Chapter Trīspadsmit
Draco breathed deeply, trying to keep himself from panicking. His little extra credit assignment was turning out to be relationship-ruining.
He kept watching as Pansy and Harry interacted. Harry looked like he wanted to cry—and so did Pansy. But Harry never once raised his voice at her. Instead, he had forgiven her, which only seemed to make her feel worse.
Pansy returned to the Slytherin table and immediately started sobbing. Loudly.
“I lost his kitten, Draco! And he’s not even mad at me!” she wailed. “I feel like a horrible person. What if Storm is dead because I couldn’t keep him safe? I’m a murderer!”
Draco forced himself to stay calm even as guilt twisted in his stomach.
“You are not a murderer, Pansy. I’m sure the kitten just wandered off,” he said, trying to soothe her. “Take some deep breaths and eat something—it’ll make you feel better.”
He pulled her into a hug, hoping to calm her down. She still sniffled as he carefully spooned food onto her plate, her hands shaking slightly as she picked up her fork.
Draco tried to push down the overwhelming guilt pressing on his chest. This is my fault.
They had Potions today, and Draco clung to the hope that Severus might have some insight. As the one who had assigned the Animagus project, surely he could offer some advice.
Because at this rate?
Draco wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep this secret without breaking. After breakfast, they headed to the dungeons. Pansy kept muttering, “I should’ve held onto him tighter,” her gaze unfocused as she stared blankly ahead.
When they reached the Potions classroom and found their usual desk, Draco couldn’t help but fidget. Pansy was too lost in her own world to notice, but some of the other students did, casting him odd looks.
He tried to steady himself by thinking of something pleasant, anything to push down the guilt clawing at his chest. But instead, his mind betrayed him, pulling up a memory—
Sitting with Harry in the Gryffindor common room as Storm, curled up beside him. The warm glow of the fireplace, the soothing cadence of Harry’s voice as he read aloud from Hamlet.
"The old English is easier to interpret this way," Harry had explained, absentmindedly stroking Storm’s fur.
Draco swallowed hard, forcing himself back to the present. Snape entered the room, his sharp gaze sweeping over the students. His eyes landed on Draco, lingering for a moment before he let out a quiet sigh.
"Good morning, students. Today we will be brewing Amortentia, also known as a love potion. Do not mistake this for real love, as it only causes great obsession and infatuation in the consumer. It is also widely known to smell like the things one is most attracted to. I have written the ingredients and instructions on the board. One partner will retrieve the ingredients, while the other will copy down the instructions," Snape said before retreating to his desk.
Draco turned to Pansy. "You get the ingredients, I'll copy down the recipe," he instructed, hoping to finish quickly so he could speak with the Potions Master. He knew he had to be thorough, but his mind was already racing with how to approach the conversation.
He pulled out a piece of parchment and began copying the instructions in neat, precise script. It didn’t take him long. Once finished, he pushed back his chair and made his way toward Snape’s desk, heart pounding slightly in his chest.
Snape didn’t look up from grading as Draco approached. "Speak," he said, already anticipating the conversation.
Draco shifted uncomfortably. "Professor, I— I think I’ve messed up," he admitted, lowering his voice so only Snape could hear. "It’s about the extra credit assignment."
Snape finally lifted his gaze, his expression unreadable. "Ah. I assume this has something to do with your rather obvious distress and the Gryffindor currently mourning his lost kitten?"
Draco clenched his jaw. "Pansy is miserable. Harry looks devastated. And I— I don’t know how to fix it. If I tell them the truth, I don’t know how they’ll react."
Snape considered him for a moment before speaking. "You knew the risks of this assignment, Draco. Animagus transformations, particularly ones kept secret, are complicated. That being said…" He paused, glancing toward where Pansy was returning with the ingredients. "If you let this continue much longer, you risk irreparable damage to your friendships."
Draco’s stomach twisted. "So you think I should just… tell them?"
Snape arched his brow. "Unless you would prefer to let them grieve for a cat that is very much alive?"
Draco sighed, running a hand through his hair. "When you put it that way…"
Snape’s lips twitched slightly, almost as if he were amused. "Handle it wisely, Draco. And do so soon."
Draco nodded, retreating back to his seat just as Pansy placed their ingredients down with a sniffle. He glanced at Harry across the room, the weight of the confession hanging over him.
