His love for Potions I ✔

Chapter 20: The kitten and the dog

Harry had dropped by Professor McGonnegall's office to see if she was in - he halfheartedly wanted to tell her about the Grim and mostly wanted an excuse not to, when he heard Draco's voice. Harry had never yet resisted a prime opportunity to eavesdrop.

"I have had a letter from your father, Mister Malfoy. I understand congratulations are in order."

"Thank you, Professor McGonnegall," Draco said stiffly.

"Of course, I would have absolutely forbidden a student at your level from attempting - but I would have, apparently, been wrong. You must be very proud."

"...you haven't told anyone, have you?"

"Well, no. Certainly not."

A minute's silence.

"I see, Mister Malfoy. I understand entirely. And these things do change, with time. My lips are sealed."

Draco stalked out of her office, met Harry's eyes in a furious glare and hissed, "This is your fault."

Harry watched him go in absolute confusion, and just as Draco turned the corner at the end of the hall, was equally surprised to hear his usually prim and proper professor fall into giggles.

What had Draco done?

#

Harry was feeling detached enough at the next Potions class to let it all wash over him. Draco's taunts, Snape's sarcasm, the endless interplay....

They're showing off for each other, he thought in a sudden burst of icy clarity. Neither of them are this awful on this own, but put them both in a room with me and it's like it's a competition for Who Can Be Nastiest To Harry.

It put him in a bad enough mood during that evening's tutoring session, one of two he had each week, that he said, "If I don't do something at one of these evenings I'm going to go mad."

"I'm so glad you volunteered, Potter. End of term essays need to be checked. You may work on the first and second years."

After that, Harry was a lot quicker to join Ron's chorus of 'Slytherins: they are the worst.'

#

Harry couldn't go looking for Sirius Black, but he hadn't promised anything about Sirius Black coming to him. That was, if not his reason, perhaps his excuse for taking a walk near the castle's foot, enjoying the crisp snow on the ground and ignoring the voices in his head that sounded like Hermione and Ron and the professors. Those voices were better than remembering his mother's voice, begging. Almost anything was.

A shadow on the snow made him jump - something coming out of the shadows of the forest, moving low and dark and fast over the snow, and the sound of - barking? Yes, a dog barking. Harry watched in bemusement as he watched a dark, shaggy dog sprinting flat-out as if hell was on its tail. Eyes that were used to catching glints of gold across a whole Quidditch pitch finally brought what he was seeing into focus. A shaggy black dog was chasing a tiny white shape - a cat? No, a kitten-

A tiny white kitten.

Its - his - ears were flat back and his eyes were wild, and his white fur was puffed up so Harry couldn't see where cat ended and snow began. Desperately trying to remember a spell for dealing with animals, and reassuring himself that at least werewolves looked nothing like dogs, Harry bolted on an intercept course (even if it probably was Malfoy).

The kitten saw Harry and changed trajectory, scrambling up Harry's robes with a ear-splitting yowl and spitting at the dog from Harry's shoulder.

The dog looked into Harry's face, pinned his ears back, and whined piteously.

Harry resisted the urge to rub his forehead to push aside the impending headache.

"Easy, boy," he said to the dog. "You don't want to eat him. He'd taste awful."

The cat swatted at his ear. With claws.

"I mean, he's very elegant. Noble animals, cats."

The dog snorted doubtfully, flopping down in the snow in apparent despair and covering his nose with his paws. Harry squatted down gingerly and held out a hand.

"I'm sorry, boy. I'm sorry I thought you were a Grim, too." This did not appear to make the dog feel any better. "You look terrible." Again, no improvement. Harry wasn't sure what he was expecting. Draco appeared content to sit on his shoulder and pretend to be an actual cat. Unless it was an actual cat and Harry was going mad.

He'd end up freezing to death if he tried to figure this out out here, and then Sirius Black wouldn't even have to murder him.

"Come on, you two," Harry said, with a lightning-fast lunge to grab the dog's ruff. "I know the way to the Hogwarts kitchens, and you're both too thin."

The cat hissed at him softly, but didn't scratch him again, which Harry took as the only win he could get.

"If you bite me, I'm not talking them into giving you any ham pie," Harry informed the dog, on the theory that wizarding animals were often quite weird. It seemed to work, at least enough for the dog to scarf a whole pie and fall asleep by the fire.

The cat had a bowl of milk and then planted himself firmly in Harry's lap, pinning Harry there.

"You're going to make me late to Quidditch practice," Harry informed the kitten, which had dried out into an absolute little puffball. He was certainly going to be an elegant cat eventually, but right now all his legs were too long and he looked like nothing so much as a fur collar.

The cat flicked a white ear in apparent complete acceptance of Harry being late to Quidditch practice, as the House Elves bustled around them delighted to have people to serve.

"You know," Harry said, very aware that Draco had claws now, "You remind me of one of my classmates. His name's Draco. Sometimes we get along and sometimes we don't. He'd be fine with me being late for Quidditch practice, too."

The tip of the kitten's tail twitched. Harry resisted the urge to think it was cute. It was a good shape for Draco, he thought. Small, cute, and absolutely evil.

"But Draco knows I have really good blackmail on him," Harry continued quietly, so as not to wake the dog. "So he wouldn't try to make a fuss about it, especially since I saved him from being eaten by a dog ten times bigger than he is."

With incredible dignity, the cat got up and jumped down to land squarely on the dog, which startled awake with a savage growl.

"You are so terrible with animals," Harry hissed at Draco, tired and furious.

The cat refused to look at him, but one ear flicked. So he wasn't being ignored, was he?

Draco was a lot easier to like as a cat, Harry thought ruefully. Evil little beast.

"Next time I'm letting him eat you," Harry said severely, and with that, he went to Quidditch practice. Served Draco right.