfoy set him down on a marble counter and went to fill a basin with warm water.
A hint of hilarity registered in the daze of his mind, but Harry was distracted from falling into hysterical laughter when Malfoy abruptly picked him up and dropped him into the basin of warm water. Dread was a leaden weight in his stomach as Harry belatedly remembered his predicament. Malfoy remained blissfully ignorant.
Petting Harry's damp head, Malfoy absently unraveled the ties to his robe and allowed gravity to draw it off his slight shoulders and pool the frozen ripples of black cloth around his feet.
Harry's mouth went dry as Malfoy's pale alabaster skin slid from his clothing and glowed, bared. Malfoy's slender form was luminous, reflecting the bright lighting of the bathroom. As Malfoy's fingers lowered to his abdomen to shed his trousers, Harry hastily shut his eyes and twisted around in the warm water. (Oh god. Oh god. Ohgodohgodohgodnonono. Nono. No.) Remembering that the bathroom door was locked, Harry resignedly stayed put; the only thing he would accomplish by running was having a naked Malfoy chasing after him. He would go shag his uncle first before he made Malfoy run after him, stark naked.
Harry feverishly prayed that Malfoy would just rinse him and then settle into the bathtub where Harry would mercifully be unable to see anything.
Unfortunately, God was not in a merciful mood. "I better shampoo you," said Malfoy thoughtfully, somewhere above his head. "You look like a black sable, but maybe that darkness just filth." Harry twitched as thick liquid coated his body and stiffened as gentle, but firm fingers reached down and started massaging the thick goop into his hair. He let out a chuffing yelp as Malfoy touched somewhere he definitely should NOT have touched. "Ah. So Weasley was right, you *are* a male-- OW!"
Harry bit him.
"Bloody bastard," Draco muttered, plucking the cleaned, blue-black ferret from his lap and rising from the steaming water of a tub. "I never took you for a biter."
Nursing his bleeding finger and muttering about rabies, Draco dried them off, clothed himself, picked up his dirty clothing, and dragged the sufficiently subdued black sable ferret back to his dorm room. It looked traumatized. Well, it was its own bloody fault it made Draco lapse into a shouting fit. A shouting fit which effect was severely undermined by the fact he was nude, but efficiently delivered in the customary icy and vicious whisper of the Malfoys, nonetheless. Cradling the ferret in one hand with his dirty clothing and pinching the bridge of his nose with the other, Draco shook off the fuzziness slowing his motions. He was tired. "I'll take you to Professor Snape later to see whom you belong to," he told the intelligent animal.
Draco brought his other hand down to support the animal as it shifted. "I might as well call you something while you're with me," he mused, walking into his dorm yet again and settling on his bed.
"No, *stay*," Draco said sharply when the ferret appeared ready to bolt. "Don't make me bewitch you so you can't leave me." The ferret stopped dead and weakly settled down. "Good." Draco stretched sensuously, rolling out his hips as he arched his back. The silvery strands of hair swayed loosely in front of his luminous, argent eyes. (Dratted thing wore me out in the bath. I think I'll take a nap. But first...) Getting up, Draco stacked his dirty clothes at their designated area. The House elves would pick them up in the early morning and wash them. He rummaged in his trunk for a while, setting things in order and then sat back on his bed. Tilting back, he sprawled across his sheets. At a small protesting squeak, Draco opened his eyes and gave a slight, self-decrepitating smile. Turning to his side, he reached out and scooped the ferret toward him, hugging it to his chest like a stuffed toy.
"Wraith," Draco murmured. At the sable black's querying look, Draco clarified. "What about Wraith for a name?" Draco examined the blank look on the ferret's face. "Mmm, no then. Perhaps, Hades? Nyx? Kardis?" He ran a hand through thick, blue-black hair and gently stroked the ferret's creamy undercoat. Draco knew he shouldn't bother naming the creature; he was becoming attached to it and no good would come of that. "Ah..." Draco exclaimed quietly, pausing at a flaw in the ferret's coloration. There was a curious aberration of dark grey on the black sable's forehead. "Cain." Draco rolled over, settling the ferret on his chest. "I name you Cain. And I'll know you," he said, "by this Mark on your head." He idly tracked the jagged line of lighter fur. Draco closed his eyes dreamily, lured into a state of half-awareness.
