Leaning slightly, he moved enough to let his left eye clear the wall. That
silvery eye peered into the common room, ruthlessly scanning the obstacles.
"Minions, two, at 9 o'clock. Warden, one, 8 o'clock, face away."
Draco Malfoy, Spy. Scratch that, Super Spy, was ready for action.
"Target, Common Room Door, located. Cover, located."
No one could catch him, he was the wind! They'd never know what hit them!
Nevermind that he whispered loud enough to rile Professor Binns. They were arguing too loudly anyways, and from what Draco's left eye could see, Crabbe appeared to be beating everything within a three foot radius with his wand.
This show of violence did not phase him, and to prove it he slide from his hideout, taking the stairs two by two with his padded feet. Three seconds and he was down, pressing himself inconspicuously against the middle of a gray wall.
He waited for the opportune moment, eyes traveling his intended path to the door, to freedom!
"VISUALIZE THE DAMN SQUIRREL!"
Now was his chance! Eyes now focused solely on the door, he dashed from hiding. Dodging a couch, he was nearly halfway there!
He never even saw the light that hit him.
Suddenly his view of the door disappeared, leaving only a thick black.
"I'm blind!!"
The wail tore through him without a thought, but what came out of his mouth was decidedly not English. Or any of the other languages Draco had been taught.
So he had suddenly spouted out a language previously unknown to him? Okay. That was relatively easy to accept. He'd been horribly upset about not being a parseltongue, after all. It didn't help that he had found this out in a very. . . unfortunate incident.
"So black mambas don't like being tossed. It's not my fault the thing decided to sleep in my suitcase."
As he spoke he listened to the noises coming from his mouth. Definently not the sibilant quality of Parseltongue. It sounded more . . . jittery. Odd.
Pondering his linguistic achievements, Draco began to work his way out of the cloth he seemed to be wrapped in. When his vision became grey rather than black he assumed he was digging in the right direction. With a final thrust, his world once again became technicolor.
Just in time for him to see the giant form of Goyle rushing towards him.
Without a coherent thought in his head Draco turned to the boys dormitory staircase, not processing that it too was as giant to him as his friend was.
Animal instinct took over and Draco leapt to the stairs, his safety!
Mid-flight he realized how fast he was moving, and began calculating impact.
He shut his eyes and held his hands out in front of him. At impact he scrambled around, trying to keep from slipping, but failing miserably. Then the world went black once again.
******
When he came too, Draco was too confused and dazed to do much more than stare.
Three behemoth faces hovered over him, two very close, the other a bit farther off.
"That is not a squirrel." The farther one boomed, Draco noticed the creature's striking resemblence to an overblown Blaise.
Then he noticed the other two mammoths looked exactly like Crabbe and Goyle. From a bad angle. There was a moment where Draco did nothing but stare at a hunk of . . . balogne? He tilted his head slightly. Yes, that was indeed a hunk of balogne that was stuck to the underside of Goyle's neck. Draco meditated on this for a moment.
"Then what is it?"
"How the hell should I know. Some mutant squirrel creature spawned only in your imagination. Knowing you, it's probably made of cake."
Every fiber in Draco's being filled with an immense, passionate hatred for Blaise in that moment. And this feeling multiplied when Goyle raised the hand Draco was resting in closer towards his mouth.
"I was kidding!" Goyle, looking admonished, ceased his attempt to eat his friend.
Had Draco been able to use English at that moment, he would have embarrassed himself with professions of love for Blaise. And possibly also the recommendation of a breath mint to Goyle.
As it was, he settled for his intellectual squeak.
"Enough of this, you two have to get to Transfigurations now."
"What do we do with that?" Crabbe shifted some of his bulk toward the furry creature in Goyle's hand.
"I don't care, take it with you. If nothing else you can throw it at somebody."
Throw him at somebody? Draco decidedly did not like this idea.
The hand he was in closed around his body . . . and he realized, finally, that he was not a minature Draco.
Looking down, he was unsure exactly what he was.
******
A.N. I know this chapter was short, but. . . the next one will be out soon, and this was a good place to stop. I'm writing this as I go, with only the most vague of plot points mapped out, and I'm debating something. Should I have this happening at the end of the year, so Draco gets stuck in his rodent body for a summer with someone (harry, *hint hint*), or should it run during the school year and involve all those canon characters we know and love?
