GOMENNASAI GOMENNASAI! I AM REALLY SORRY! I didn't mean to up date so late, but I swear to the Holy Roman Empire that my computer is possessed and every time I try to type or go onto the Internet, it makes this really loud beeping noise and blasts my eardrums out! I got it fixed yesterday and was finally able to upload the chapter because I typed it on a different device and sent it to myself but GOMENNASAIIIIIIIII! *Clings to your leg* PLEASE FORGIVE MEEEEE! I will try to make this not happen again, but I don't have any control over my demon computer.

DISCLAIMER: This is a non-profit fanfiction, as in made by a fan. The only thing I own is the plot. All rights and characters go to our queen, J.K. Rowling.

Rating for this chapter: T for swearing and detailed gore. (It's really not that bad, but if you are not particularly fond of that stuff, just be careful.)

Now for everyone's favorite part: BROWNIE POINTS! (And there were a lot of them this chapter, thanks for keeping me on my toes, guys D:)

Draco: 2 3/4 BP. 1 from dreaming of rocketships so he will feel better (Draco thanks you), 1/4 from Elliac Sivad because every sick person deserves brownies (Draco agrees).

Harry: 2 3/4 BP. 1 each from sybil branson jr., kistenbabe, and 1/4 from Elliac Sivad for jumping on Draco's tummy! 1 from torajune28 for glaring at Harry adorably

Hermione: 1 BP

Mr. Monarch and the Ever-Elusive Dust Bunny: 1 BP (xD)

Snape: 3/4 BP. 1/4 from Elliac Sivad for showing that he can be a caring Godfather when he wants to be. (Snape is currently sulking in the corner), and 1/2 from natsuki23 for caring about Draco (Snape is going to be sulking for a couple of days, actually).

Blaise: 1/2 BP. 1/2 from natsuki23 for caring about poor old Draco (Blaise is bragging his head off, thanks a lot).

And this one gave me the blushies:

Me: 1/4 of a BP from Elliac Sivad for "Writing such a glorious fanfic". Thanks! x3 (I'm blushing so much my family is calling the Hospital no wait that's the asylum).

Don't say "If I were you…"

Or tell me what you'd do…

How things would be

If you were in my shoes…

Cause you're not me.

Hairy Pawter Chapter 4: Inexcusable

The manor had always been huge to Draco. No matter how long he would ever live there, no matter how many rooms he would ever explore; there was always that huge, empty feeling inside the manor. If anything, it seemed to get bigger as he ventured. He got even lonelier as the mansion enveloped him, so he soon stopped investigating, and he didn't interact with other humans besides meals. After that, he would stay inside his room, reading books of fantasy. His mind could wander off for hours on end, creating worlds of its own. He was considering writing such books himself, and he did, until one night when his imagination disappeared from him entirely.

There was a screaming erupting out of his manor. The shrieking echoed until it was suddenly cut off. Minutes later, a clipped howl burst out again. It was late at night, and Draco had stayed up reading and writing, which he had been doing fairly regularly lately. He was reaching the down point of his story, the part where nothing was working out the way the way the main character planned it, and then everything would get better and he would save everybody.

He heard a blood-curdling scream, and his body turned to ice. This… this coldness in the air was so unusual; it wasn't natural. He got to his feet, shakily, and froze. There it was again. It was a female voice, coming from lower in the house. Clutching the railing for dear life, he hesitantly made his way down the stairs. If there was something going on in this house, he would find out what it was, but he was a little bit… scared. Just a bit, not overly afraid, but he had to admit, if someone was screaming in your house, in the dead of night, he was probably going to be scared. The darkness was freaking him out, too. There was another cry that echoed off the walls and into his ears again. He followed them down another flight of steps. After a couple more, he was lead to a door that he didn't often go through: the basement. It was the only place that wasn't richly furnished like the rest of the house. It was dark, a sort of creepy place that monsters climbed out of. With the screeches that were exploding from it, Draco wasn't all sure that he wanted to go down there. He grit his teeth, and with a great amount of determination, creaked open the door.

