Disclaimer: Not mine, and you know it.

Draco paced anxiously, thinking. His girlfriend was a cat. He was so gonna pay for this... Okay, that would be fine if she were here. But she wasn't, and the pet shelter didn't have the address of the family who had adopted her. Maybe it was time for desperate measures. And Draco only knew one person who coud do a Tracking Spell...

---

Draco's index finger hovered over the doorbell next to the gleaming white door. He took a deep breath and moved it forwards. Somehow, his finger ended up further from the bell. He attempted again, and this time managed to push the small, round, ivory button. A loud knocking noise sounded, which startled Draco. It had definitely been a bell noise before, he was sure of it. Probably one of the twins' weird inventions.

Just before the door opened, Draco's feet were urging him to run, but he forced himself to stay, at least until the occupant of Number 27 slammed the door in his face.

"Oh, hey Draco. What's up?"

Harry Potter stood in the doorway, eating a cookie. Draco nearly sighed with relief.

"Oh good, it's you. Hi Harry."

"Why is it so great that I answered the door?"

"If it was Ron, he'd probably have slammed the door in my face," Draco told him.

"Well, he has reason to. You did accidentally nullify his NEWT results."

"I know."

"And you did accidentally break his leg."

"I know."

"And you are dating his little sister."

"I know. Ginny's actually the reason I came. Can I come in?"

"Sure." Harry stepped aside and let Draco past, then shut the door after him.

"I need to ask Hermione a favour," he told Harry."

"Dunno how she'll feel about that," Harry said, shaking his head. "You did accidentally singe all her hair off."

"I know."

"And you did accidentally cut her cat's tail in two."

"I know."

"And you are dating her husband's little sister."

"You covered that one already."

"I know." Harry took another bite of his cookie.

"Harry?" Hermione called from the kitchen. "Who's at the door?"

"Just Draco," he replied offhandedly.

The bustling sound from the kitchen stopped abruptly, and a chair was pushed back loudly. A ginger-haired, bowlegged cat with a squashed face stalked into the hall, took one look at Draco, hissed loudly, and fled from the room with half a bottle-brush tail held high.

Ron Weasley came into the hall with a face like thunder.

"What did I tell you, Malfoy? You are not welcome in this house."

"Hey Draco, you wanna cookie?"

"Harry!" Ron whined. "I'm trying to make him leave! You're not helping."

Harry shrugged and went to get another cookie.

"Ron. Hi... I would've asked for this in the fire, but I figured you would have just put out the fire. Plus, I'm out of Floo Powder, can't do the head trick." Ron tapped his foot impatiently. "Point, right, yes. I have a point. It's about Ginny."

"What about Ginny?" Ron's voice sounded dangerous now.

"Well, she's a cat." He looked at Draco as if to say 'so what? turn her back'. "And I didn't know it was her so I gave her to the pet shelter and someone adopted her and now I don't know where she is." Ron bristled angrily. "So I need Hermione to do a Tracking Spell so I can find her and turn her back."

"Let me get this straight. You gave away ... my little sister?"

"Yes. Please don't hurt me. I came un-armed."

"No you didn't," Harry said, munching on another cookie. "You had to use your wand to apparate here."

"Well," Draco said, taking out his wand and handing it to Harry, "I don't have it now."

"Hey, 'Mione? I think I may have picked up the wrong cookie." Harry's nose was bleeding, and he put Draco's wand down on a table so it didn't get covered in blood. Hermione walked briskly into the hallway, with a tissue and a sour expression.

"Yes, George said there was a risk of them getting muddled up," she fussed, wiping blood off Harry's chin with the tissue and handing him the antidote cookie. "You probably got the one with bits of Nosebleed Nougat in it."

"Hermione, I think I can wipe my own nose, thankyou very much."

Hermione gave Harry the tissue for him to mop up the blood with, then looked over to the door.

"Draco," she said with forced civility.

"Hey ... Hermione. Hey, how are you on your Tracking Spells? I bet you're still the best in the class."

"Only because the rest of the class couldn't do it. And flattery on my spellwork will get you nowhere."

"Your hair looks great too, have you been using -"

"Neither will it work on my hair," she retorted. She looked like Madam Hooch, with her hair all short, ruffled and sticky-up. "Why do you need a Tracking Spell, anyway?"

"Ginny's a cat, he gave her away, she got adopted and now he can't find her," Ron said with an accusing look at Draco, before leaving the hall.

Hermione gave him a similar look, shook her head and sighed.

"Honestly."

---

"So how did you work out that the cat was Ginny?" Hermione asked, arms folded in an unconsciously hostile manner.

"She wasn't in her room, I hadn't heard her leave, the bed had definitely been slept in by something smaller than Ginny, and there were cat hairs on the bedcovers and the floor. Red ones."

"Right. Well, that's the logical conclusion." Hermione thought for a minute, her head in her hands.

Harry offered the plate of cookies to Draco, who shook his head with a fond smile. He still could hardly believe how much they had both changed since school. It was years ago now, they were all in their twenties, and Harry still wasn't the same. Draco was glad that it wasn't this change that had brought about their unlikely friendship. Harry and he had been friends since before that happened. Not long before, but still before.

Near the end of their seventh year, You-Know-Who had attacked the school, and had been defeated by the Potter Squad, which Draco had taken to calling them in sixth year, but had since stopped. Unfortunately, in the course of events, Harry had been hit with the Cruciatus curse so many times that his mind had become a little addled. Not as much as Longbottom's parents had been, but enough to alter his personality slightly. He was prone to giggling fits at random and often inappropriate moments, and his mind tended to wander. He behaved like a child in a grown-up's body, to the extent that he couldn't really live on his own. He was still Harry, the same Harry everyone knew and loved, but he was a little strange sometimes. At least he had kept his sense of humour.