If you've got a leaning either way tell me, cause otherwise I may have to resort to the ever-useful coin toss.
"Minions, two, at 9 o'clock. Warden, one, 8 o'clock, face away."
Draco Malfoy, Spy. Scratch that, Super Spy, was ready for action.
"Target, Common Room Door, located. Cover, located."
No one could catch him, he was the wind! They'd never know what hit them!
Nevermind that he whispered loud enough to rile Professor Binns. They were arguing too loudly anyways, and from what Draco's left eye could see, Crabbe appeared to be beating everything within a three foot radius with his wand.
This show of violence did not phase him, and to prove it he slide from his hideout, taking the stairs two by two with his padded feet. Three seconds and he was down, pressing himself inconspicuously against the middle of a gray wall.
He waited for the opportune moment, eyes traveling his intended path to the door, to freedom!
"VISUALIZE THE DAMN SQUIRREL!"
Now was his chance! Eyes now focused solely on the door, he dashed from hiding. Dodging a couch, he was nearly halfway there!
He never even saw the light that hit him.
Suddenly his view of the door disappeared, leaving only a thick black.
"I'm blind!!"
The wail tore through him without a thought, but what came out of his mouth was decidedly not English. Or any of the other languages Draco had been taught.
So he had suddenly spouted out a language previously unknown to him? Okay. That was relatively easy to accept. He'd been horribly upset about not being a parseltongue, after all. It didn't help that he had found this out in a very. . . unfortunate incident.
"So black mambas don't like being tossed. It's not my fault the thing decided to sleep in my suitcase."
As he spoke he listened to the noises coming from his mouth. Definently not the sibilant quality of Parseltongue. It sounded more . . . jittery. Odd.
Pondering his linguistic achievements, Draco began to work his way out of the cloth he seemed to be wrapped in. When his vision became grey rather than black he assumed he was digging in the right direction. With a final thrust, his world once again became technicolor.
Just in time for him to see the giant form of Goyle rushing towards him.
Without a coherent thought in his head Draco turned to the boys dormitory staircase, not processing that it too was as giant to him as his friend was.
Animal instinct took over and Draco leapt to the stairs, his safety!
Mid-flight he realized how fast he was moving, and began calculating impact.
He shut his eyes and held his hands out in front of him. At impact he scrambled around, trying to keep from slipping, but failing miserably. Then the world went black once again.
******
When he came too, Draco was too confused and dazed to do much more than stare.
Three behemoth faces hovered over him, two very close, the other a bit farther off.
"That is not a squirrel." The farther one boomed, Draco noticed the creature's striking resemblence to an overblown Blaise.
Then he noticed the other two mammoths looked exactly like Crabbe and Goyle. From a bad angle. There was a moment where Draco did nothing but stare at a hunk of . . . balogne? He tilted his head slightly. Yes, that was indeed a hunk of balogne that was stuck to the underside of Goyle's neck. Draco meditated on this for a moment.
"Then what is it?"
"How the hell should I know. Some mutant squirrel creature spawned only in your imagination. Knowing you, it's probably made of cake."
Every fiber in Draco's being filled with an immense, passionate hatred for Blaise in that moment. And this feeling multiplied when Goyle raised the hand Draco was resting in closer towards his mouth.
"I was kidding!" Goyle, looking admonished, ceased his attempt to eat his friend.
Had Draco been able to use English at that moment, he would have embarrassed himself with professions of love for Blaise. And possibly also the recommendation of a breath mint to Goyle.
As it was, he settled for his intellectual squeak.
"Enough of this, you two have to get to Transfigurations now."
"What do we do with that?" Crabbe shifted some of his bulk toward the furry creature in Goyle's hand.
"I don't care, take it with you. If nothing else you can throw it at somebody."
Throw him at somebody? Draco decidedly did not like this idea.
The hand he was in closed around his body . . . and he realized, finally, that he was not a minature Draco.
Looking down, he was unsure exactly what he was.
******
A.N. I know this chapter was short, but. . . the next one will be out soon, and this was a good place to stop. I'm writing this as I go, with only the most vague of plot points mapped out, and I'm debating something. Should I have this happening at the end of the year, so Draco gets stuck in his rodent body for a summer with someone (harry, *hint hint*), or should it run during the school year and involve all those canon characters we know and love?
If you've got a leaning either way tell me, cause otherwise I may have to resort to the ever-useful coin toss.