It was very dark, it was very dark. It was to the point where Draco was nearly blind. There was a small light in the corner, though, so he made his way over to that faint glow. His eyes were adjusting; either that or the light was growing closer. But he blew his cover when the floor creaked as he stepped on it. Damn these old floors! Draco thought. The figure that was standing in front of the light whipped around to reveal a mangled woman on the floor. Draco gasped. Her leg was twisted around several times, the skin on the kneecap finally breaking at one point; she had a large cut on her forehead that was disgustingly deep. Her arm was twisted… backwards. Her stomach was bleeding, and it was leaking something white. He gasped and looked away. The sight was too much for his six year-old eyes to bear.

Draco shot up and gasped. He looked around. His vision was blurred for some reason, so all he could see was dots of white spinning as he turned his head. Was he… dead? Where was he? His rubbed his eyes a bit to get the sleep out, but he found them strangely wet. Was he… crying? No, he scoffed. He didn't cry. Hufflepuffs cried, but not Draco Malfoy.

Draco snapped back the white starched curtain that surrounded his bed, but was hit by an immediate rush of blinding white light. His eyesight was fuzzed by a hazy blur of brown and green spots dancing before his eyes. When he was finally able to see again, he looked around. He was in the Hospital Wing. Light was seeping through the massive windows, so it was either late morning or early afternoon. No one was in the Hospital Wing, so he was able to look down the row of beds, uninterrupted by the curtains that usually would have separated the beds that were occupied.

But today he was alone.

And he could not have wished for anything better.

Draco hated being inside the whole day, though. He hated the fact that he had to be bedridden for full two or three days more. There was Quidditch practice tomorrow, but Draco figured he could miss it. He was considering dropping out anyways, due to his lack of interest in it anymore, and his already overwhelming amount of schoolwork. If there was one more thing that he could get off his plate, no matter how small, he would swipe it off in a heartbeat. He had told this to Pansy a couple of days ago; she had replied that if there was something he could move so he wouldn't have to worry about it, it was Paws. Draco had turned red and said that the cat stayed, no matter what. She had asked why and Draco, the master of excuses, had said that if he had taken responsibility for a life, even if it was just for a cat, he couldn't back out on it. Besides, who would want a cat three months into the school year? Pansy had agreed, not wholeheartedly, though, Draco could tell. The truth was that there was something special about this cat… something that made him feel a connection. He could sense that this small creature could tell what he going through, somehow. It was one of the strangest and happiest emotions that he had felt in a long while. Lately he hadn't been feeling any at all.

The others had taken notice to his state of being; they had been slightly more cautious around him, as if they would break into his emotional shell with the most meaningless of words. He was at a delicate fork in the road, which was sure; his father had been torturing their family with all of the Death Eater meetings that were being held in his home; along with their prisoners. It was frightening for a mere nine year-old to know that there was, even if he or she was on the brink of death, a living, breathing human being that was being held in his basement against their will. There was a tenseness that had casted itself over Draco, now; a kind of feeling that had on the edge of insanity.

"And he lives!" cried Madame Pomfrey from across the Wing. Draco's head popped up; how long had she been there? If she had been there long enough, she would have seen him crying, no, not crying. She would have seen him… venting. It was a good thing that his curtain was closed at night. Draco sniffed and leaned against the headboard once again. His hands landed with a whomp on his lap, tucked in his too-large pajamas that Madame Pomfrey had handed him the night before. She bustled over to Draco's bed and pulled up a chair. She sat down and, resting her head in her hands, elbows propped up on her knees, stared him down. Draco's eyes darted from her to other objects in the room, desperate to escape from her merciless visual attacks. He squirmed in the covers until, finally, she probed quietly, "Do you know how long you were unconscious or asleep as I like to call it, Mr. Malfoy?" Draco shook his head. Judging by the look that she was giving him, the answer wouldn't be as good as he hoped. "Four days, Mr. Malfoy. Four days." Draco couldn't help but raise his eyebrows at this. Four days? Four fucking days?! He had guessed one or two, but four? Madame Pomfrey nodded in silent agreement, knowing what he was thinking.

