Chapter 1
This is, quite possibly, the worst thing that has ever happened to Harry Potter. And a lot of things have happened to Harry Potter.
On your typical Saturday morning, Harry had been running late to breakfast - as was the usual - when he was stopped abruptly just outside of the great hall. There had been some third year Slytherin slinking behind him, and it’s not as if he hadn’t noticed him. He was intent on ignoring the stalker until his name had been called out.
Harry had spun around, a little exasperated. He was met with a wand pointed at him indignantly, and a shaky but present smirk on the boy’s narrow, pointy face.
He’d barely had enough time to raise an eyebrow before a spell was being chanted and the wand spun around in a pattern. Wisps of colour circled from the boy and collided with Harry in the blink of an eye. It was almost impressive that a third year Slytherin could get to him before Voldemort. Almost, that is, until he started feeling a sickening shrinking sensation.
Try saying that five times fast.
Sickening shrinking sensation, sickening shrinking sensation, sickening-
A small gasp poured out of him as he crumbled to the ground, his body convulsing and - what the hell was that?
The boy’s eyes widened unnaturally.
“Oh god.” He’d exclaimed to no one but himself. “I’ve killed Harry Potter.”
Now, Harry knows what dying feels like - and this definitely isn’t it. But why the hell does that third year look so big? He couldn’t describe it, but everything felt different.
“I’ve... I’ve...” The boy stumbled around, his legs shaking. He had begun pacing, rubbing his hands on his head, panicking. Harry moves about, realising in slight horror that he no longer has hands.
He has paws.
Harry tests out his new limbs and, upon believing he is ready, bolts out of the cloak he was currently sat under. Belatedly, he manages to remember that he shouldn’t be leaving his wand behind.
The kid doesn’t seem to notice the small animal leave and quickly scoops up Harry’s clothes, rushing away.
It isn’t long before Harry starts to panic. What the fuck am I?
He races towards the Great Hall before stopping. No one would recognize him. And if that stupid git never confesses what he did - would he - would he be stuck like this forever?
Harry crumbled into himself, sitting down in the middle of the hallway. He felt utterly hopeless.
Just as he was beginning to get the idea of attempting to use his paws to write a note somehow, he heard a squeal behind him.
“Omg! A rat!” Came the female voice. Harry paled. I’m a rat?
He had turned towards the alarmed voice, seeing a very shocked and very pale looking Pansy Parkinson.
“Oh,” She says, a little softer. “Oh you’re not a rat!”
Harry was horrified as he watched the Slytherin smile. Well? What the bloody hell am I then? Harry had thought impatiently.
Harry watched Pansy’s face as it softened considerably. “Ah, you’re so cute!” Harry could feel himself blush, despite himself.
The Slytherin walked towards him then, and before he’d properly had the time to react, she’d picked him up in one foul swoop. Harry resisted, feeling lightheaded as he was carried at a great distance from the floor.
“Come on little guy, I have an idea.” Pansy had smiled, in what Harry felt was a highly suspicious manner.
And that is how, currently, Harry finds himself being thrown into the Slytherin boys dorm room.
“Oh, Draco will just find you adorable.” She’d laughed. “Or he’ll hex you. Either or.”
Harry was glad to be out of that wretched girl's hands, but he was soon terrified. Pansy had seen herself out, leaving Harry alone in the Slytherin’s dorm, completely and utterly trapped.
Fuck.
Couldn’t this have happened after breakfast?
-
Harry has been left alone for hours now, which he can only determine by the state of the sun setting outside. His only solace is in believing that his friends must certainly be looking for him by now and will any minute burst through the door.
When someone opens the door, Harry is prepared to bolt, until his eyes carry up the body in front of him to find a particularly tired looking Draco Malfoy. It is just as Harry notices who it is that the Slytherin jumps back, startled. A panicked scream escapes his mouth as he falls back on the door, effectively ruling escape out of the picture. Malfoy seems to recover quickly, however, turning his shock into a snarl.
“What are you looking at, rodent?”
Harry can feel himself shrivelling up in what feels like embarrassment. Of course it had to be Malfoy that found him in this state. At the moment, he’d have rathered just about anyone else. For fucks sake, it would have been better if it were Snape.
Oh, thinking about Snape brought back just a little too much from the war. Forget about that thought.
There is a look on the gits face, almost as if he’s been personally offended by the animal's presence, which Harry finds slightly amusing. Malfoy brushes his robes sheepishly and steps to the side.
