My Ferret 3

Author's Note: Yes, I love ending chapters with cliffhangers. Guess you'll have to live with it. Thanks for all the GREAT reviews! Oh, by the way: I'm saying that boy you see with Draco in some scenes of the movie "PoA" is Blaise Zambini (sp?). The credits just say "Slytherin boy" but I'm guessing it's meant to be Blaise. So in this fic that boy will be Blaise, OK?

"What would you do if you were in Gryffindor and in love with a Slytherin?"

/A Slytherin! What do you mean you're in love with a Slytherin!./

Shock crashed over Draco like a huge ocean wave and just as cold. He tried to wrap his mind around the basic idea of what she had just said, but he couldn't. It made no sense! Granger was the Princess of Gryffindor. She was the perfect student or that's what Dumbledore thought anyway. She got perfect grades, obeyed all the school rules – except when she was running around with Potter – and even helped save ferrets from mean redheads. The idea that she of all people had feelings for someone in his house, well, it was just crazy! Slytherins were the exact opposite of her! They were sly when she was honest, they were greasy while she was clean, and they'd steal her last galleon while she'd happily donate it to charity. They'd cheat her at every chance and she'd foolishly believe them!

It was a disaster of epic proportions!

Draco closed his tiny ferret eyes and moaned within his head. He could just see it now. Granger would be staring dreamy-eyed at whomever and they'd be planning on how to disgrace her in front of the entire school! They'd ruin her reputation and snicker behind her back, say it was what she deserved for being in Gryffindor! Then she'd be humiliated. She'd go run off to cry uselessly in the bathroom; as if that would help. Worse, now that she'd broken up with Potter and Weasley, she'd have no one to support her through the crisis. She'd be miserable all by herself.

/She doesn't deserve that…/

No, whether he wanted to admit it or not, Granger wasn't really all that bad. Hadn't she just saved his life today? Not only that, but she hadn't gotten angry when she had caught him eating from her plate. If it had been his mother, she'd have had a fit. But Granger was apparently easy-going when she wasn't at school. And hadn't she been the one to tell that giant oaf to take him to the hospital Third Year after that thing had attacked him? A shiver of fear passed through his long body as he remembered the awful monster from Care of Magical Creatures. What had it been called, a hippogriff? The thing is, he owed her now and he needed a way to pay her back.

/Maybe I could try to help her out…/

He felt Hermoine put him back down onto her chest and he felt her hand stroking his back again. The sensation felt really good and he closed his eyes in pleasure. Truthfully, this was the first time he'd ever been this close to a girl and it was a bit hard to not get sidetracked, especially with her hand running down his back that way. Her own unique scent filled his nose; a mix of her own personal scent and soap.

/At least it's better than that horrid perfume Pansy wears…/

That stuff always gave him a banging headache, the fumes too strong. The girl obviously believed she had to soak herself in the stuff or it seemed that way to his nose. More than once he had seen a few First Years almost faint after she had walked past them in the corridor. Perfume isn't used that way. One was supposed to use just a little, generally at the pulse points. But some girls thought more was better or else they used some horrid cheap stuff. He knew for a fact his mother would be horrified by Pansy's perfume, Pureblood or not. It was just wrong.

/But who…?./

Draco pondered what Slytherin could have caught Granger's eye and couldn't possibly imagine. Everyone knew he was the best looking guy in the whole school, but she couldn't possibly like him. No way! Not after the horrendous way he kept treating her…

/So it must be someone else…/

But who? That was the question. He knew it couldn't be Crabbe or Goyle. No girl in their right minds would date those two slobs. There was Zambini but he wasn't too sure about him. Once in a while Draco talked to Blaise but not all that often. Sometimes the boy followed him around, like that day in Third Year when Granger had socked him in the face. Now that had really stung. It had damaged his pride more than his face and he had loudly vowed to get his revenge on her, not that he ever did. But why didn't he? He certainly had plenty of opportunities. He could have hexed her or something. It would have been all too easy, really. So why didn't he? He pondered that question for a time and finally gave up. Sometimes it seemed his own actions or lack of them was a total mystery even to him. Unless…

/Maybe I was secretly relieved that she had punched me…/

Yeah, that could be it. He had talked bravely about watching the execution to the other boys but did he really want to see such a thing? There had been a little bit of doubt way in the back of his mind that day, but he had shoved it aside. He wanted to be brave and strong like his father. But his father was an adult and he had only been thirteen. He had never seen anything killed before and well, he had secretly been a bit nervous about it all. But he had covered his nervousness with brave talk, creating some wild idea of tossing the creature's head into the Gryffindor Common Room. He didn't even know where their common room was. Not that it mattered. The thing is, the plan hid his true feelings from his two companions and that was all that mattered. And then Granger had showed up and had given him the perfect excuse to flee. Relieved, he did so.