Draco couldn't hold it in anymore. "What the FUCK?!" Draco barked. Madame Pomfrey opened her mouth to tell him to 1) quiet down and 2) stop swearing so much, for heaven's sake, but decided against it as she peered around the Hospital Wing and ruled that her best option was to give up scolding him.

"I had wanted to, if you stayed 'asleep' for any longer, test you for any minor brain damage, but it seems my prayers have been answered and you've awoken!" Madame Pomfrey beamed and flicked her wand as a stethoscope rose from her pocket and started to unroll itself. Draco gasped as the cold metal touched the skin just below his collarbone. "Don't worry, Mr. Malfoy, I'm just checking to make sure that this is no trick and you really don't have any damage."

But that was not what Draco's mind had wandered off to; his mind was on what Madame Pomfrey had confirmed just seconds earlier. She had… prayed for him? Draco didn't have any time for religion, or rather, he did, but his father had never been one to go to church and there certainly wasn't a Bible in their house. No one had ever gone to the trouble to pray for Draco. Most people were either afraid of him or one of the people that he was afraid of. If felt nice, knowing that someone had gone out of their way to make sure that a good word was put in about him with the Big Guy. It made him want to look into this 'religion' thing.

"Well, all done here. You're good." Madame Pomfrey announced after a series of slightly embarrassing tests, some prodding here, some poking there. He was used to having this stuff done in the comfort of his own home, with the family doctor. But at school, at his home for nine months out of the year, was a different story. He got up to put his clothes on and finally get out of this place, but was stopped by a hand flinging across his chest. "Not so fast, Mr. Malfoy. I said you were good, I didn't say that you could go. You still have much resting to do." Madame Pomfrey whisked away, her clean white apron flapping behind her. Draco nearly banged his face on the bedside table that stood next to him. If he had to sit another day in this hellhole…

Draco spent the day working on homework, finishing up Accio in Greece, and planning how his meeting with his father would go that night. After all, he had missed a day, which happened every so often, so tonight could get a little painful. If there was anything more that he needed…

Harry had ultimately decided to stay back when he discovered that the Three Slytherin-keteers were going to visit Draco. It's not that he didn't want to find out if he survived, but his rug right now was just so comfy… Plus, Pansy had stated to Blaise earlier that that delirious journalist had come back. Harry wasn't sure which one she was talking about, because there were many of them these days, but when Pansy reported onward, his fears had been confirmed… Rita Skeeter had returned to Hogwarts.

And when she discovered that there was a cat living at Hogwarts that had Harry's "mournful, tear-filled emerald eyes", the papers would be all over Harry faster than he could hide under Draco's bed. If there was anything that Harry had observed about Rita Skeeter, it was that if she was in a five-mile radius of you, you were advised to always have your guard up. Therefore, Harry ruled that it was safer to find out if there was a dead man in the Hospital Wing when the dead man walked through the door and told him that he was okay.

The last few days had been so incredibly boring. Harry had lost count how many days had gone by since he got his whiskers, but he came to a conclusion that it was getting close to the three week mark.

