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The Kitten Prince Of Slytherin

Watching his two friends play near the water's edge, Draco suddenly felt small and invisible. It was like he was living in a world that he no longer recognized. It may have been a matter of mastering his animagus, but how long would his friends wait before they actually left him behind?

Still smarting from Blaise's dismissal, Draco turned on his heel and stormed toward the castle, missing the sad look that his friends shot at his retreating back.

"Today," Draco pledged aloud. "It's happening today."

*~*

"Dammit!" Draco shouted, his blond hair falling in his eyes as he threw a mini-tantrum that would make any toddler proud.

He marched over to the lake, searched out his reflection, and fumed. There was only a soft patch of white-blond fur on his right cheek. Well, at least that meant no birds or toady-scaly-type creatures, and for that Draco was grateful.

"Oh god," Draco gasped. What if he was a ferret? If he was, he would just die.

Without consent, an image of Potter's green eyes flitted across his mind. Rarely did Draco feel like he was seen anymore-it was like he could stand in a crowd full of people, but all they saw was blond hair and a faded tattoo on his arm.

Only when Potter looked at him, his searching gaze boring into Draco's very core, did he feel like himself. He felt worth something-something more than stares and whispers and tripping jinxes and-

"Not being able to fucking transform!" the blond shouted and stormed back and forth in a line, crushing the grass underneath him and sending stray rocks flying. He prowled for a few minutes longer until his forehead glistened with a light sheen of moisture-in no way did Draco Malfoy sweat like some plebian.

Unlike Potter who walked around red-faced and sweaty most of the time. Granted, Draco usually saw the Gryffindor after a Quidditch pickup game or lessons with Granger. Still, only cavemen like Potter and Weaslebee went around dirty and unkempt. How Granger could handle being around them was beyond him. Maybe they secretly clubbed her over the head to inebriate her idiot-radar?

The blond snickered and plopped onto a rock nearby feeling exhausted and not the kind that a good night's sleep could fix.

Why couldn't he get this?

Not for the first time, Draco wondered what animals the Golden Trio had transformed into.

He hoped that Weasley was a slug or a worm or a Blast-Ended Skrewt.

And Potter?

Draco ran a slightly shaking hand through his blond hair and chewed on the inside of his cheek-what did it matter what animal Potter was? It's not like Draco would find out anytime soon.

"Dammit," he blurted again for the sake of relieving some frustration and roughly scrubbed at his face with his hands. "Just clear your mind," he whispered soothingly and clamped his eyes shut. "Forget about everything around you. Forget about the castle and the professors, and Gryffindorks, and speccy gits."

Unbidden, an image of Potter from that morning flashed across the back of the blond's eyelids. He had been smiling at Weasley and Granger, his eyes vulnerable-the joy that radiated from his smile was so all consuming and encompassing that Draco wanted to be the reason for that smile. It had made a gentle warmth settle in his heart and spread throughout his body.

Even hours later, the expression on Potter's face made Draco's skin tingle-

Wait a second.

That wasn't a memory causing that reaction in Draco-and boy wasn't he grateful that he wasn't harbouring some sort of feelings for the idiot Gryffindor.