"You know, most people don't realize that everything blurs to me. It's all the same--only with varying degrees of imperfection. When I was little I had problems recognizing my father and mum. They were so perfect. One day, when we were going to a Gathering, they took me aside and bared an arm. They showed me their Mark. 'Look here,' they said. 'If you can't remember our faces, look here for this. This is your family.' I never forgot who they were after that." He opened his eyes to meet Cain's stunned gaze. "And I won't forget you," he said lightly, "As long as you have that Mark. I remember classmates that way too. Even the Gryffindors." Draco gave a short laugh. "I remember Weasley by the pattern of the freckles on his face. Granger from her teeth; after she fixed those--her hair. Potter--amazingly enough--NOT his scar. His glasses. Those ridiculous taped up Muggle glasses. I could never see his eyes and for the longest time I thought he couldn't meet my gaze. Then it was because he thought he was too good for me. Then it was just because he's blind. Poor, blind, orphaned Potter. The Gryffindor hero..." Draco heard his voice trail off.
"...Good night, Cain..." he whispered as he sank into sleep.
Heart kicking against his ribs, Harry inhaled deeply and tried to regain his calm. He slowly wiggled out of Malfoy's grasp and shuffled next to the still form. Cautiously, Harry prodded Malfoy's hand with his nose. The fingers twitched slightly in response, but Malfoy's breathing remained deep and steady.
Convinced that the Slytherin was asleep, Harry turned and dropped off the bed, heading for the door. As enlightening as his misadventure proved to be, if he remained missing any longer, people would start looking for him and the resulting mess would be unpleasant. Darting out the thankfully open door, Harry kept close to the walls and escaped through the Slytherin entrance as a few students entered their common room.
He was not going to look at Malfoy the same way again.
Potter was acting strangely.
Not to say Potter wasn't usually strange, but he was acting more strangely than usual. Any time Draco was not looking at him, he was sure Potter was staring uncomfortably at him. Every time Draco _did_ look at him, Potter would pale, flush, and quickly direct his attention elsewhere. In other words, Potter freaked whenever he caught sight of him.
Draco found it immensely annoying. Still, he said nothing. Nothing, until end of Care of Magical Creatures class, when he finally could not ignore the rudeness of Potter's edginess.
"Potter. If you insist on staring at me, I demand financial remuneration."
"I-- I'm not--"
"I stopped trying to convince myself that after the fifth time I caught you doing so at breakfast."
"Well, it's not what you think--"
"Was that ferret yours?" Draco asked brusquely. He had woken up in the morning to discover the black sable gone. Cain's sudden disappearance had left a strangely empty feeling. "It left on its own, if that's why you're staring at me."
"No. Ah--" Potter shook his head fiercely. A look of frustration-- and was that embarrassment?-- crossed Potter's face. He exhaled sharply and made an exasperated gesture with his hand before jerking his gaze away from Draco. Clearly retreating, Potter turned to leave with the rest of his class. Frowning, Draco caught his sleeve and pulled him back hard. "What is it, Potty?" he persisted, annoyed.
Stumbling, Harry tripped. His glasses dislodged from his elfin face. "Damn. It's nothing, Malfoy! Leave it alone." He bent down to retrieve his errant glasses.
Draco wasn't sure what prompted him to do it, but he also reached down to pick up Potter's glasses--Potter's marked flaw. His hand met Potter's as they touched the metal frame. They froze. Draco's eyes flicked up to Potter's vivid, eerie green gaze. Unconsciously, they shifted to his infamous lightening scar. That jagged line of paler skin...
Potter remained motionless as Draco leaned forward and traced the crooked scar with a pale, slender finger. The imperfection reflected inside him. Draco knew it for what it was.
"...Cain..."
Potter's start confirmed his guilt. Draco stared at him. He looked down and gently drew Potter's glasses from the raven-haired boy's grasp. Unfolding the earpieces, he courteously set the glasses on Potter's nose. Smiling, Draco took a step back. Then he dealt a forceful, vicious slap across Potter's face. Draco's eyes were bits of mirror in his face, revealing nothing.
"You thought it was funny," he said softly, without a trace of doubt. "Just like my name."
Draco left without another word.