Three weeks, Harry thought to himself. He had survived being surrounded by Slytherins for three fucking weeks. He was one tough man/cat; surely he would be praised for his duty to the Gryffindor house when he returned back. Honestly, it had been really terrifying in the first three hours. He didn't know what they would do to him; Harry had always thought that Slytherins killed innocent kittens, and he was convinced that Draco Malfoy ate them for breakfast. But he discovered that, apart from being a little more devious than the other students at Hogwarts, Slytherins were just kids, like the rest of them. Just trying to learn. And really, they weren't all that scary once you got over the fact that they were complete psychopaths when it came to pranks. But they sure did know how to keep it lively in the Slytherin Boy's Dormitory. Every night, there would be either a slightly traumatic prank or a really deep discussion on the meaning of life, and these guys couldn't keep a straight face during either. It felt a bit more… not homey, no, that was definitely not the word, but it felt less provocative. When he, at last, discovered why it the atmosphere felt like this, it was for a reason that came with mixed emotions. This is what they did at Gryffindor Tower. They would mess around and joke with each other about the most ridiculous subject they could find, and then end up getting yelled at by Hermione for being too loud. Harry was a bit frightened by this discovery; they had been treating the Slytherins like criminals for ages. It came as a bit of a shock to him, too, but maybe this was the reason that Gryffindors and Slytherins were rivals. Gryffindors are so stubborn that they don't want to believe that Slytherins could be normal, much less nice. But it also came as a sort of comfort to Harry. At least he wasn't the only one who had been misjudging them.

He would settle that when he turned back again, which he hoped would happen as soon as possible. But there was still a lot of exploring to do here. Harry rolled over and put his weight on his paws once more. He had slightly gotten used to this whole cat thing, and how he was supposed to walk, lie down, and sit. He disliked the whole fact that he was a pet, still, though. He didn't think that he would ever get used to that. He didn't want to.

Harry continued with his adventuring. What would Ron want to explore? Harry thought what Ron's reply would be: "You're a cat now, let's go see the Girls' Dormitory!" The cat shook his head. No, he would not sink to the level of a Peeping Tom. Maybe.

…If there was anything he was going to do, he was going to find out what was going on between Draco and his father. By the way Mr. Malfoy had been speaking to his son the other night, there had to be something going on that was bigger than your regular father-son feud. Harry leaped up to Draco's bed, which still smelled like the blonde: some sort of spicy cologne. It tickled Harry's nose and made him do one of his little cat-sneezes. Ugh. Harry glared around to make sure no one heard that. It was extremely high and very… cute. Not something the Chosen One would want to be known for. Setting his mind back on the task at hand, he flipped the comforter back a bit to make check if there was some sort of explanation for the Draco/Lucius situation under there. There were no clues hiding within the sheets, so he moved to the small suitcase that was hidden away under Draco's bed. Harry hadn't bothered to open it during his time stowing away beneath there. He scooted downward to the underbelly of the bed. Using his head (literally), he pushed the suitcase out onto the rug. He squeezed out and pawed over to the edge of the suitcase that had the opening. He flicked the little switch and the case sprang back, making Harry jump about twenty feet in the air. He heard Pansy, back from the Hospital Wing; ask from downstairs, "What was that?"

Shit, Harry thought. It made a very loud noise when it hit the floor behind it. He could hear the footsteps traveling up the stairs, towards him. He had to think fast. With an incredible amount of cleverness on his part, he started to force the suitcase back under the bed. It was extremely heavy, and difficult to push. Harry's ears twitched with the sound of the three pairs of feet getting closer with each second. Screw this, he thought, and backtracked so he was about five feet away from the side of the suitcase. He listened to the Slytherins stop at the door to open it, and ran towards the suitcase. His paws hit the ground faster and faster, until all he could see was the blur of his surroundings spinning before his eyes.

At the last moment, he leaped. It seemed, that just for a second, everything was in slow motion around him. The doorknob was slowly turning. Into the suitcase he plopped, the sheer force sliding the suitcase under the bed, him in it. Was he really that heavy? Was all he could think as Pansy, Nott, and Blaise stepped into the room to investigate. They left without a sound as Harry did a mini victory dance, under Draco Malfoy's bed, in his enemy's suitcase.

He slowly climbed out of the suitcase and slinked around to the back of it. He pushed it out yet again, but it was slightly easier than last time. He waited for the footsteps to disappear down the hallway and then peeked inside the leather case.

It was empty except for one book.

One.

Book.

He nudged it open with his nose to have a cloud of dust puffed into his face. The kitten shook his head furiously and removed most of it. He was able to see again, and was greeted by faint yellow pages with neat, practiced handwriting. The words that he read were carefully chosen and well thought through, by the looks of it. The words that he read were aged and obviously very important to the receiver.

