Disclaimer: Whilst the ideas are mine, the characters and places belong to J.K. Rowling.
By the time Ginny was finished the "small list" had filled two pieces of parchment.
"Is all this really necessary?" Draco asked.
"Absolutely. And if you could get my toothbrush too, that'd be wonderful." Ginny closed her
eyes for a moment, trying to see if she'd forgotten anything. "Dear Lord! I'd almost forgotten about Minnie! Here!" She scribbled something on the end of the list. "Show this to the cat. If she walks off, leave her. Otherwise you'll need to get her things, too. The cat treats are in the yogurt container on top of the refrigerator. Bring them, but don't let her have any, no matter how much she begs."
"There's a cat?" Draco whined.
"If I'm staying the cat needs to be taken care of," Ginny said coolly.
"Fine," Draco pouted.
"Thank you." Ginny smiled at him, and he knew he'd jump off a bridge if she asked it of him. He glanced in the mirror before stepping into the fireplace.
"Perfect as usual, dear," simpered the mirror.
"Don't I wish," he muttered back.
"Ginny? Is that you?" A voice came from the other room.
"Shit!" Draco cursed. "She didn't say anyone would be here."
A tabby cat wandered into the room. "I was wondering where..." The cat trailed off. "Mr. Malfoy. How horribly disappointing."
The cat was talking. Why was the cat talking?
"Why are you talking?"
"Hermione equipped me with a neat little translation spell. Why are you here?" The cats eyes narrowed.
"I'm here to pick up some of Ginny's things," Draco said.
"Have you any proof?" The cat asked dubiously.
Draco showed the cat the note and tapped his foot impatiently as it read. It certainly took its dear sweet time.
"Follow me," the cat said finally. It was evidently satisfied. He followed it into Ginny's bedroom. It was rather small, but very much Ginny. There were stuffed animals on the soft blue comforter, and pictures of her family on the dresser.
"I will read the list, you will pack things in that trunk over there," it motioned with a paw.
"Are all talking cats this overbearing?"
"Are all students of Slytherin this daft?" The cat replied acidly. "I have been waiting years to be able to say that. I digress. You'd think you could have discovered my 'secret identity' as it were. I only transformed in front of your class around six thousand times."
"McGonagall?" Draco asked bewilderedly.
"Got it in one," the cat answered. "Horrible incident with the Death Eaters and all that. Can we get back to the problem at hand?"
"Umm... sure."
"Right then."
Everything went pretty smoothly until the cat...er... McGonagall called out.
"Knickers."
"What?" Draco asked. "She doesn't honestly expect me to go rooting about in that drawer... You do it."
"Unfortunately one of the drawbacks of this whole 'stuck as a cat' business it the complete and total lack of opposable thumbs." She was smirking at him. "Now get on with it."
"But..."
The cat wasn't listening to his protestations, just watching in amusement as he avoided the top dresser drawer like it was the black plague.
"She likes the ones with the little purple hearts," McGonagall advised.
After an excruciating five minutes of knicker examination with the cat, it was on to pajamas. Luckily these were more sedate. Most of them looked like little satin long sleeved shirt and pant sets.
Finally all Ginny's things were packed in the trunk. It was almost overfilled, but the cat assured him it wasn't much at all, he was just inadequate when it came to packing correctly.
"Now for my things," McGonagall ordered. "My pillow can be put in the bottom of the carrier. I shall ride in the carrier. There's a small compartment in the top, put the brush there. You'll have to carry the food separately. I suspect you have bowls, Mr. Malfoy?"
"Yes," he answered. "You're coming then?"
"Of course. I wouldn't miss this for the world."
"What exactly won't you miss?"
"You wooing Ginny, of course," she said smugly. "It's no use lying. You're smitten with her, or you wouldn't be here."
"I am not smitten!" Draco countered hotly.
"There is a name for people in your state, Mr. Malfoy, and that name is 'smitten kitten.'"
He rolled his eyes.
"May I have a treat?"
"That was a bit random."
"I'm a cat, it's our way," she explained. "Treat? I know she's told you where they are."
"I'll get them, but she said you weren't to have one."
"Oh well," the cat sighed audibly. "I'll get in the carrier then, shall I?"
McGonagall settled herself in her carrying case as Draco retrieved the treats. He was just about to step into the fireplace, juggling everything when McGonagall spoke from her cage.
"If you break her heart I'll vomit in your shoes, every last pair."
"If I break her heart I'll do it myself," he replied soberly.
"Good," she replied, satisfied. "Another thing..."
"No you may not have a treat."
McGonagall pouted as he stepped into the fireplace.