A Furry Friend
Harry plodded along the cold stone floor of the castle corridors, his steps soft enough not to be picked up by his sensitive ears. The wall-mounted candles sent shadows dancing along the walls of the hall, and it was a delicate art to remain within them. Being seen invited all sorts of trouble. Fortunately for him, the candles were always quite dim at this time of night.
Particularly the sort that would involve a first or second-year chasing after him with their grubby hands itching to scratch at his soft fur. If caught, he would be stuck with them until he escaped. Being an unregistered animagus certainly had its disadvantages.
It'd happened once just a week after he'd managed his transformation, and he'd never allowed himself to be in that situation again. Whilst the girl had prodded at his nose repeatedly, Harry had still felt bad about clawing her finger. It'd been massively uncomfortable, and an experience he'd rather not repeat.
Sirius hadn't let him forget it for months, either.
He paused for a moment with a paw in the air, acutely aware of the tingling spot just below his left collarbone.
The momentary lapse in focus nearly exposed him, and he noiselessly leapt forward back into the shadows before the light could reveal him to a passing group of younger Ravenclaws.
Hogwarts didn't feel the same this year, and it wasn't because of Umbridge. If anything, he felt more alone than ever. The memories of last year's Third Task were still raw, not that anyone else was aware of the fact.
Harry's summer had been particularly difficult to get through, but he'd managed somehow. Dwelling on things that could not be changed was never healthy, and he'd made sure to force himself out of his rented Diagon Alley flat at least once a day.
The only other that was aware was Dumbledore, yet Harry had never been close to him. It was only through Sirius that he'd had any contact with the Headmaster.
He wasn't even entirely sure why he was still at Hogwarts, or what he should do now. Nevertheless, he persevered. There was no other option, for he would not accept failure. Neither would Sirius.
Another small group passed him, and he stilled in the shadows once more. Three Hufflepuff first-years hurried down the corridor, likely back to their common room.
Physical touch was something he'd always despised. He could not bear for others to continually put their hands on him, even if it was just a pat on the shoulder or brushing past him in a corridor. Roaming around as a cat, however, allowed him to stay hidden.
Harry also found he greatly enjoyed it. The cat's eyesight allowed him to pick out details in darker settings with ease, which would usually be invisible to the naked eye of a human. Yet, a far more delicate sense of smell occasionally worked against him. He'd avoided one particular corridor on the fourth floor for years due to that very reason.
Filch must be doing something wrong for a lavatory to be so repulsive, he thought.
It could almost be compared to flying a broom. A cat's form gave such freedom of movement he almost felt as if he were flying at times, particularly when he'd traipse around the upper floors of the castle, leaping from staircase to staircase. All his troubles seemed to disappear.
Even better, it kept Umbridge's attention off him. Being a week into term, he'd already had to sit through numerous of her dreadful classes and endure her glares. Not having said a word to her since term began, her animosity towards him left Harry somewhat confused, but largely indifferent.
Her attempts to goad him had fallen short at every attempt. Poorly veiled insults were not high on his list of priorities, nor would they get a rise out of him.
His eyes flicked towards the lone figure that had just rounded the corner ahead of him. There were scarce few that ever noticed him in this form, but she was one of them.
Greengrass, he thought.
He decided to humour her by flicking his tail into the light cast by the candle, failing to elicit a reaction. When she was closer, Harry leapt across to her side of the corridor, slinking into the shadows beneath a brazier.
She jumped slightly, letting out a gasp and dropping her bookbag. After several seconds of staring into the darkness, she pouted slightly, dropping to her knees to retrieve her books.
"That's not very nice of you," she muttered. "Least you could do is let me do is pet you for once."
To his dismay, Harry noticed she did not look like she'd had much sleep. Whilst undeniably still rather attractive, her usual glow was diminished, and she looked a bit thin. It was a sad sight that made him feel for the poor girl.
She must still be rattled from the first night back.
He hadn't wanted to get involved in anyone's affairs, let alone hers. He would be risking a great deal by 'taking a side' — something Harry had refrained from ever since he'd been sorted into Slytherin. The only side he was on was his own.
However, that only lasted until he'd seen his housemates assault the girl in the common room. Having dawdled on his short walk back from checking up on the Hogwarts kitchens after dinner, he arrived unnoticed at the perfect time to intervene.
Bullying was something he was disgusted by. His primary school days had ensured that much. Harry made sure to intervene whenever he saw it, though the vast majority of the time he did so in a manner that would not implicate him.
At the time, there was no other option, however. Something about her had spoken to him.