“I have the instructions, Pansy, and I have something to tell you. Just please promise not to freak out,” Draco said, deciding he might as well just come clean.
Pansy, still looking miserable, rubbed her temples. “Draco, what could you possibly say that would make me feel better? I lost Storm! Harry is heartbroken! I—”
“You don’t need to feel bad about losing Storm," Draco interrupted, his voice steady but nervous. "It’s all my fault you lost him.”
Pansy looked up in surprise, then narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “What do you mean, Draco? What are you hiding?”
Draco hesitated, but there was no turning back now. “You know how I was gone for almost three weeks? Well… I wasn’t. I never even left.”
Pansy crossed her arms, her frustration growing. “Yeah, and? Spit it out already.”
Draco took a deep breath. “I was Storm.”
Silence.
Pansy just stared at him, completely motionless. Then, her face contorted in confusion, disbelief flickering in her eyes. “You were… Storm? Storm? The little white fluffball? The cat I carried around, cuddled, and fed fish to? That Storm?”
Draco winced. “Er… yes.”
Pansy opened her mouth, then closed it again, looking utterly baffled. Her expression morphed rapidly from shock to horror, and then finally, fury. “You mean to tell me I’ve been sobbing over a cat that wasn’t even lost?!” she whisper-yelled, mindful of the other students but clearly furious.
Draco nodded hesitantly. “I know it sounds bad—”
“Bad?! Draco, I mourned you! I’ve been feeling awful thinking I failed to protect Harry’s kitten, and you were just sitting there the whole time?!”
“I didn’t mean to make you feel bad, Pans,” Draco said quickly. “I wanted to tell you sooner, but I— I got in too deep. And I didn’t expect Harry to get so attached, and then I didn’t know how to break it to him, and—”
Pansy groaned and buried her face in her hands. “You absolute moron, Draco.”
Draco sighed. “I know. That’s why I’m telling you first. I want to tell Harry myself.”
Pansy peeked at him through her fingers. “Oh, you better tell him yourself, because if I have to do it, I will make it as dramatic as possible.”
Draco ran a hand through his hair. “I will, I promise. Just… let me figure out how to do it without him murdering me.”
Pansy exhaled sharply, shaking her head. “I cannot believe this. You cuddled him, Draco. You let him baby you.”
Draco flushed. “I was a cat! It’s not like I had a choice!”
Pansy smirked, her fury fading slightly as amusement crept in. “Oh, this is going to be so much fun to watch.”
Draco groaned, already regretting everything. “Let’s just finish this potion, and then we can come back to that.”
“You got it, fluffy!” Pansy said, wiping away the last of her tears.
Draco groaned again, but he couldn’t really blame her for making fun of him—he totally deserved it.
They focused on their potion, stirring carefully until the liquid turned a shimmering pink. The surface gleamed under the dim dungeon light, signaling that it was complete. Pansy leaned in and took an experimental sniff.
“It smells floral… with hints of campfire smoke and parchment,” she mused. A small frown crept onto her face. “I’m confused about the parchment, though.”
Curious, she raised her hand, and Snape gave her an approving nod. “Sir, you said the potion is supposed to smell like things we like, but I smell parchment, and I’m pretty sure I don’t have a thing for old paper.”
Snape gave her a knowing look. “An astute observation, Ms. Parkinson. However, I failed to mention that Amortentia can also reveal the scents of people you find yourself interested in.”
The moment those words left his mouth, the classroom erupted into excited whispers and teasing laughter. Students eagerly leaned over their cauldrons, inhaling deeply to decode the hidden messages in their own potions.
Draco huffed but couldn’t resist taking a subtle sniff of his own. The familiar scents filled his nose: crisp green apple, evergreen trees, broom shiner, and—his breath hitched—Treacle Tart.
His stomach dropped. While he liked the dessert, it wasn’t exactly his favorite. But he knew someone who loved it. Someone who practically inhaled it every time it appeared at dinner.
Realization crashed into him like a rogue Bludger, and his face went red.
“Ooooh,” Pansy drawled, eyes sparkling with mischief. “Draco has a crush!”
“Sod off, Pansy,” he muttered, covering his face with his hands as she cackled beside him.
As Draco focused on steadying his breathing, the chatter in the room buzzed around him. Students excitedly discussed what they smelled, some laughing, others blushing.
He wasn’t paying much attention—at least, not until a familiar voice cut through the noise.
