Operation: Drarry

Chapter 8

"What time is it?" Potter asked suddenly. I was wondering that as well, feeling rather hungry.

Ganger looked down at her watch on her wrist, shifting Crookshanks so she can do so, before answering with, "Almost half past twelve. Should we head down for lunch?"

There were mummers and nods of agreements, all saying that they were starting to get hungry, Weasley complaining about not having eaten anything since breakfast.

"What about Gandalf?" asked Weasleyette, looking down me with her stupid brown eyes filled with concern.

"What about him?" Ganger questioned, setting her evil cat down.

"Well, we can't leave him here with him." Here she looks down at the orange cat with distrust; pulling me closer to her and making me squirm again, trying to get away.

"Well, we'll just have to bring him with us," stated Ganger. Brilliant! Now I can escape! I soon realised that this was most probably Crookshanks' idea all along, that sneaky fat cat.

"But what if he runs away?" Potter asked, and I could just slap him for asking that question.

There was a short silence where everyone thought about this little problem, me pleading that they wouldn't find a solution. Then, horror of all horrors, Weasley suggested, "Why not just put a collar on him?"

They all nodded as if this was the best thing that they have ever heard (and being who they are, it most probably was), but to the great Slytherin mind, such as mine, it was a completely, seriously bad idea. Not only was it bad to put a collar around me as if they owned me, but where the hell were they going to find a collar? This thought reassured me. I was safe. For a little while at least.

"I can transfigure one. I did it for Crookshanks last year but he didn't like it all that much," shrugged Ganger, once again ruining all my plans.

"That's because it was red!" shouted said cat, glaring from his perch on the arm of the couch closes to us.

I snickered quietly to myself. "That must have gone horrible with your fur."

"Of course, that's why I got it off," he answered, his tail twitching.

Unfortunately, I was too busy smirking at the obviously irritated Crookshanks to notice Ganger's hand coming towards me, therefore it came to a surprise to me when she clipped something rather cold around my neck. I jumped at the contact but it was too late to get away, she had put on the collar.

"There," said Granger, sounding satisfied.

"What colour is it?" I asked worriedly, twisting my head this way and that, trying to see it.

"Red, of course, you are in Gryffindor territory, are you not?" said a very smug Crookshanks.

"Get it off, get it off, get it off!" I cried, scratching at this awful thing.

"Mmm," said Crookshanks, pretending to think. "No." He jumped off the couch and strutted out of the room.

"Now, let's go eat!" declared Weasley in that obnoxiously loud voice of his, grinning like the idiot he is.

Potter nodded and held out his hand towards me, that stupid grin on his face and trying to coax me into his hands and away from She-Weasley. I went gladly, thankful to no longer being surrounded by freckle hands and ginger hair, at least from not that close of a distance. I got comfortable in his arms as he cradled me, my eyes closing for a moment as the rest of them headed to the Great Hall.

Pansy

I let out a depressed sigh. I was currently crouched down, my weight mostly on my heels, looking under desks in an abandoned classroom somewhere in the Dungeons, absolutely no sign of Draco in the past hour.

"It's hopeless," I wailed, slowly giving up hope and thinking that I should just tell Nott and get the bloody gloating over with.

I glanced at him and just in time catch him rolling his eyes at me, me giving him a glare in return. He sighed and straightened up from where he was bending slightly, looking behind a curtain.

"It's okay Pansy, everything will be fine."

"No, it won't," I insisted, standing up and placing my hands on my hips. "We need to find him. And quick."

"But Hogwarts is huge, and he could be anywhere," Nott complained, rubbing a hand over his forehead.

"Well, you should have thought of that before you let him escape," I stated, holding my head slightly higher.

"For the last time Parkinson, I'm sorry; I didn't know he'll bolt at the first opportunity he would get."

"Sorry isn't going to get my kitty back, now is it?"

He sighed, closing his eyes for awhile before fixing me a pleading look. "Can we at least get lunch first? Please."

I bit my bottom lip, thinking. I was a little hungry, and you can't search properly on an empty stomach, can you? And I'm sure wherever Draco is, he'll be fine. Hopefully.

"Yeah, okay, but straight afterwards we go back looking, okay?"

Nott nodded. "Promise."

Please forgive me Draco.