That evening, the Great Hall was treated to the astonishing sight of a Gryffindor walking over to the Slytherin table. What made it more curious and outrageous was that the Gryffindor was Harry Potter and the Slytherin he approached was Draco Malfoy.
Harry was determined to explain things to Malfoy even if it killed him. "Malfoy..." he said, stopping beside the blonde's chair. The Slytherin looked at him with half-lidded eyes, cold and irate. "I need--"
Malfoy shoved him back. "Get lost, Gryffindor."
"Malfoy-- it was an accident," Harry said determinedly, stepping closer and ignoring the ache from the pressure of Malfoy's hands against his chest. "I was transfigured and someone just decided to play a prank on you."
Malfoy sneered at him.
Fully contrite, Harry continued with his apology. "I'm sorry, Malfoy," he said sincerely, with a raised voice that carried clearly across the Great Hall.
Across the hall, a furiously red Ron spluttered in outrage and a surprised Hermione was watching them both curiously.
"Even if you don't believe it, I'm sorry." Harry hesitated a second, then dropped his voice to a whisper. "Even though you took some liberties with me," he murmured huskily, flushing darkly. Harry was not quiet enough; he failed to notice the shocked looks crossing the nearby Slytherins' faces.
Malfoy stared at him blankly for a moment before Harry's meaning registered. A pink tinge ran across his face as faint horror glimmered in his silver eyes. "I could say the same for you, Potter," he hissed quietly. "You saw me na--"
"You're the one who dragged me in there," shot back Harry, crimson with embarrassment.
"You looked filthy when I found you, what did you expect me to do?"
"Oh forget it, Malfoy," Harry said in exasperation. He backed up and started to turn. The raven-haired Gryffindor suddenly experienced a bout of deja vu as Malfoy shot out an arm, causing him to nearly lose his balance. The Slytherin tugged on his hold on the front of Harry's robes and forced Harry to lean towards him. Bending forward, Malfoy moved so close to Harry's face that their lips almost brushed.
"Stay," Malfoy breathed in a low purr. He smelled of frost, autumn air, and fragrant roses. A smirk graced his face as a stunned Harry complied. In that same unforgiving, beautifully deadly voice, Malfoy gently asked a quiet question that somehow carried to everyone in the Great Hall.
"Does that mean you're my pet now, Potter?"
*end*
-Genre/Story type: General
-Series: Harry Potter
-Rating: PG
-Warnings: Hints of a spoiler for "Goblet of Fire."
-Author's Comments: This is an Armchair Secret Santa fic for Tanzy. Merry Christmas, Tanzy-san! ^^ I hope you enjoy the fic (although it's not exactly the best XD) I'm sorry for the lag! ;_; I am dreadfully sorry if you think they are acting OOC. XD
The Secret Santa request was: "Harry's Animagus form is a ferret. Draco finds out." It had to range from 300-3000+ words. The deadline was Dec. 25th, 2002, but it was advised to send fics from Dec 20th-24th. Rating was PG13 or lower. ^^ Any innuendoes you THINK you see are just a figment of your imagination. Really. O =)
Urm. Feel free to post this to the Armchair Slash ML or your LJ, Tanzy. If you'd like to post this anywhere else, please ask me for permission. To everyone else, please do not post this fic anywhere without my permission. ^^;
A note: A black sable has blue-black guard hairs with no golden or brownish cast, with a white to cream undercoat. Many delighted thanks to Katalyst, who graciously tested the fic for me. ^^
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In - Joke
------------------
Harry Potter wasn't quite sure how it happened.
One moment he was passed out on his bed from exhaustion. The next, he was stretched out on a different bed-- one with green and silver sheets and curtains. Winding back his memories, Harry remembered working alone on his private Transfiguration lesson. He remembered exhaustedly calling it a day and staggering up to the dorm room. He distinctly recalled flopping onto his bed in the Gryffindor Tower. Then, nothing.
What the hell had happened?
Harry blinked bewilderedly at the canopy above him. He really didn't want to think it, but it looked awfully like he was in another House dorm. The Slytherin house dorm. It figured. It really did.