“I dunno,” Harry said, sounding almost puzzled. “Mine smells like the Burrow, Treacle Tart, the air before it rains… and green apple.”
Draco’s quill slipped from his fingers.
Treacle Tart.
Green apple.
His stomach twisted, a strange mix of emotions tightening in his chest. The potion wasn’t just about favorite scents—it revealed what the drinker was attracted to.
His mind reeled, but his body reacted before he could stop it. He turned slightly, just enough to see Harry frowning into his cauldron, absentmindedly stirring. Hermione was saying something to him, but Draco didn’t hear the response.
He swallowed hard, dragging his gaze away. His heart pounded in his ears.
Treacle Tart and green apple.
It could be a coincidence. It had to be a coincidence.
He exhaled deeply, and somewhere deep in the back of his mind he hoped it wasn’t a coincidence. However, he had much more pressing matters to deal with than a crush he had to potentially ruin his relationship with said crush as an act of honesty, goodwill and for the most part guilt.
Speaking of that, he thought he better plan to speak with Harry after class. Before anyone could sneak some of the potion away, Snape made all of it disappear.
“No potion for you lot. Knowing you, there would be unrecoverable consequences if that happened,” Snape said. “You all pass for today and are free to leave. Now shoo, you hormonal teenagers.”
Draco would have laughed, but he needed to talk to Harry. He got up and tapped the boy on the shoulder.
“Hey, could we talk in private after class?”
Harry looked at him, confused. “I mean, sure. Is everything okay?”
“Yeah— I mean, no. I just have something I need to tell you,” Draco stressed.
“Sure. Can you meet me in the courtyard?”
“Yup. See you in a moment.”
Draco slowly packed his bag, trying to delay the inevitable, but soon he had all his things and couldn’t delay anymore. He walked out to the courtyard, where he saw Harry sitting on a bench.
He sat next to him and said, “This will likely be a short and relationship-altering conversation, so please bear with me.”
“Okay?” Harry said, clearly confused. Draco looked at him and saw the blotchy redness of crying.
“I wasn’t honest when I said I had been gone visiting my mother…”
Harry had the gall to look more confused.
“I never even left and was parading around with you the whole time. Just…” Draco took a deep breath. “As a cat. You know, the one you lost.”
Draco held his breath, waiting for the reaction.
There was a beat of silence.
Harry blinked at him. Once. Twice. Then he let out a breathless, disbelieving laugh.
“You’re joking,” he said, but there was no humor in his voice.
Draco shook his head. “I wish I was.”
Harry opened his mouth, closed it, then dragged a hand through his hair. “You mean to tell me,” he said, his voice rising slightly, “that you were Storm? That this entire time, I’ve been looking for— you?”
Draco swallowed hard, guilt tightening his chest. “I didn’t plan for it to go this far. It was supposed to be a simple Animagus assignment—extra credit. But then I got stuck, and by the time I figured out how to change back, it had already been weeks, and you—”
Harry let out a short, incredulous laugh. “And I what?”
Draco hesitated, then sighed. “You were… kind to me. Even when I was just a cat. And I didn’t know how to just come back after that.”
Harry stared at him, his expression raw with something Draco couldn’t quite name. Then, to Draco’s horror, his eyes started to glisten.
“I thought I lost you,” Harry murmured, voice thick. “I really thought I did.”
Draco had expected anger—maybe even yelling—but not this. Not the quiet, open hurt in Harry’s voice.
“…You didn’t,” Draco said softly.
Harry huffed out a breath, wiping at his eyes. “Yeah, well,” he sniffed, “you better not pull anything like this again, Malfoy. Next time you want to spend time with me, maybe just— I don’t know—ask?”
Draco smirked, trying to lighten the mood. “What, and miss out on being carried around and hand-fed?”
Harry let out a surprised laugh, shaking his head. “Git.” But there was no real heat to it.
Draco took a risk, bumping his shoulder lightly against Harry’s. “For what it’s worth… I didn’t hate it.”
Harry rolled his eyes but smiled, small and crooked. “Yeah, yeah. Just—give me time to process this, alright?”
Draco nodded. “Take all the time you need.”
Even as they sat in silence, Draco felt something shift between them—something lighter, something new. And for the first time since this whole mess started, he didn’t feel so trapped.
Over the next week, Draco did his best to give Harry space. By Friday morning, he decided he wanted to go around as Storm again. He told Pansy so she wouldn’t worry.