/So maybe I owe Granger for that, too…/

Great, just great! And he still had no idea who the lucky Slytherin was…

000

Hermoine thought about what she had just admitted. It was official now. She liked a boy and he was in Slytherin. Of course, admitting it to her classmates would be a different thing. Her sad brown eyes dropped to the ferret resting on her chest, its little eyes like liquid silver. It reminded her of Draco so much, but that was just in her head. It returned her gaze and oddly enough, didn't glance away like Crookshanks generally did. Most animals, if you looked into their eyes long enough, would look away from you; uncomfortable. The ferret, however, didn't. It just kept gazing at her coolly with its silvery gray eyes and she found herself shifting her gaze off it.

/Great, I just lost a staring match with a ferret!./

If she couldn't handle a ferret, how was she ever to deal with Draco? She'd never find the courage to tell him the truth! She may be brave, yes, but that bravery was dealing with monsters and battles. This was something far worst. She would have to confess her feelings to her almost enemy. What if he thought it was funny? What if he laughed in her face? How could she ever take that kind of rejection? And her housemates, they'd hate her! They'd say she was consorting with the enemy or some such nonsense. She could see it all too easily.

"They're all such close-minded idiots!" Hermoine huffed, annoyed. She stroked the ferret's back with her hand. "You're lucky you're just a little ferret and don't have to deal with these problems. My own housemates will probably disown me if I ever let the truth out. I mean, how do you tell people these things? They'll say he's the enemy; I know they will. None of them ever listen to the Sorting Hat. The school is supposed to be one unit, not four houses divided! I tried to tell Harry and Ron that numerous times and do they ever listen? Noooo! They'd rather go around pounding on people because it makes them feel better!"

Still, she had a choice.

Sighing, Hermoine crawled out of bed, the ferret in her arms. Slowly she walked to the antique dresser and stared at herself in the round vanity mirror. She saw a plain girl with brown eyes and bushy brown hair; nothing special. Glancing down at the ferret, she scratched his tiny head. "Do you think I look like a hero? Because I don't think I do. Yet if I don't do something, then time will slip by and nothing will change. Well, that's not exactly right. They will change but for the worst. He'll probably become a Death Eater, like his father…"

000

/A Death Eater?./

Draco's little mouth gaped open in shock, his tiny sharp teeth visible. This was getting worst and worst! Not only was Granger in love with a Slytherin, but with a Death Eater's son as well! And all the Death Eaters were Purebloods from old families…

/Well, that certainly leaves Zambini out…/

Zambini's father wasn't a Death Eater, although he was a Pureblood. In fact, that left out a lot of people and narrowed the choices. So whom did that leave? Crabbe and Goyle? A quick feeling of disgust swept through him of the thought of Granger being in love with one of those two idiots.

/Please, no! Anyone but them…/

Still, he could control those two and that was something. He could at least order them to treat her decently…

But a Pureblood and a Mudblood? Would that even work? Maybe within other families it would, but the old Pureblood families were highly concerned with pedigree. One just didn't associate with those of lesser blood. It just wasn't done! Going that route would just lead to heartache and a lot of trouble. Granger was smart. Heck, she received better grades than he did! Why couldn't she see that? She was just begging for trouble! If he were human, he'd tell her that and not in a mean way, either. It was clear Granger was trying to change things by herself. She thought she could single-handed alter things that had been done a certain way for thousands of years. It just didn't work that way. Hadn't SPEW taught her that? She'd gotten nowhere with it. The Pureblooded families would be just as stubborn.