If he were able to, Harry would've sighed and thudded his head against the wall. Unfortunately, he wasn't in the position to do that. For one thing, there was no wall near him. For another, he was horizontal. And naked, but that was irrelevant. Sighing, Harry nonchalantly snuggled under a sheet and quickly reviewed his options. The most obvious move would be to just run out, since he wasn't tied up, but he didn't fancy strutting through the Slytherin common room at this moment. Especially since a certain Slytherin would probably go spare at the sight of him. Cringing at that thought, Harry was distracted from contemplating his options. Then he was unable to think about what to do as aforementioned Slytherin abruptly entered the room.
"That stupid Weasley," the blonde muttered, seething. Draco Malfoy's ice gold hair shimmered in the ambivalent light as he disdainfully brushed off the sleeves of his ebony robes. "If he thinks I can't take his pathetic retaliation for that comment I said, he's dead wrong--" Malfoy turned.
(Aw, shit.)
Malfoy took one look at him and paled with shock. Then his countenance darkened. Although he couldn't read Malfoy's expression very well, it only took Harry a moment to realize Malfoy was shaking from pure rage. Unsurprising. Harry was none too happy with the situation himself. As Malfoy grabbed him, Harry knew it didn't bode well.
Harry felt every jarring step Malfoy took as he stormed down the Great Hall toward the Gryffindor table. As it was a Sunday, there were less people; one of the reasons, Harry speculated, why his absence had not been noticed yet. Looking over the people in Malfoy's path, Malfoy's goal became clear. Briefly, Harry wondered if the smirking redhead had anything to do with his sudden trip to the Slytherin dungeons.
As Malfoy dangled him in front of a strangely smug Ron Weasley, Harry wished for the umpteenth time he wasn't so small. He was very unamused.
"Weasley," Malfoy hissed from clenched teeth. "How did you get _this_ into my bed?"
"What the hell are you talking about Malfoy?" shot back Ron, straight-faced. "I didn't do anything, but it is *quite* fitting."
"Only an unfashionable deadbeat like you would think so; no one else is stupid enough to try. I can report you for trespassing in the Slytherin dorms."
"I said I had nothing to do with it," Ron repeated. "What, are you going to report _him_," Ron nodded at Harry, "too? Maybe he just got into your bed because your inner Malfoy called to its own kind."
Malfoy parted his lips, but stopped, unable to find a proper retort. He flushed faintly with embarrassed rage. "I'll just keep this then and trace his owner," he sneered. "Pray your words back up, Weasel." Glaring death at Ron, Malfoy snatched up Harry, turned on his heel, and left. Ron rolled his eyes at him.
As the Slytherin stalked out of sight, Ron cracked up laughing at the sight of Draco Malfoy wandering around Hogwarts clutching a *ferret*.
(I knew I should have told Ron and Hermione about my Animagus form,) Harry groused, pressed tightly against Malfoy under Malfoy's robes. Malfoy had hidden him there to circumvent any awkward questions. Harry understood that, but the careful way Malfoy cradled him left him a bit puzzled. (But it's a ferret! They'll never stop laughing at me.)
(How the hell did I end up with this form anyway? Of all the animals to turn into...) Harry sighed. Privately he guessed the impact of the Malfoy-meets-Moody incident must have made a deeper impression on him than he had thought.
Harry felt Malfoy's forward motion stop. As he was under Malfoy's robe, he couldn't see anything, but Harry guessed Malfoy reached his destination. His guess was proven correct as Malfoy hoisted him up from the darkness of his robes and tossed him on a bed decorated in Slytherin colors. They were back in the Slytherin dorm rooms. Harry bounced a bit before he regained his bearings and curled on top of the emerald sheets. He lashed his tail a bit. Staring at Harry for a brief moment, Malfoy narrowed his eyes and went into a fit of pique.
Harry apprehensively watched Malfoy pace and mutter to himself in the empty dorm room. Strangely enough, not a single curse escaped the Slytherin's lips. Apparently, Malfoy considered himself too refined for that. After a few minutes, Malfoy stopped pacing.
Harry scooted back a bit as Malfoy turned his intense silvery gaze upon him. "Well, since I'm stuck with you for now, I might as well remove the germs and grim from your mangy coat," he said, raking a disapproving look over Harry. Harry sighed. (Well... that isn't too bad. As opposed to being tortured and chopped me into potions ingredients or something.) Harry refused to consider being bathed as an animal was the same as being bathed as a human. The implications were too disturbing and humiliating.