“Have fun, fluff-ball,” she said, blowing him a kiss.
He shook his head but didn’t bother arguing before transforming right there and scampering off to explore the castle on all fours again.
As he passed the Great Hall, he wondered if anyone would give him a fish. Curious, he padded inside, and much to his awe and pleasure, Hermione handed him one.
“It’s good to see you out and about, Draco. You gave us two scares. Don’t think you’re gonna live it down—I, for one, won’t let you,” she said, arching a brow.
Draco meowed, both in thanks for the fish and acknowledgment of her words. Figures that Harry would tell his closest friends.
Leaving the hall, he trotted down to the Quidditch pitch to enjoy his snack. Finding a spot in the middle of the field, he settled down and chomped on his fish, the cool morning air ruffling his fur as he savored the moment.
As Draco finished his fish, he flicked his tail lazily, enjoying the fresh air of the Quidditch pitch. It had been a while since he let himself relax like this, far from the constant tension of Hogwarts.
Or so he thought.
“I should’ve known you’d be out here.”
Draco’s ears perked up at the sound of Harry’s voice. He turned to see the Gryffindor standing at the edge of the field, arms crossed, but the teasing look on his face was a far cry from anger.
Draco hesitated, debating whether to scamper off, but decided against it. Instead, he stretched, feigning indifference as he looked back at Harry.
Harry raised an eyebrow. “Avoiding me all week, and now you’re out here, eating fish like a stray cat. You really know how to make an entrance, don’t you?”
Draco yawned lazily, ignoring the way Harry’s voice seemed to tug at his insides. He let his body flop onto the ground, his tail flicking in exaggerated indifference.
Harry chuckled, stepping closer. “You’re not fooling anyone, Malfoy. You think I didn’t know it was you? You were always just one whisker away from giving yourself away.”
Draco let out a little mewl of protest, then rolled onto his back, pretending to ignore Harry’s gaze.
Harry leaned in closer, his teasing voice softening. “So, pretending to be a cat to get out of our… conversation last week? Clever move, but I’m not buying it.”
Draco paused, his heart thumping a little too loudly for his liking. He could feel Harry’s presence far too strongly, a feeling he wasn’t quite ready to confront.
With a deep breath, Draco finally transformed, shifting back into his human form with a soft pop, his robes reappearing as he stood in front of Harry. He couldn’t keep hiding behind this charade anymore.
“I didn’t think you’d notice so quickly,” Draco said, crossing his arms defensively. His heart was still pounding, but he didn’t show it.
Harry stood there for a second, his mouth opening slightly in surprise. Then, his eyes narrowed, a playful grin tugging at his lips. “Yeah, well, it wasn’t hard to put two and two together, Malfoy. The way you acted? You’re not exactly subtle.”
Draco rolled his eyes, trying to hold onto some semblance of composure. “I wasn’t trying to be subtle,” he muttered. “I thought I could get away with a little peace and quiet for once.”
Harry’s grin only widened. “You think I’d let you get away with that? Really?”
Draco flushed a little, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “Okay, okay. You were right, I was avoiding you. But it’s complicated, alright?”
Harry took a step closer, eyes glinting with that familiar spark of mischief. “Complicated? Or just scared to face what you’ve been running from?”
Draco shot him a look. “I’m not scared.” He took a step forward too, their faces now mere inches apart. “I just—” He stopped himself, unsure how to continue.
Harry’s expression softened, and he seemed to sense Draco’s hesitation. “It’s alright, you know. I get it.” He gave a small, teasing smile. “Just don’t run off again as a cat. It’s harder to yell at you that way.”
Draco huffed, pushing at Harry’s shoulder lightly. “I’ll keep that in mind, Potter.”
Harry laughed softly, his eyes lingering on Draco with a look that made Draco’s chest tighten. “Good. You should. Now, let’s get inside before anyone else starts thinking you’re a stray.”
Draco’s heart skipped a beat, but he couldn’t suppress the small, amused grin that spread across his face. “I’m not a stray, Potter, and why would anyone want to take Draco Malfoy” he said, as he turned to walk beside him.
“I took you I wouldn't blame someone else for trying,” Harry teased, bumping his shoulder lightly. “You’re just a very charming stray.”
"I was a cat when you took me but sure," Draco rolled his eyes, but the smile didn’t leave his face. Maybe things weren’t as complicated as he thought. And Maybe the Amortentia was right.