Harry felt another pang of sympathy for the dishevelled girl kneeling, her stockings the only thing protecting her knees from the hard floor. Her green Slytherin tie hung limply out in front of her from a starched white collar.
Making up his mind, he quietly padded towards her. The sixth-floor staircases could wait until tomorrow.
Greengrass looked up, her hand freezing as she reached for a book when she saw him approach. Harry noted that her eyes were a startling shade of blue.
Slowing down as he neared her, he bit down on the end of her tie and tugged at it gently.
"What do you want?" she whispered, a dimpled smile on her face.
Letting go of the tie, Harry made his way to where one of her books lay, nudging it back to her.
"Aww," she cooed, "aren't you precious?"
He wrinkled his nose at that, and Greengrass must've seen it, as she giggled. It was a surprisingly delightful sound that seemed to caress his eardrums. Sitting down and crossing her legs, she held a hand out hesitantly.
Her nails were perfectly manicured.
"Can I pet you?" she asked softly.
Harry nodded briefly, pushing his head into her knuckles. As much as he hated the idea of it, the sensation itself was rather pleasant. He couldn't stifle a purr as her fingers rubbed in between his ears, eliciting another laugh, leading to her palm flattening his ears to his head as she ran it down to his back.
He'd expected it to be far more uncomfortable. Yet, Greengrass' soft fingers were incredibly soothing, her careful motions causing him to purr further. Harry reluctantly drew away, and she made a noise of disappointment that quickly turned into a happy exclamation as he curled up next to her.
It was difficult to place, but she had a certain scent that almost made him feel drunk when he got too close. Perhaps she was one of the few who had noticed him repeatedly because he couldn't help but get closer.
He shelved that thought almost immediately.
Harry was alarmed when he felt her hands wrap around his small form and lift him, yet he forced himself to remain still, gazing up at her curiously.
Greengrass just smiled at him before placing him gently on her right shoulder. He was just small enough to fit on it comfortably, half-concealed by a curtain of blonde hair. The intoxicating scent made him aware of just how much danger he was in here if discovered, but Harry allowed himself to sink into it, lazily pawing at individual strands.
He was rewarded with another giggle.
Whilst his size had initially disappointed him when he'd first managed his transformation, it was very useful for remaining hidden. Though she'd probably be furious if she found out who he really was, the thought didn't bother him greatly at the moment.
At the moment, being hexed six ways to Sunday didn't seem too bad as a trade-off for this.
Greengrass stood and began to walk down the corridor, turning in the direction of the Slytherin common room. It suited him, so he made no effort to escape. Not that he wished to, either.
A figure turned the corner, and he rapidly changed his mind. Harry dropped into her top robe pocket, which was just large enough for him to conceal himself.
"Greengrass."
Harry recognised the voice as Malfoy's. He could almost picture the boy scrunching his nose as he said her name, his blonde hair slicked back comically.
"Malfoy," she replied neutrally.
"It's two minutes to curfew. You'd better get back, or I won't hesitate to report you to Snape," he said.
She snorted quietly, but he must've heard it.
"I'd warn you not to mock me, Greengrass. Need I remind you that I'm the fifth-year prefect? Or do you want a repeat of September 1st?"
Harry felt her tense as she passed him, her boots ringing against the stone floor.
"How did you get Potter in your pocket anyway?" he asked from behind her.
"I didn't," Greengrass replied, not faltering in her stride.
He became highly conscious of his position.
"We'll find out in time, don't you worry," Malfoy called after her.
Harry peaked his head up, out of the warm robe pocket, to make sure that they were heading the right way.
Greengrass let out the breath she'd been holding in, and the air ruffled his ears, which twitched involuntarily. He saw her smile as he turned, apparently having noticed.
She was scarily perceptive.
Descending the stairs into the dungeons, she walked for a few more minutes before reaching the Slytherin common room.
Greengrass crouched down before opening it, allowing him to slip out of her robe pocket. Holding out her hand at him, Harry saw her dimples appear again.
"Thank you," she whispered.
He pushed his head against her hand again, and darted off down the corridor, opting to return to his dorm later to not arouse suspicion.
It was beyond him why he'd allowed her to touch him, and even pet him, but he'd found the sensation to not be so bad. If anything, it was supremely comfortable, and shivers ran down his spine as he mentally replayed it.
Harry doubted he'd let anyone else do the same, though.
Upon reaching his destination, he glanced around. Seeing no one, he rapidly changed back and tickled the pear on the painting that concealed the entrance to Hogwarts' kitchens.
What had gotten into him?
Bracing himself as Dobby slammed into his shins, he pondered his actions. It was dangerous to get even remotely close to others in Slytherin, particularly those as embroiled as Greengrass in politics and familial affairs.