Malfoy rummaged through his wardrobe and picked out a few clothes. "I might as well take a bath myself," he murmured, draping his clothing over one arm and tucking Harry under the other. Pushing past the dorm door, Malfoy headed for the common room.
Harry took a moment to process that statement. (He's going to... wash with me?! No! This is worse than being tortured or chopped into pieces!)
Harry did not want to see Draco as nature intended him. With panic, he wrenched under Malfoy's arm and tried to escape from his hold.
Draco started at the unexpected struggling from the formerly docile creature. "Start wiggling, you-- you thing!" he snapped, quickly repositioning his hands on the wildly writhing animal. He grasped the ferret tightly and shook it, careful not to use too much force. Though its head snapped back and forth from the shaking, the ferret still scrabbled frantically. "You act like I'm going to kill you or something," Draco hissed, making his way out of the Slytherin dungeons and toward the baths, carrying the _very_ reluctant ferret along. "It's just a bath!" Pausing his address to the dark-haired ferret, Draco threw a scorching glance at a gawking Slytherin. "Kindly take your eyes off me." The first-year hurriedly redirected his gaze.
"And you!" Draco looked back at the ferret. "Stop it! I happen to..." Draco swallowed. It wasn't a secret among the Slytherins he had a weakness for small, cute animals, but it had become something of a joke ever since that malicious bastard of a DADA teacher had transfigured him into an animal he had a likeness for. Draco was _most_ unhappy he had been revealed as a playful, cuddly white relative of a weasel. He had a reputation to keep, damnit! "Like ferrets, okay? Calm down." The last sentence was drawled in a soft croon. It seemed to work. The ferret went limp.
Satisfied he had gotten his point across, Draco reached the baths and went in.
Harry was in shock. (Malfoy likes ferrets?!) He dimly heard the click of the bathroom door being locked as Malfoy set him down on a marble counter and went to fill a basin with warm water.
A hint of hilarity registered in the daze of his mind, but Harry was distracted from falling into hysterical laughter when Malfoy abruptly picked him up and dropped him into the basin of warm water. Dread was a leaden weight in his stomach as Harry belatedly remembered his predicament. Malfoy remained blissfully ignorant.
Petting Harry's damp head, Malfoy absently unraveled the ties to his robe and allowed gravity to draw it off his slight shoulders and pool the frozen ripples of black cloth around his feet.
Harry's mouth went dry as Malfoy's pale alabaster skin slid from his clothing and glowed, bared. Malfoy's slender form was luminous, reflecting the bright lighting of the bathroom. As Malfoy's fingers lowered to his abdomen to shed his trousers, Harry hastily shut his eyes and twisted around in the warm water. (Oh god. Oh god. Ohgodohgodohgodnonono. Nono. No.) Remembering that the bathroom door was locked, Harry resignedly stayed put; the only thing he would accomplish by running was having a naked Malfoy chasing after him. He would go shag his uncle first before he made Malfoy run after him, stark naked.
Harry feverishly prayed that Malfoy would just rinse him and then settle into the bathtub where Harry would mercifully be unable to see anything.
Unfortunately, God was not in a merciful mood. "I better shampoo you," said Malfoy thoughtfully, somewhere above his head. "You look like a black sable, but maybe that darkness just filth." Harry twitched as thick liquid coated his body and stiffened as gentle, but firm fingers reached down and started massaging the thick goop into his hair. He let out a chuffing yelp as Malfoy touched somewhere he definitely should NOT have touched. "Ah. So Weasley was right, you *are* a male-- OW!"
Harry bit him.
"Bloody bastard," Draco muttered, plucking the cleaned, blue-black ferret from his lap and rising from the steaming water of a tub. "I never took you for a biter."
Nursing his bleeding finger and muttering about rabies, Draco dried them off, clothed himself, picked up his dirty clothing, and dragged the sufficiently subdued black sable ferret back to his dorm room. It looked traumatized. Well, it was its own bloody fault it made Draco lapse into a shouting fit. A shouting fit which effect was severely undermined by the fact he was nude, but efficiently delivered in the customary icy and vicious whisper of the Malfoys, nonetheless. Cradling the ferret in one hand with his dirty clothing and pinching the bridge of his nose with the other, Draco shook off the fuzziness slowing his motions. He was tired. "I'll take you to Professor Snape later to see whom you belong to," he told the intelligent animal.