“Well?” He says impatiently, his arms crossing over his chest with a defiant snarl stretching across his face. “Get lost.”
I would, gladly, if you could be so kind as to open the fucking door, thanks.
Malfoy scowls, pointing at the small animal before him as though it were a mudblood. “Leave, you stupid rodent.”
Harry scurries towards the door, tapping on it, before looking back up at Malfoy expectantly. Unfortunately, the message is lost on the idiotic blonde who only succeeds in scowling more.
“Oh don’t give me that look. The way I see it - you got yourself in here, you’re bloody capable of getting yourself out. And if you can’t, I suppose this would be a lesson learned - in which case, you should thank me.”
Harry finds the fact that Malfoy speaks to an animal in the same tone as a human incredible. The befuddled Gryffindor gives his best attempt to glare at the git before tapping on the door again furiously.
Malfoy doesn’t seem to care, however. “Well then, if you’ll excuse me.”
Harry watches as the boy recedes farther into the room and climbs onto one of the beds in the back. Malfoy takes out his homework and silently begins reading.
Not sure what to do, Harry frowns. He looks back up at the door, glaring at nothing in particular. I could annoy Malfoy until he has no choice but to kick me out, Harry thinks hopefully.
Harry hesitantly turns back towards his enemy and runs the seemingly far distance over to him. He finds his new limbs to be highly uncooperative and nearly trips over himself twice. He arrives at the foot of Malfoy’s bed, ignoring every inappropriate joke running through his mind, when he realises that he has a problem. How the bloody hell is he supposed to get up there?
Worse than that is the idea that Harry’s current goal in life is to get on Malfoy’s bed. The Gryffindor shudders, pushing that particular thought far away as he focuses on the task at hand.
He hardly feels capable of jumping the distance with his long, lanky body. He reaches out one of his paws experimentally, finding that he has claws. He uses them to hoist himself up and climb up the bedspread, not caring in the least if he were to, say, accidentally leave claw marks.
Harry looks over to Malfoy, who currently has his nose in a book, unaware of the trespasser. By the time the Slytherin notices Harry, he’s already succeeded in grabbing a piece of parchment from his open notebook in his mouth and biting off the corner.
Malfoy cocks an eyebrow. “Back, are we?”
Harry pays the Slytherin no mind as he continues attempting to rip apart the notebook in front of him.
“I guess you really don’t like Arithmancy.” The blonde chuckles. The futile attempts Harry’s been making to sabotage Malfoy are halted when he hears the curious noise. Malfoy, laughing? I didn’t know it was possible.
“You know, you’re kind of ...” Malfoy seems to have a hard time expressing the thought on his mind, before deciding it doesn’t need to be vocalised. He tilts his head and watches the adorable creature, amused.
Currently, Harry is running around, trying to seem like a maniac, desperately attempting to convey the message “I have rabies”, or, at the very least, “I’m a crazy rodent that can’t be trusted and you should kick me out immediately”.
“If that’s what I’d looked like as a ferret,” Malfoy continues, to himself, “it’s no wonder everyone falls for me.”
Harry pauses.
I’m a fucking ferret?! And, Harry realises in his continual horror, is he trying to say that I’m cute? That is not acceptable! That’s outrageous! The rational part of Harry’s mind reminds him that it’s not Harry he’s calling cute, but it doesn't matter.
Harry wobbles over to the Slytherin, intending to bite one of his pointy little fingers off, when he trips over his own feet.
Malfoy snorts, a grin enveloping his face. Harry realises he’s never seen Malfoy’s face do anything but sneer or smirk. This was... different. He looks away hastily as if the sight weren’t meant for him. And really, it wasn’t.
Harry quickly decides that he needs to amp up his game and get out of here, immediately. Clearly Malfoy isn’t being himself, or maybe he was terminally ill - either way, it’s wise to leave as soon as is possible. The best course of action to piss off the blonde quickly may be to disturb his reading. The problem, Harry soon recognizes, is that the git is holding his book high up in the air - or what seems like it, anyways, and Harry is fairly sure he can’t jump that far.
Or, he realises hopefully, he could probably get to it if he climbs onto Malfoy - Harry shudders. Oh god. No. That can’t happen. If for whatever reason Malfoy ever finds out who this ferret was-
Well, Harry reasons, he probably won’t find out. Plus, once he’s kicked out, he’ll have a better chance at surviving. And if he does, for whatever reason find out, he’ll just have to claim temporary insanity.