/Lucky it isn't me. Father would have a fit…/

He knew all too well how his father would react. Lucius would be furious if he ever tried to date a Mudblood. He would call it a scandal. And he would glare at him with those cold eyes and tell him to stop. No, order him to stop or else he'd take care of it himself. His parents were too set in their ways to ever change. Only some major event would do that and he just couldn't imagine such an event. So if Granger really thought she could ever win the heart of a Pureblooded Slytherin from a Death Eater family, well, she'd be taking on one heck of a challenge!

/Granger, you're doomed! Best you crawl back into your little tower and never come out…/

000

"But he's not cut out to be a Death Eater. I just know he isn't." Hermoine said as she placed the ferret down on the dresser top, scooping the pile of old books onto a nearby chair. She leaned forward and stared at herself in the mirror. Like the dresser, the mirror had a dark wooden frame, a pair of oblong wooden knobs on each side. She wasn't sure what the two knobs were for, but as a child she had hung things from them. Now they were just there, unused. A triangular base connected the mirror to the dresser, its sides smooth and curved. As she gazed at her own chocolate eyes in the mirror, she saw a lot of things in them; mainly doubt and fear. She doubted herself and her ability to do this thing, even if she knew it was the right thing to do. And she feared the school's reaction.

She had seen the very same emotions in Draco's eyes more than once. It wasn't often that he dropped the arrogant mask that he wore but once in a while he did. And it was those moments that the real Draco shone through. At first it had surprised her. She had taken his act to be the real him those first few years of school. She had really thought him to be the arrogant, annoying git that he was pretending to be, rich and spoiled.

But he wasn't.

Inside he was scared and unsure of himself. That's why he traveled everywhere with Crabbe and Goyle. They were his bodyguards, just in case something happened. But when he really needed them Hermoine noted, they didn't do very much. More often than not they let Harry beat him up and didn't interfere. No one thought he was worth saving, apparently not even Crabbe or Goyle.

/But I do…/

Yes, she did, but if she let his father bully him into becoming a Death Eater…

"It'll destroy him…" Hermoine whispered, her big brown eyes staring back at her sadly. The sad truth was that no one else at Hogwarts really cared about Draco's fate. They all just presumed he was evil, would become a Death Eater and that was that. No one was brave enough to interfere, to try and save him. "I can't let them destroy him!"

000

/Oh, so you want to be noble, too? How very Gryffindor…/

Draco crawled about on the dresser top, his little claws clinking softly. The wood under his paws was incredibly old, yet smooth and polished. It had the dark stain that he was familiar with. The manor was filled with the stuff and he was surprised to see something so well known to a Pureblood such as himself in her room. Granger was just filled with surprises and he idly wondered what else he might find out.

Yet the term Death Eater had made him a bit uneasy. He wasn't really sure if he wanted to become one or if he had what it took to be one. Because when it came right down to it, he was a coward. Hogwarts had given him numerous chances to test himself against different adversaries and each time he had run away.

/Even against those stupid pixies!./

How was he supposed to be a Death Eater and face people in battle if he couldn't even face a pixie? Over the years he had put the issue off, telling himself he had lots of time. But now most of that time was gone and his future was looming before him larger than ever. What could he do? His father would probably expect it of him, although he hadn't said so yet. Still, it hung there in the air between them, unspoken. Voldemort would expect him to take the mark on his arm, to take up the cloak and mask. What he himself wanted wasn't important. He was just expected to do the right thing, to do what was required and expected of him.

Somehow it didn't exactly seem right…

And now Granger wanted to save one of his fellows, as hopeless as it was.

/If only she wanted to save me…/

But was he worth saving? Draco had his doubts. He hadn't exactly been an angel and had done his fair share of school mischief. Still, it would be nice if someone thought he was worth saving.

/At least I wouldn't have to run around and kill people../

No, Draco shuddered as he imagined aiming his wand at some helpless Muggle. He wasn't capable of killing, no matter what Potter or Weasley thought of him. But whom was he kidding? Granger couldn't possibly be in love with him! What were the odds of that? Still, who else could it be? Crabbe or Goyle? They were just as unlikely. Granger deserved a nice guy, someone who she could trust and someone who would look out for her, take care of her. But guys like that were rare no matter what house you looked in. Everyone had flaws, sure, but he just couldn't see why she would love a Slytherin…

Glancing up, he had a good view of her chin, neck and chest as she bent over him to peer in the mirror.