Draco brought his other hand down to support the animal as it shifted. "I might as well call you something while you're with me," he mused, walking into his dorm yet again and settling on his bed.
"No, *stay*," Draco said sharply when the ferret appeared ready to bolt. "Don't make me bewitch you so you can't leave me." The ferret stopped dead and weakly settled down. "Good." Draco stretched sensuously, rolling out his hips as he arched his back. The silvery strands of hair swayed loosely in front of his luminous, argent eyes. (Dratted thing wore me out in the bath. I think I'll take a nap. But first...) Getting up, Draco stacked his dirty clothes at their designated area. The House elves would pick them up in the early morning and wash them. He rummaged in his trunk for a while, setting things in order and then sat back on his bed. Tilting back, he sprawled across his sheets. At a small protesting squeak, Draco opened his eyes and gave a slight, self-decrepitating smile. Turning to his side, he reached out and scooped the ferret toward him, hugging it to his chest like a stuffed toy.
"Wraith," Draco murmured. At the sable black's querying look, Draco clarified. "What about Wraith for a name?" Draco examined the blank look on the ferret's face. "Mmm, no then. Perhaps, Hades? Nyx? Kardis?" He ran a hand through thick, blue-black hair and gently stroked the ferret's creamy undercoat. Draco knew he shouldn't bother naming the creature; he was becoming attached to it and no good would come of that. "Ah..." Draco exclaimed quietly, pausing at a flaw in the ferret's coloration. There was a curious aberration of dark grey on the black sable's forehead. "Cain." Draco rolled over, settling the ferret on his chest. "I name you Cain. And I'll know you," he said, "by this Mark on your head." He idly tracked the jagged line of lighter fur. Draco closed his eyes dreamily, lured into a state of half-awareness.
"You know, most people don't realize that everything blurs to me. It's all the same--only with varying degrees of imperfection. When I was little I had problems recognizing my father and mum. They were so perfect. One day, when we were going to a Gathering, they took me aside and bared an arm. They showed me their Mark. 'Look here,' they said. 'If you can't remember our faces, look here for this. This is your family.' I never forgot who they were after that." He opened his eyes to meet Cain's stunned gaze. "And I won't forget you," he said lightly, "As long as you have that Mark. I remember classmates that way too. Even the Gryffindors." Draco gave a short laugh. "I remember Weasley by the pattern of the freckles on his face. Granger from her teeth; after she fixed those--her hair. Potter--amazingly enough--NOT his scar. His glasses. Those ridiculous taped up Muggle glasses. I could never see his eyes and for the longest time I thought he couldn't meet my gaze. Then it was because he thought he was too good for me. Then it was just because he's blind. Poor, blind, orphaned Potter. The Gryffindor hero..." Draco heard his voice trail off.
"...Good night, Cain..." he whispered as he sank into sleep.
Heart kicking against his ribs, Harry inhaled deeply and tried to regain his calm. He slowly wiggled out of Malfoy's grasp and shuffled next to the still form. Cautiously, Harry prodded Malfoy's hand with his nose. The fingers twitched slightly in response, but Malfoy's breathing remained deep and steady.
Convinced that the Slytherin was asleep, Harry turned and dropped off the bed, heading for the door. As enlightening as his misadventure proved to be, if he remained missing any longer, people would start looking for him and the resulting mess would be unpleasant. Darting out the thankfully open door, Harry kept close to the walls and escaped through the Slytherin entrance as a few students entered their common room.
He was not going to look at Malfoy the same way again.
Potter was acting strangely.
Not to say Potter wasn't usually strange, but he was acting more strangely than usual. Any time Draco was not looking at him, he was sure Potter was staring uncomfortably at him. Every time Draco _did_ look at him, Potter would pale, flush, and quickly direct his attention elsewhere. In other words, Potter freaked whenever he caught sight of him.
Draco found it immensely annoying. Still, he said nothing. Nothing, until end of Care of Magical Creatures class, when he finally could not ignore the rudeness of Potter's edginess.