Harry takes a deep breath and stealthily ambles towards Malfoy’s knee. He unconsciously sniffs it, not pausing to psychoanalyze the action, before he places his front paws up and tries to jump.
Malfoy looks down at the sudden intrusion. Horrified, he pushes the ferret off.
“Hey!” Malfoy says, shocked. Harry’s sure he’s hit a nerve and is proud of his accomplishment until he hears the git giggling. “That tickles.”
Harry makes sure to remember that Malfoy’s knees are ticklish and to torture him with it, somehow. Although that would mean that Harry would have to tickle Malfoy and Harry pushes the mental image of such an occurrence straight out of his head and into a metaphorical waste bin.
Malfoy looks down at the little guy, his heart warming slightly. “What were you trying to accomplish there, rodent?” Harry squirms into himself, decidedly not looking back up at him.
Harry can hear Malfoy sigh before suddenly he feels a large mass on his back. He looks over his shoulder and to confirm his terror - Malfoy has rested a hand on him! That’s it, I’m going to kill him.
Harry tries to squirm out of his reach and Malfoy lets him go. Malfoy merely shakes his head, returning to his book.
Harry sighs. Annoying the git is going to be trickier than I’d thought. His stomach growled suddenly. God, he’d almost forgotten that he hasn’t eaten all day.
Malfoy’s head looks up lazily. “What, are you hungry or something?”
Aside from the small embarrassment that Malfoy had heard his stomach growl, Harry can’t help it if his ears perk and his head nods excitedly. An animalistic instinct, you see. Survival during ferret phase may just mean schmoozing food off of a Slytherin. It’s probably not the most embarrassing thing he’s ever done, anyways.
Malfoy shakes his head, still smiling. When he moves to stand up, the bed becomes a sea as it protests the movement. Harry nearly falls over. When he finally catches his balance, Harry is suddenly assaulted with his entire vision being taken up by Malfoy’s butt. Or, at least, that’s what it felt like. He looks away, blushing angrily.
Malfoy returns quickly, a sherbet lemon in hand. He doesn’t set the candy down after unwrapping it, however. He takes a small bite of it, and to Harry’s horror, holds the rest of it in his hand out for him.
No way. Harry concludes. I am not eating out of Malfoy’s hand. And I’m definitely not finishing something that he’s started eating.
“Come here.” Malfoy coaxes, wiggling his fingers at the animal.
Twat. Harry throws his nose in the air, refusing to look at Malfoy. Screw survival.
“Come on, it’s pretty good.” Malfoy soothes, taking another small bite of it before resting it back in his hand.
This for some reason angered Harry. He was starving, after all, and the small bit of food presented to him was steadily deteriorating. Harry was conflicted. He couldn’t possibly eat something out of Malfoy’s hand - that had a bite taken out of it by said Slytherin, no less. But then again, if he didn’t eat soon Harry feared he might pass out.
Okay, that’s a little dramatic. But still. Life or death.
Harry cursed. For the sake of his livelihood, Harry determines that eating out of Draco Malfoy’s hand is necessary. Yeah. That’s the story if anyone asks.
Inching forward, Harry hoped that he wouldn’t have to get too close before the blonde would drop the candy and continue working and then maybe Harry could just find a different way out of here.
He was wrong.
Malfoy smiled as the ferret neared him. As soon as he was close enough, Harry lifted his front paws onto Malfoy’s hand - planning on biting the candy and running off with it - only to find that his mouth was so small that such an endeavor seemed nearly impossible. Harry angrily bit into the side that Malfoy hadn’t, pretending that his dignity was still completely intact and that this wouldn’t change anything. He tried his best to glare at Malfoy before taking another bite.
When he wasn’t looking, Malfoy reached around with his other hand and pet the ferret. Harry tensed immediately. Eating out of Malfoy’s hand was one thing- but being pet by-
Oh. Harry closed his eyes. That felt good. He’s pretty sure that if ferrets could purr then he would be making a lot of noise at the moment.
Dammit. Harry opened his eyes again, peaking up at the Slytherin who was idly smiling down at him.
“Maybe ‘rodent’ doesn’t suit you all that well.” Malfoy murmured to himself. “I should think of something better.”
Harry wanted to hex him, or something. He just couldn’t really think all that much when he felt so damned happy. Surely it’s the animalistic instincts that prevent me from hating what should be such a sickening endeavour, Harry consoled himself.
Malfoy continues absentmindedly petting the ferret in front of him, a content smile on his face.