The words that he read were either a death wish or soon to be one.

Draco got out of the Hospital Wing after two more days of school work, taking disgusting medicine, and banging his head on the wall. His time wasted in the Hospital Wing had been torture to Draco. If he hadn't gotten out sooner, he would've died.

But now that he had gotten out, he was sure he would've died anyways.

Blaise was now 'convinced' that Draco was still sick. He was now cooing over Draco every chance he got, which was just considered more proof to Draco that Blaise was faking it. It was getting overwhelming.

The first time Draco was attacked by Blaise's lovesickness was when Blaise tried to get Draco to let him carry him back to the dorms. Probably just to feel my ass, was Draco's first thought on this matter. The second was to get to a garbage can; he was going to puke just thinking about it.

The second time was when he woke up the next morning to find Blaise and him nose-to-nose, Blaise claiming that he was checking for a fever. Draco screamed and, out of shock, slapped Blaise across the face. He then, out of glee, grinned when it left a large red mark on his face.

The third time, Draco started to get sick of the flirting. Blaise attacked him while he was coming out of the shower. He tackled Draco and straddled him, and this time's excuse was that Draco looked pale and he should lie down and he was just helping him so he shouldn't slap him again.

Draco ignored him and slapped him again.

Blaise seemed to be wearing down a little bit, so that was good. Draco rubbed his forehead exasperatedly. The problem was, he didn't want to crush Blaise's spirits, but he also wasn't in favor of his lifelong best friend crushing on him. Pansy was on his side, too, but probably because she was persuaded that she was dating Draco. This just got Draco in deeper.

Draco lay back on his bed and closed his eyes. He was happy to be back in his regular old dormitory. It was late afternoon, almost evening, so the dim sunlight was streaked with pinks and reds that reflected into the room. The air here was so much more relaxed than the crisp, clean, Hospital Wing air. The sun set on another chaotic day at Hogwarts, and Draco wondered where that bastard Potter had run off to. Probably being Dumbledore's pet again. But still… If he didn't turn up soon, the Ministry would be all over the case, they'd probably flip out on Draco's parents, too. Whole wizarding world was always focused on Harry fucking Potter…

...But what if he didn't turn up? Draco guessed he would be kind of happy about it. Maybe he was leaving the Wizarding World to Voldemort's destruction, the ass. Running from his problems as usual. Not only that, but with the Chosen One gone, who would he annoy? To be honest, it was really fun to watch Potter's reaction to everything. He had quite the animated face. When he was surprised, his green eyes would widen so much you could see the little specks of lighter green in them. His eyebrows would go so far up his forehead it was almost comical. Sometimes, if he was really surprised, his mouth would drop so that Draco could see his tongue and his light pink lips would form a perfect 'o'. Draco chuckled lightly.

And bolted up.

He must really be going insane.

Yet another week passed for Harry and Draco. They went about their daily routines, each having their own separate problems with their current state of being. Though, every day, Draco would bring the scraps of food from the Great Hall that Draco didn't eat. Draco still wasn't eating much, but 'Paws' didn't like cat food. Whenever Draco brought human food, however, he scarfed it down like a wild animal, which he was far from being. Draco still took ridiculously long in the shower, which no one questioned, really.

Draco felt lonely. That was the real reason that he had gotten Paws; maybe a pet would help him escape from the pit of darkness that he had been stuck in lately. But the cat just seemed to ignore him; he would even go far as saying that Paws hated him. He couldn't put his finger on it, but every time the cat's eyes wandered to him, it gave him a look of such… suspicion.

Draco set his head on the back of one of the armchairs in front of the fireplace. It was always so peaceful, finally a place where he could think. He liked it especially when there were no people there.

He liked everything when there were no people.

He was always looking out not to step on Paws, he made sure to bring food for him, which he seemed to enjoy, he even brought Paws some toys to play with: a little plush mouse that was enchanted to zoom around the room when activated, a few ribbons that were charmed to dance around and taunt Paws while he was supposed to chase them around.