Actually, the main reason he was never unhappy was that most of his memories from before the battle were gone. He couldn't remember Sirius, or his parents. All the unhappy memories were gone. Otherwise, he had a similar personality, just much cheerier, but all unpleasant memories were gone. He managed to retain memories of his friendships, because they were so important to him, and luckily, he had also kept the memories of the cease-fire between himself and Draco.

Their friendship had sprung up as a result of Draco's actions, and he wasn't ashamed to admit it. If he didn't explain that it was due to him, everyone who knew them assumed that Harry had decided to put differences aside and fight the good fight together. No, it had been Draco. Nobody ever suspected it, and most didn't even believe it.

Draco had attended a meeting of Dumbledore's Army.

Not in disguise, not trying to spy for Professor Snape; he attended to see what they were doing, why they were doing it, and to see if he could join.

The absence of a Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher in their last year prompted him to attend, to keep his defence spellwork up to scratch. Crabbe and Goyle, whom he no longer associated with (he had only used them as henchmen, bodyguards if you will, and now that his friends had brains bigger than tangerines, he had no further need for them), were useless at spells, even though their fathers were Deatheaters, so they were no good.

Speaking of Deatheater fathers, Draco's father had been killed in the battle, and to tell the truth, Draco didn't care.

To get back to the point, Harry had listened to his sincere request to join and thought about it. He had eventually believed that Draco wanted an end to the bitching between Harry, and let him into Dumbledore's Army. The absence of large purple spots spelling 'sneak' on Draco's face convinced Harry of his sincerity, and they had been uneasy allies up until the battle, when Draco had blocked a killing curse aimed at Longbottom, and saved his life. He hadn't blocked it specifically to save Longbottom, but to save whoever it might have hit if it had been allowed to continue on its course. He hadn't actually seen the boy behind him when he blocked it. Either way, he and Harry had become friends because of this.

Ron and Hermione, however, had different views. Exam results, leg bones, hair, cat tails; they all played a part in the happy couple's general dislike, distaste and distrust of him. They had married two years ago and he had not been invited. Not that he had wanted to go, of course. They did appreciate what he did for Longbottom, but they still didn't like him. Some of the time they didn't like him because of the past, which Draco thought they might at least have forgiven him for by now, but most of the time they didn't like him because of Ginny.

They had started dating after school, not long after Harry had explained to her the reason that Longbottom wasn't dead. Maybe a week or so after, Draco wasn't sure. He had missed her a lot when she was in her seventh year, but as soon as she finished school, they started going out seriously. He had liked her since about fourth year, he was sure about that, but he had never been able to ask her out because of all the brothers she had who would have loved to have an excuse to break his nose. Plus there was the fact that he was certain she hated him from the word go. It turned out that he was wrong. Ginny had only hated his reputation, and therefore had never talked to him except to reply to an insult. Her attitude had changed in the aftermath of the battle, though, due to his good deed.

Draco was very pleased that he had decided to be on the good side, as it meant he didn't have to think up new insults all the time, and he was able to get along with one of the most influential people in the Ministry (now under new management). Even though Harry could seem immature to an onlooker, he still retained his intelligence and talents, and could debate a subject as well as any other Ministry worker, which he did, frequently, and was often funnier than most of the stuffy old guys with whom he debated.

Also, being on the good side enabled him to say Ginny was hot without being hexed (most of the time). That was another good point. Ginny had blossomed from her awkward skinny teenage self into a beautiful young woman. Draco often had to pinch himself just to make sure he wasn't dreaming, that she really was living with him, that they really were going out. And to think he had grown out of the habit of telling her everyday, letting her know how much she meant to him, just appreciating her presence in his life.

Now she was a cat, and he was worried sick. How could he not have recognised her? She was going to be so mad at him when he found her...

"If you have something of hers that she had shortly before she was changed into a cat, I should be able to do a Tracking Spell to find her," said Hermione, lifting her head from her hands, looking stressed already.

"Yeah, her pyjamas were still in the bed when I went up to look for her."

Ron's face had tightened at the mention of Draco and Ginny living together, something he had been against from the very beginning.

"Do you know how she was turned into a cat? It would make more sense to get both spells worked out before we find her, so we can change her back as soon as possible."

"I have no idea. She hasn't been studying to become an Animagus, and even if she had she would have turned back to herself when I mistook her for an actual cat. It seems she just woke up as a cat and came down the stairs to find me."

Ron was still gritting his teeth, holding back on voicing his disapproval.

"Did you go anywhere the night before?" Hermione asked.

"We went to a club, had a few drinks, that was about it."

"What was it called?"

"Um, something French ... D'Oblique."

"There's your problem, then. Did you read this morning's paper? There have been several reports of people waking up as animals, and they all went to the same club the night before, D'Oblique. The reporter reckons there's either something in the water there, or someone went round spiking drinks for a laugh. That's most likely what happened to Ginny."

"Idiot," Ron muttered.

"Hey, it wasn't my fault!" Draco retorted.

"Why weren't you watching her drink? That's what you're supposed to do! You are her - her boyfriend -" He spat the word out as if it were a particularly foul-tasting EveryFlavour Bean, "- after all! You're meant to take care of her! You promised me, Malfoy!" He ended on a raised note, almost shouting.

Draco didn't say anything. He had promised. He examined one nail, normally near-perfect, today chewed down from worry. He felt really stupid. He had promised the Weasleys that he would take care of Ginny, and what had he done? Lost her. Worse than that, he'd given her away!

"Draco?" Harry said after a minute.

Draco looked up. "Yeah?"

"We'll find her."

Draco smiled gratefully.