When Harry’s eaten all that hasn’t touched Malfoy’s lips - Harry shudders, again - he backs off. Malfoy, however, doesn’t seem to be done with him. Before Harry can process what is happening, Malfoy’s hand - the one that had previously been petting him - is wrapped around him and he’s being hauled up and over - right onto Malfoy’s lap.
Merlin. Harry thought, dizzy.
Just as Harry is about to jump for freedom - realizing a little too prominently just how close he is to Malfoy’s certain area- that damned magical hand is back. Harry feels immobilized by happiness again.
I have to get out of here, Harry thought wildly. I have to-
Hmph. Harry’s eyes nearly roll in the back of his head when Malfoy begins stroking the underside of his chin. Who knew that would feel so good? Harry decides, belatedly, that he’ll allow himself to enjoy this for a short while before planning an escape.
Except that he hadn’t planned on falling asleep. In Draco Malfoy’s lap.
Merlin.
-
Harry wakes up, completely disoriented. For a moment he has forgotten all about the “incident”. But then he realizes where he is and why he’s being woken up.
Harry has just been dumped, rather rudely, away from Malfoy. The blonde had heard footsteps coming and didn’t want anyone to see him cuddling a rodent. Harry blinks, lazily wondering what time it is.
The door opens, and rather suddenly, they are no longer alone.
Zabini, with Crabbe and Goyle striding in tow, saunter through the door. They all chat about nothing in particular before making way to their beds.
“Oy, Draco.” Zabini says just as he lands on his bed.
The Slytherin sitting next to him acknowledges his classmate simply by turning his head with a nod.
“You’re here early.” Crabbe states.
“Yes, well, it had been a peaceful studying room before you lot showed up.” Malfoy says, but Harry is surprised not to find the usual sneer behind his voice. He actually sounds... almost, anyways, like a normal person joking amongst friends.
Zabini chuckles. Again, something Harry’s not sure he can get used to.
“Missed you at dinner, is all. Pansy decided to steal your seat beside me for the evening and I have absolutely no idea where you find the patience to put up with her all the time.” Zabini says.
Malfoy shakes his head. “Hey, that’s my best friend you’re talking about there. Watch it.”
If Harry is being honest, he had expected that Malfoy would go against his friend to laugh alongside whoever is in the room. Loyalty? It seems as though Harry is learning more about Malfoy than he’d care to admit.
“Some best friend you are - leaving her alone for an entire meal. Do you know how -” Zabini is cut off as he notices the small ferret sitting idly beside his friend. “Is that a ferret?”
As if he’d forgotten that he was even there, Harry blinked uncertainly. Zabini tumbles off his bed and makes his way over to the fluffy creature, excited. He reaches out a hand to pet the ferret and Harry instantly reacts to the intrusion by biting him. Zabini recoils, horrified.
“Who let such a wild animal in here?” He groans, inspecting his hand for blood.
Malfoy laughs. “I don’t think he likes you.”
Damn right I don’t.
“Oh yeah, and I bet he’s taken such a great liking to you then?” Zabini asks, a pout evident on his features.
Malfoy looks over at the ferret, as if debating something. Harry blinks.
“Well, he hasn’t bit me yet.”
Zabini snorts. “Some pet.”
Harry glares at Zabini before settling down. He still felt remarkably sleepy. A quick look out the window confirmed Harry’s suspicions of the sun being completely whisked away.
He should be trying to escape. Perhaps waiting by the door incase any other Slytherin’s were to come in, granting him the chance to escape.
Instead, Harry’s eyes began to close involuntarily. He felt cold, oddly. It’s not like he could just throw a blanket on himself - he was a fucking ferret, after all.
Harry watched, feeling utterly helpless and stupid as Malfoy stood. He watched as the blonde neatly put away all of his schoolwork and pulled out pyjama bottoms from his trunk and -
Oh. Harry watched, wide eyed and probably a little too curiously, as Malfoy tore off his jumper and replaced his black pants with silk pyjama bottoms. Malfoy didn’t put on another shirt and Harry wasn’t sure why that left his stomach doing backflips.
A chill ran through Harry’s spine - damn Slytherin dungeons - just as Malfoy picked up the comforter and slid into his bed. Harry was a little off balanced by the movement, but once he was upright again, found himself padding over to Malfoy.
This is definitely the stupidest thing I’ve ever done.
Malfoy watched as the ferret had difficulty navigating the now rural landscape of his comforter. He reached out a hand, with mild amusement, and picked up the rodent.
Harry felt his stomach drop when he was lifted into the air but then he was suddenly very, very comfortable. He was asleep in an instant.