"What would Great Master Harry Potter like?" Dobby asked, speaking rapidly enough to make his head spin.
"Calm down, Dobby. Just some tea, please."
He grinned at the small elf as it rushed off back through the kitchen.
Harry followed it it through the large tables covered in food and cooking implements, sitting at his usual spot — a small, sequestered table in the back corner that Dobby kept set up for him. He'd heard of the house elf defending it vehemently when other elves had tried to move it, and it only endeared Dobby more to him. Though, he wouldn't blame them if they did eventually manage to clear it.
Dobby quickly made his way back with a silver tray, upon which rested a teacup, teapot, and a small pile of biscuits. The tray tilted dangerously as Dobby weaved his way in between the tables, ignoring the indignant exclamations of other house elves.
The little house elf never failed to cheer him up.
Thanking Dobby, Harry was eventually left to his thoughts again, idly sipping his tea. He had a few essays already that he should probably get done, not that they'd be a problem. The workload was already noticeably bigger, being his O.W.L. year.
Harry wondered just how Daphne would get by with the situation she was in. He'd been at rock bottom himself fewer times than he could count on one hand, though one of them was more recent than the others. Yet, he never liked to see people in that same situation he'd been in, especially if they didn't deserve it.
Maybe it wasn't so Slytherin of him, but he'd never given a toss about the Hogwarts houses. He'd just followed enough of the rules to remain under the radar until he could go back home.
Home.
The thought made his heart clench tightly. Harry grabbed the table to calm himself, forcing the rest of the tea down and placing it back heavily on the silver tray.
He didn't think he had an appetite for biscuits anymore.
Daphne let out a sigh as she fell back onto her bed, however this time it was more out of satisfaction.
The cat had finally allowed her to get close, and her fingers itched to run through the silky fur again. She briefly wondered if it had a name. Most cats she'd seen had always worn a collar, either to identify them or the owner. Yet, this one had never worn one.
Maybe its owner was a muggle-born? Daphne had no idea how they took care of their pets. Familiars? No, muggles didn't have familiars.
She wasn't sure if she'd ever find out but hoped the cat would allow her to get close again.
Some part of her once again desperately wished that she'd be able to see the world someday. As much as some of her housemates spouted off about muggle inferiority, the few glimpses she'd had of the muggle world had fascinated her.
King's Cross Station was near the top of the list. Though she and Astoria were always apparated in with their parents, the knowledge that King's Cross itself was muggle-built and run had always intrigued Daphne.
Glancing over at her small desk, her heart sank. The letter spread out upon it made her dread the end of term. Whilst Daphne was already sure she wanted to stay at Hogwarts over the holiday season, preferably using the excuse of study to justify it, she knew she'd just be prolonging her father's inevitable punishments.
He'd been furious with her for interfering, threatening to entirely cut the small inheritance she'd been left with. And that was only what he'd put into words. Daphne knew he had other punishments in mind.
It hadn't helped that her sister had given her the cold shoulder ever since the incident on the first day of term. She'd naturally been rather aloof ever since she came to Hogwarts, but Daphne had never experienced anything of this calibre from Astoria. The thought only served to tighten the icy fist around her heart.
She could not falter. There would be no second chance, no coming back if she did. Though things looked bleak, there was always a way out. There had to be.
What she now had to deal with was the further mess she'd made for herself. And Daphne couldn't blame anyone but herself. How was she meant to help her sister, when she didn't want to be helped?
The topic likely wouldn't go over well with Tracey, and she hadn't broached it with her due to that very reason. As much as Daphne had come to rely on the other girl, she couldn't heap her problems onto her. It was too personal. Daphne would also potentially be risking their friendship by getting her involved. Only then did it hit her that she'd used to not have a problem telling Tracey anything. Yet, much of their friendship was now built upon gossip and study.
Exhaling heavily again, she thought of Potter.
Why had he helped her? It hadn't made any sense.
He was notoriously difficult to find in the castle. He didn't have a record of helping others. And he certainly hadn't expressed anything to make her think he would jump to her defence. Nothing about him screamed 'generous,' 'noble,' or 'self-sacrificing.'
And yet he'd potentially placed himself in hot water to spare her.
Just something else to figure out, she thought grimly.
Though, as Daphne changed into her nightclothes, she couldn't fight off a grin at remembering her interaction with that cute little black cat with bright green eyes. It'd immediately lifted her mood, even if it had caused her to drop her books. She got the impression it could be quite mischievous if it wanted to, yet had a soft side too.
Slipping into bed, Daphne drifted off with a smile on her face.