/Well, I guess Granger did fill out a bit after all…/

000

A determined look filled her chocolate brown eyes and Hermoine pulled back from the mirror. "If no one else will save him, then I will!"

The problem is, she didn't know how to do this miracle. Talking to him would probably get her nowhere. The first thing she needed to do was to get his attention and change his opinion of her. He needed to see that she was more than just a bookworm or Harry Potter's friend. And she was more than a Muggle-born, too. She was an individual with feelings, wants and desires. And so if she just happened to be a girl?

A steely gaze in her eyes, she released a puff of air and gripped the metal handles of the top dresser draw with both hands. The handles were gently curved with a round design in the center. Pulling, the old drawer slowly squeaked open. Reaching in way to the back, she dug around for a moment ignoring the neat piles of undergarments. Her fingers encountered a small cardboard container and she pulled it out, placing it on the dresser top. It was round and stood about three inches tall, the top and bottom flat. The colors were faded but still visible, the background a pale blue. The cover showed the inky black silhouette of a curvy female figure walking a poodle dog on a leash, the Ifle Tower in the background. White curved words read 'Spring in Paris'. It was one of her great-grandmother's powder puff boxes.

Breathing steadily, Hermoine gazed down at it. It was one of the only bits of real make-up she owned and she had just saved it for the artwork on the outside of the container. That and she liked old-fashioned stuff, secretly, of course. But it appeared if she wanted to save Draco, she would have to do the supreme sacrifice.

She might actually have to WEAR the stuff.

000

Curious as to what Granger had pulled out of the drawer, Draco padded over to it. Peering at it, he realized it was an extremely old container of lady's face powder.

/Oh, great! Don't tell me you're depending on this stuff?./

Poking his pointed nose at the ancient box, he sniffed. His long white whiskers quivered and his pink nose wiggled. Surprised, he pulled back. The stuff actually had a nice smell! In fact, it smelled way better than whatever Pansy wore. If he were human, one of his dark brows would have raised but as he was a ferret the affect was lost amid the white fur. In fact, the more he sniffed at it, the more familiar it smelled…

/Now why the heck would this old Muggle stuff smell familiar to me?./

And then it hit him.

/Mother wears this stuff…./

And it was expensive, too. While Muggles had advanced forward with things, wizards had stayed the same. The same was true of make-up. The old Pureblood families preferred what Muggles would call 'old-fashioned' products, products that weren't even available in the Muggle world anymore. But back in the old days, Parisian make-up had been all the rage. The wizard family that had made it had sold it to both wizards and Muggles alike. They had gotten wealthy that way; mostly off the millions of Muggles that had bought it. Not that it was really a magic product. It wasn't. Still, it was a career and had become the family business. Muggles had moved on to more advance forms of make-up, but the family's descendants in Paris still followed the old, original recipe and sold make-up to the old Pureblood families that demanded nothing but the best.

/I can't believe Granger actually has this stuff!./

That alone shocked him. He would have thought she'd be into her modern Muggle stuff and here she had Spring in Paris! And one of the originals, too! Lifting his small fur-covered head, he gazed up at her with a new interest glowing in his silver eyes. The little Mudblood had a lot of secrets and one of them is that she liked old things.

/Perhaps she's not as much a Mudblood as I thought…/

What else did she have stashed away in that dresser drawer? Did she possess more old stuff that would fit perfectly into his arrogant yet old-fashioned family? Scurrying forward, Draco leaped off the edge of the dresser into the still open drawer. He landed on something white and soft. Sniffing, he realized it was cotton. Taking a step forward, his tender paw landed on something hard. Glancing down, he realized what it was and snickered.

/Granger! I'm walking on your metal-lined bras here!./

Still snickering, Draco darted deeper into the drawer. Ferrets were small and could crawl almost anywhere. People that owned them often remarked "How did he ever get in there?", as they were famous for squeezing into openings the humans had been sure were too small for their pet. So it was no problem for Draco at all to crawl to the back of the drawer. Sniffing in the relative darkness, he happily discovered a few more old things. His eyes glowed in the dark like twin flashlights, thanks to the layer of tapetum in his eyeballs. This allowed him to see in the dark, just like Crookshanks. His eyes landed on something way in the corner, folded neatly. Crawling over to it, he studied it carefully. It was some fine old silk, the original cardboard tag still attached. Studying it for a moment, Draco knew instantly what it was. They were never worn and had just sat here in the drawer for who knows how many years, waiting for that special day.