"Potter. If you insist on staring at me, I demand financial remuneration."
"I-- I'm not--"
"I stopped trying to convince myself that after the fifth time I caught you doing so at breakfast."
"Well, it's not what you think--"
"Was that ferret yours?" Draco asked brusquely. He had woken up in the morning to discover the black sable gone. Cain's sudden disappearance had left a strangely empty feeling. "It left on its own, if that's why you're staring at me."
"No. Ah--" Potter shook his head fiercely. A look of frustration-- and was that embarrassment?-- crossed Potter's face. He exhaled sharply and made an exasperated gesture with his hand before jerking his gaze away from Draco. Clearly retreating, Potter turned to leave with the rest of his class. Frowning, Draco caught his sleeve and pulled him back hard. "What is it, Potty?" he persisted, annoyed.
Stumbling, Harry tripped. His glasses dislodged from his elfin face. "Damn. It's nothing, Malfoy! Leave it alone." He bent down to retrieve his errant glasses.
Draco wasn't sure what prompted him to do it, but he also reached down to pick up Potter's glasses--Potter's marked flaw. His hand met Potter's as they touched the metal frame. They froze. Draco's eyes flicked up to Potter's vivid, eerie green gaze. Unconsciously, they shifted to his infamous lightening scar. That jagged line of paler skin...
Potter remained motionless as Draco leaned forward and traced the crooked scar with a pale, slender finger. The imperfection reflected inside him. Draco knew it for what it was.
"...Cain..."
Potter's start confirmed his guilt. Draco stared at him. He looked down and gently drew Potter's glasses from the raven-haired boy's grasp. Unfolding the earpieces, he courteously set the glasses on Potter's nose. Smiling, Draco took a step back. Then he dealt a forceful, vicious slap across Potter's face. Draco's eyes were bits of mirror in his face, revealing nothing.
"You thought it was funny," he said softly, without a trace of doubt. "Just like my name."
Draco left without another word.
That evening, the Great Hall was treated to the astonishing sight of a Gryffindor walking over to the Slytherin table. What made it more curious and outrageous was that the Gryffindor was Harry Potter and the Slytherin he approached was Draco Malfoy.
Harry was determined to explain things to Malfoy even if it killed him. "Malfoy..." he said, stopping beside the blonde's chair. The Slytherin looked at him with half-lidded eyes, cold and irate. "I need--"
Malfoy shoved him back. "Get lost, Gryffindor."
"Malfoy-- it was an accident," Harry said determinedly, stepping closer and ignoring the ache from the pressure of Malfoy's hands against his chest. "I was transfigured and someone just decided to play a prank on you."
Malfoy sneered at him.
Fully contrite, Harry continued with his apology. "I'm sorry, Malfoy," he said sincerely, with a raised voice that carried clearly across the Great Hall.
Across the hall, a furiously red Ron spluttered in outrage and a surprised Hermione was watching them both curiously.
"Even if you don't believe it, I'm sorry." Harry hesitated a second, then dropped his voice to a whisper. "Even though you took some liberties with me," he murmured huskily, flushing darkly. Harry was not quiet enough; he failed to notice the shocked looks crossing the nearby Slytherins' faces.
Malfoy stared at him blankly for a moment before Harry's meaning registered. A pink tinge ran across his face as faint horror glimmered in his silver eyes. "I could say the same for you, Potter," he hissed quietly. "You saw me na--"
"You're the one who dragged me in there," shot back Harry, crimson with embarrassment.
"You looked filthy when I found you, what did you expect me to do?"
"Oh forget it, Malfoy," Harry said in exasperation. He backed up and started to turn. The raven-haired Gryffindor suddenly experienced a bout of deja vu as Malfoy shot out an arm, causing him to nearly lose his balance. The Slytherin tugged on his hold on the front of Harry's robes and forced Harry to lean towards him. Bending forward, Malfoy moved so close to Harry's face that their lips almost brushed.
"Stay," Malfoy breathed in a low purr. He smelled of frost, autumn air, and fragrant roses. A smirk graced his face as a stunned Harry complied. In that same unforgiving, beautifully deadly voice, Malfoy gently asked a quiet question that somehow carried to everyone in the Great Hall.
"Does that mean you're my pet now, Potter?"
*end*