I didn't mean too.

Gods, I swear I didn't mean too.

It was just an innocent potion, a once-in-a-lifetime mistake, how could I have know things were to turn into such a disaster? I NEVER THOUGHT I'D GET AWAY WITH IT!

My tail flicked in agitation as I berated myself inside my head, trying to find my way around the castle only half a foot tall wasn't helping much. There were many things in my life I didn't like, such as my father, Weasley, Pansy, polyester, and pink, but I never thought I come to the day where I hated fur.

White blonde fur twitched as I reached up and growled at a portrait,

'get professor Snape, and or Dumbledor!'

the painting looked up from polishing its armor, " oh would you look at that! O jolly little kitten!" it said with a boisterous laugh, " here kitty, kitty, kitty!" it held of its oil paint fingers.

I hissed, and the smile left the portraits face. I sunk my claws into canvas and then tore off down the hallway, listening to the agitated cries of the knight.

Hours, I'd been looking for a way out of this for hours, and yet still no luck. I'd never felt the need to cry so great as it was now, the desperation making whimpers past my fur covered lips, and my feline eyes squeeze shut. I stopped running, and sat down on the cold stone of the floor,

'Merlin, I didn't mean for this to happen!'

"What's that?" I spun around when I heard the voice.

I slowly backed away from the approaching footsteps, till I was up against a wall, and the dark, shadowed figure hovered above me.

"oh would you look at you?" a hushed whisper came from the person.

I tried to figure out who it was, but the body was just so much larger, everything seemed out of wack for my judging skills. It could have been a fourth year, or a really short fifth year. It could have been a boy or a boyish girl, and it could have been anyone else but potter if it didn't have the scent of honey and smoke. But they did have the smell of honey and smoke, and only potter had that smell, and so it could only be potter.

Potter took several steps forward, and my fur stood up end, he crouched down and held out a hand, " I think you might just be the most beautiful kitten I've ever seen." He hushed. I simpered under the complement, yet still clung to the wall, no matter how persuasive he was, I would not rub against him….no…matter…how much…I wanted to….gods, being a cat sucked….

"how about we go up to my room, eh kitty? Ron's off with hermoiny, and semus and dean are in detention with filtch, it'll just be us…." He quirked a smile, " and maybe some treats…"

Food was what won me over. No ands if or buts.

So five minutes later I was in the horrendously decorated dorm room of Harry Potter, curled up on his chest licking whip cream off his fingers, as he ran his other hand through my fur. I never really though about what purring felt like for a cat, but now I knew why they did it. The vibrations caused some kind of pleasure trigger or some thing, because the second his hand hit my fur, I was relaxed and purring and as horny as ever! (the whip cream wasn't helping my images)

Through out it all he was talking, telling me about his day, how pretty he thought my white blonde hair was, and how much I reminded him of someone. Of course he never said who! Just that he was rough on the outside, and perfect on the inside, that his hair was like mine, and my eyes were the same gray as his. He said that the boy was incredible, that no one was like him. I tried to think about whom he could be talking about, but no one clicked, well except me, and it was most assuredly not me! Arch enemies did not just strike your fancy one day, and Potter was talking like he was in love.

Half an hour later the whip cream was gone, I had a content stomach ach, and Potter was snoring quite comfortably underneath me. I though about leaving, hopping out of there and try to find Snape again, but I felt it was best that staying with someone would be the best choice…..and Potter was much warmer than the Slytherin dungeons ….

From where I was sitting I could examine everything from close range. His glasses weren't only old, and bent, they were too small for him, leaving red indents on the sides of his face. His chin was really pointed, and his nose was rather small, like mine. I longed to see his eyes from this closed, to see if they really were the swirling green constellations the girls rave about. But his eyes were gracefully closed; he looked incredibly peaceful with his black full eyelashes creating long, thick shadows under his eyes.

I licked his nose, and purred up close to him, nuzzling my head under his chin to curl up and fall asleep.

What a way for a screw up to turn into an experience of a lifetime… when it hit me…

My head shot up from nuzzling Potters neck,

… … … … …When does the potion wear off?

whipcream whipcream whipcream whipcream whipcream

okay so I'm not very good at one shots, I always turn them into stories, I hope this one turned out okay