Nothing.

Not a single reaction to anything.

This situation was edging on hopeless. Paws was Draco's cat; Draco wanted him to like him, but he couldn't force him to.

Draco stood up. He couldn't make Paws like him, but he would do everything in his power to make Paws happy here.

He practically skipped up the steps from the Common Room to the Boy's dormitory. What better way to get someone (or some cat) to like you than to spend time with them? He smiled, nearly giggled, and pushed open the door to his dorm.

Pansy, in the Common Room below, watched her blonde friend make his way up the staircase. With a visible difference in the way he walked, she positively beamed when she saw his face. However many times she had seen him in the se past months, she hadn't seen him looking this happy. These were the times that she should be capturing with the camera in her mind, lest she didn't see his smile for longer than last time.

Harry was not happy. He had been woken up from his now-daily nap by his blonde idiot of an owner bursting through the door and stealing him away from his place on the rug.

And now he was in his enemy's lap.

Watching him do homework.

For the third hour in a row.

Draco had missed a week's worth of schoolwork while in the Hospital Wing, so Harry was now forced to discover how long it took for a Slytherin to make that up. The fact that he was having to watch Draco do his homework wasn't what bothered him; it was that he had to sit in Draco's lap, while Draco petted him that rubbed him the wrong way, and quite literally, too. He didn't dare lay down and be all cozy-cozy with his current "owner" (ugh, even the word disgusted him), no, he was sitting stiffly, facing the table, on Draco's mid-thigh, so he was as far from Draco as he could be. He watched Draco's hand scribble an answer to today's Astronomy question. Draco's health wasn't the only thing suffering; his once-neat handwriting had taken a downfall to a messy scrawl, to the point where it was nearly illegible. Harry wasn't exactly sure what caused this; maybe he had just gotten lazy, or didn't care about his school work anymore. Maybe this was a sign sent to them as one of the first signs of the apocalypse. But in all seriousness, he was slightly worried about Draco for not the first time.

Harry began to check Draco's work. He wanted to make sure Draco's grades didn't drop any lower than they already had. His eyes glanced over the first couple questions; those were right. But he almost rammed his head on the table when he came to the fourth one. The most obvious question ever was the one question when Draco decided to live up to the dumb blonde stereotype. Harry turned around, poked Draco's stomach with his paw, and glared furiously at him. Idiot. Draco looked down at him and sort of nervously looked away. He did a double-take to make sure that he was seeing correctly, and then gripped his quill tighter and looked away. Harry smirked. Draco could tell that he wasn't going to let up. "...The hell d'you want, Paws?" Harry rolled his eyes and bit the closest part that he could reach - a small portion of skin just below Draco's ribcage. Draco yelped and fell off the chair that he was sitting in. Harry landed nimbly on the floor while Draco toppled away.

Now that Draco had stumbled back into his chair, he gawked at Harry and huffed. There was a moment where these two both just glared at each other in a silent contest of guts.

Harry, not breaking the stare, hopped onto the table, walked to the paper, and put his paw on the question. Draco took a moment to glance down at the paw, although he didn't get the message. As much as Harry had recognized Draco as smart, he was sure being an idiot today. Harry meowed impatiently and stood on the question, though Draco didn't understand.

A fuming Harry took the quill that was slung across the table in his mouth and set it on the question. Only then were things starting to piece together to Draco. He was not very proud to say that he got his homework done and corrected by a cat.

Fire is nice, Draco thought. He always thought that fire was a beautiful substance, when his father's head wasn't ripping out of it. He looked down at the little bundle in his lap. Paws was asleep, he had been for about twenty minutes, and in that twenty minutes he had curled himself into a little ball and was breathing slowly. Draco set his hand on Paws' side. He could feel Paws' chest rise and fall, and it was cute. He smiled and leaned back in the chair. After today's events, he could definitely tell that something was different about Paws. He was smart, he could understand him. He didn't look at Draco in a mindless reply; he bit Draco when Draco was in a bad mood to snap him out of it.

