𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐘 𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐌𝐀𝐆𝐔𝐒 2008

Ain't No Friend Of Mine (2/4)

Ain’t No Friend of Mine Part 2 of 4

By the next day, Potter seemed to have forgotten having any sympathy at all with Draco, because he woke up late, spent hours in the shower, and caused Draco to forget Potter was a psycho freak. In fact, he reduced Draco to whining at him from behind the door, because Draco really, really had to go, and when it got to that point, apparently the Dog Brain thought nothing else mattered.

Potter jerked open the bathroom door at Draco’s scratching, looking around half wildly, spraying water everywhere with his maniacal hair. Then, finally, he thought to look down, and his eyes widened with surprise.

Draco gave a sharp bark of remonstrance.

“Oh,” Potter said dumbly. “Oh, yeah. Okay. Just let me . . .”

He came out of the bathroom all wet, the idiot. Of course, he was a filthy Half-blood and obviously under-evolved, because civilized people know you use towels and don’t wander about naked like Neanderthals, God.

Potter went down the hall. Draco almost followed him; he had to go so bad and these humans, you had to follow them around because they were not very smart and needed to be reminded of your needs.

But that was the Dog Brain ticking. Potter was just going to get dressed—hopefully, if he could figure out civilized people did that, too. Anyway, Draco certainly didn’t need to see that and be scarred-for-life by Potter a second time.

Draco shifted from foot to foot. Strange, what a different process that was with four feet.

In under a minute Potter was dressed and grabbing his jacket and heading downstairs. He looked down at Draco as Draco rushed for the door. Potter smiled a little. “We’ll show you wrong, Ron.”

Say that three times fast, Draco glared. He barked again.

Potter kept the strange little smile and opened the door for Draco.

In seconds, Draco was in the little park across the street.

Potter came up as Draco was finishing up, still talking to people who weren’t there, like the raving lunatic he was. “Satisfied, Ginny?” he was saying. “He’s a boy.”

It was only then Draco realized he’d lifted his leg to urinate.

Speaking of Half-blood under-evolved Neanderthals, how come dogs didn’t wear clothes? Didn’t they know anything? And anyway, what kind of sick fascination was it, humans letting them wander around naked all the time? Civilized dogs didn’t do this, either! This was all Potter’s fault.

* * *

That wasn’t the half of it, though.

After eating and feeding Draco some of his breakfast, Potter said something about a bath.

Speaking of sick fascination, Potter was going to have to bathe him, and Draco may be naked but at least he was covered in hair and wasn’t wet. Getting bathed by Potter should have sounded repellant and insulting, and Draco should have backed away slowly.

But Draco didn’t care. None of these concerns held a candle next to his concern with being clean. Finally. In fact, the most distressing thing about any of it was discovering his tail.