Chapter 6

"Dragon King of the Seven Realms, are you listening?" Binns asked me.

How did that ghost dare to call me out? In the four years I had been at Hogwarts, Binns had never talked to me. I always thought he was scared of what my father would do to him if he heard about that. But now that I was as poor as a rat, no, worse, as a Weasley, he didn't hesitate to use me as a punching bag. And my father would never hear about this.

He told me, in a crumpled letter of yellow paper, that there was to much noise under the muggle bridge for him to hear anything. He also asked me to resend the paper, as he needed to reuse it to send three more letters, because "the inflation had really gotten to paper".

"Enough!" I said "I am NOT Dragon King of the Seven Realms!"

"No? Who are you then?" said Wesley trying not to laugh. Wesley laughing at me. I have really hit rock bottom.

"I am..." pause for suspense "I am... Draco Malfoy!"

The response was unanimous:

"Who?"

"Me! Come on! Draco Malfoy! That incredible student with perfect blond hair and so, so much money"

"You must be confused Dragon Ki- Draco" Binns said, passing through a startled Pansy Parkinson, who hugged herself in an effort to forget the coldness of the ghost. "You are poor"

"What did you call me?! My father will-" Oh, right.


"BLACK!" I screamed that afternoon, storming into his office "I demand my money back!"

"Now, now, Dragon King of the Seven Realms, don't b-"

"If you call me like that again, I'll kill you" I said, lifting my paw "I will burrow into your eyes when you sleep and then I'll beep your beeep and beeep until you beeeeep"

"Shut up. I'll kick you into the lake"

"I will have my revenge on you, Black" I said, and I left the room, slamming the door.

"Do you want some help with that?" Black said, while I huffed and puffed at the gigantic door. Why do they make doors so big nowadays? "No"

"You sure? I'll give a good slam for you"

I was called to Snape's office for the extreme noise, so Black did a good job.


If I want to get my revenge on Black, the first step is getting my money back. Then, a little detour to throw Weasley and Potter of a cliff, and I will ki- make Black understand the error in his ways.

"Malfoy, stop narrating! You are in class!"

Was I thinking aloud again? Judging by Weasley's and Potter extreme laughter, I guess not. This can only mean that Snape is psychic. And that rat... I mean, that marvellous Professor can read all my thoughts.

"Thank you, Malfoy, but sucking all over the place will get you nowhere. Detention"

Apparently, the Triwizard Tournament wasn't cancelled. I thought that me being turned into a ferret would end any kind of celebration, but everyone seemed to party even harder. All except Potter. He is always sweating profusely, holding to a golden egg for dear life. He mutters about some egg mystery. I shouldn't worry, as I have enough problems of my own, but I have grown addicted to the eggs timely screams. I need to know what the egg means.

And so, one afternoon, I slithered my way into the Gryffindor dorm. How? I waited until someone said the password, I wrote it down and then repeated it to the painting. I did all this in front of the painting. I even waved the paper, and enunciated in every language possible that I was NOT a Gryffindor student (belch). It let me through without issue.

The castle's security system is horrible. How was Dumbledore considered a genius with such deplorable doors? Even a braindead dog could work out how to enter the dorms. He maybe thinks that we are all dumber that braindead dogs. While he would be right in some cases (Potter for example) he would be wrong to think that of me.

Ah, how good it feels to end the Potter slandering of the day.

"Yes, Hermione, I'm really close to figuring the egg's mystery out" the voice of Potter. If he was close to figuring the mystery out, that must mean that there is no mystery at all. I would figure it out in a couple of seconds, I was sure.

I climbed to the boys dorm. It was empty. The egg rested on what I imagine to be Potters bed, waiting for me to open it. I was this close to touching it with my bare paw, after arduously scaling the bed's leg, when I stopped right in my tracks.

No. It couldn't be.

"Croak"

Ferrets can sweat with fear. Did you know that? I didn't. I tried to ignore the croaks. After all, Trevor should be in his cage, a safe distance from me. He was probably just sitting there. There was no reason for him to desire to sit anywhere else. He was in his cage. Right?

I forgot his owner was Longbottom. Trevor had fattened up since our days together, yes he had. That hair extracting slap of his stayed the same, however.

While he was in the middle of torturing me, he stopped and stared into space. He stayed like that for a few minutes. Like owner like pet, I suppose. I intelligently (I'm not Potter) took my chance and hid inside the egg. The screams should have warned me, but I didn't listen. I did listen the next seven hours. I wish I was deaf.

Then, finally, the egg opened. I plummeted into soaped water and saw things that I don't want to remember.

"Draco?" said a naked Potter "What are you doing here?"

Notes: I'm just writing this for fun, so it'll probably just get crazier from here, so, uh... Don't hesitate to tell me if it starts to get too ridiculous for you or something like that.