Oh well. Draco cradled Paws in his arms and took him up to the Boy's Dorm. He slowly tapped up the steps to make sure he didn't wake him. The dorm was dark, which told Draco that everyone was already asleep. Blaise's quiet snores filled the room. The moonlight that shone through the window provided a little light for Draco to see where he was going. He muted his footsteps and slowly crept over to his bed. The blonde set Paws at the end of the four-poster and slipped under the covers. He fell asleep without a sound.

It was somewhere close to 11:30pm and Harry couldn't sleep at all. He didn't remember even falling asleep, all he knew was that now, when he should be sleeping, he couldn't. There were never any times like this in Gryffindor Tower. And when they were, they weren't filled with this eerie silence. It was scaring him. He turned over on the green and silver comforter. This wasn't going anywhere, by the looks of it. It didn't look like Harry was ever going to turn back into regular old Harry ever again. He was having a hard time looking on the bright side.

He mewled quietly and turned onto his back for no reason. Well, maybe there was a reason. He was getting really lonely as of late. It wasn't like he could join in on any conversations; it wasn't like he could strike up one, either. He pawed at the dust particles in the air, visible in the pale moonlight. They scurried to the other side of the room with even the slightest movement. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Draco's chest rising and falling slowly. He was slowly getting a bit of meat on his bones, although he was still horrifyingly thin. He seemed… not happier, no, he was definitely not happy yet… he seemed more open. The questions weren't avoided as much, even though there still were those left unanswered. He set foot out of Slytherin Tower more than the bare minimal. His grades were picking back up. Draco wasn't as afraid.

This had made a noticeable difference in the atmosphere. Draco was halfway back to being the boss, maybe a little less. And while this wasn't exactly what you would call a good habit, it was better than seeing him getting beaten down by 11 year-olds. To be honest, those days were the ones where Harry really, truly pitied Draco. It was sad to see a man have his ass kicked by someone half his size.

Suddenly, Harry felt a rumbling inside himself. This was different from purring, this was different than anything he had felt before, like he was being pushed through a very tiny hole, or shrunk down to that size. He glanced around nervously. It was coming from inside him, wasn't it? A few more moments of rumbling confirmed that it was. Where from inside him, he wasn't exactly sure.

This was really starting to creep Harry out. With each passing second, it grew louder until all Harry could hear was a bomb-like booming echoing in his ears. He growled furiously but the noise showed no mercy. In vain, he tried to cover his ears. Finally, when he thought that he couldn't take it anymore,

It got louder. Harry felt something warm in his ears. Blood, for sure. He felt a falling sensation, and that seemed to be what he was doing: falling. The blasting finally had met its end, but whether or not it was a good thing riddled Harry.

Harry was human again. He had fallen off of the side of the bed and landed with a thump on the ground.

However, said thump had woken up a certain blonde that was now gawking at Harry.

Oh, yeah, there was another thing that he forgot to mention.

Harry was completely naked.

Oh no you guys... I can't wait to see how Harry gets out of this one (and trust me, if you're the perverts that are hoping for this whole situation to end in lemon in the next chapter... you will not be pleased.)

SO JUST CLARIFYING: THERE WON'T BE LEMON FOR A LOOOONG TIME.

But also, I would like to point out something to you guys:

Harry and Draco are tied for Brownie Points.

Draco: GIVE ME BROWNIEEESSS

Me: Get away, Draco! No violating reader-chan!

Harry: Come on, Draco, you can be around innocent readers when you're emotionally stable again.

Me: Thank you, Harry. But anyways, give Brownie Points to your favorite! I can promise more fluff and some... face-palm worthy moments next chapter! Too-da-loo!

~C

P.S.: REVIEW OR DRACO GETS WORSE! MWAHAHAHAHHAHA!

P.P.S.: I'm serious, I have some ideas of what will happen if Draco gets worse. Will only make the plot thicker, so I might do it anyways (~-U-~)

~C~