/Wonder how Granger would react if I pulled these out for her?./

He could imagine her face turning red from embarrassment. But since he was a ferret, she might look only confused. Still, if Granger really was set on catching that Slytherin of her dreams, she needed all the help she could get. And they would be a good hint.

Gripping the cardboard tag in his mouth carefully, he started to drag the item to the front of the drawer.

000

Back at the train station, one very irate Lucius Malfoy was glaring at Professor Dumbledore. The empty train had been fully searched and no trace had been found of his son, just Draco's trunk of school stuff and his eagle owl. By then the magical side of the train station had been almost deserted, just an uneasy Crabbe and Goyle staying behind, worried about the blonde Slytherin. The fat boys' fathers, Mr. Crabbe and Mr. Goyle, were also there. They stood behind Lucius now, much as the younger versions stood behind Draco. "Well? Where is my son?"

"I assure you, Lucius, all the students were on the train." Albus Dumbledore replied calmly. "I'm sure there is a reasonable explanation for this…"

"Kidnapping is what this is!" Lucius bellowed, angry. Normally he didn't raise his voice but this was not a normal situation. His only son and heir was missing! With the well-known Malfoy fortune at his disposal, it was all too clear why someone may have snatched his son. Money was a powerful motive. That and the list of people he casually threatened for one reason or another. Any one of them might have taken Draco.

"Calm yourself, Lucius." Dumbledore rose his wrinkled hand, his voice serious. "I assure you the aurors will be here any moment and we'll discover your son's fate. But apparition onto the Hogwarts Express is impossible. You know that, Lucius. The train and its passengers are quite safe while it's traveling. No third party could have snuck aboard to kidnap young Draco. Nor do I detect any traces of dark magic in the air. I suspect the answer is something much simpler."

Lucius glared angrily at Dumbledore but he would wait for the aurors. He had already talked to Crabbe and Goyle and they had seen nothing, their hands and faces smeared with chocolate. Crabbe had remembered Draco had gone off to the bathroom alone and never returned, but the plump boy had thought nothing of it, sure he had stopped to chat with Pansy or Blaise. That, however, had not been the case.

Within moments, the group of Aurors arrived and they started to search the train. Sighing, Lucius went over to Narcissa to comfort her.

000

Hermoine was still gazing intently at the vintage powder container, a perplexed look on her face. "I wonder how do you use this stuff? Do you just use the puff to puff it on? Is that even the right word, puff? And even if I do figure that out, what about my hair – it looks, oh, I don't know what it looks like!"

But whatever it was, it wasn't glamorous. Usually she just tied it up in a ponytail and forgot about it. Sometimes she felt adventurous and she messily piled it on her head, but most days were not worth the effort. The thing is, she feared that no matter what she did to herself that she'd still look the same. What if she went through a lot of bother and no one noticed? That would be utterly horrible and she was sure it would cause her to break into tears. Besides, she was just a teenager! She couldn't expect to look glamorous, could she?

"But I have to try something…" Hermoine glanced at the dresser top and noticed the ferret was gone. Her chocolate eyes widened in fear and she started glancing around. Where did it go? She hadn't ferret-proofed her room yet! Her eyes widened in horror as she imagined it crawling down into the venting system.

/Oh no! I'll never get it back then!./

Turning quickly, she dashed to the heat vent on her wall and peered into the dark opening. She should have closed it immediately. The covering on it had tiny openings and she didn't think a ferret could fit into them, but still…

A loud squealing came from behind her and Hermoine twisted her neck to see what was making the sound. She spotted the ferret's little head poking out from within the dresser drawer and she sighed in relief. Reaching out, she firmly closed the vent cover and stood up. It was summer anyway and she didn't need it open. Walking over to her new pet, she was surprised to see something hanging from within its mouth. It looked like some kind of paper tag. Curious, she gripped the bit of paper and was shocked when a long something came out of the dresser drawer with it. The long thing was beige or tan in color and smooth to the touch. Holding it up high with one hand, Hermoine ran her other hand over it. Almost immediately the object separated into two smooth pieces, each as soft as silk.

"Silk stockings…"

To be continued…