CATastrophe

CATastrophe

File the Fourth: I AM RELAXED!!!

Draco Malfoy was depressed. He was lying on Weasley's lap and he was deadly depressed. The Weasel fondled his hair, he was lying on his lap and he couldn't have been more depressed, even if he had desperately tried to.

'Desperate'; yes that was the right word. Draco Malfoy was desperate. And the truly terrifying thing was that he wasn't desperate about what was already described. Yes, there was something even worse about the situation then was already described. What was worse, was that actually, the Weasel wasn't massaging his Weasley germs into Draco's hair, but... into Draco's fur. Or better into Looposh's fur, as Draco the Cat had been kindly christened by Weasley and Granger mere twenty-four hours ago.

He had spent the last twenty-four hours trying to relax enough to be able to turn back into his handsome human self. He had tried everything to find relaxation. He had even thought about his beloved photo album full of photos of the most beautiful creature... er human, he knew - himself.

But how are you supposed to focus on beautiful things when you are surrounded by so much... so much... Gryffindor?!

In the evening he had tried to flee the Gryffindor tower. But did you know how scary the castle was at night? It was cold and creepy - not that he feared anything! No! Of course not! But...well...anyway, it had been cold! And he couldn't relax on cold floors.

So he had returned to Gryffindor tower and had endured a little more 'Looposh here' and 'Looposh there'; although, for as much as Weasly could spill his infantile blabbering over him, he at least knew how to present his little 'honeypuh' with acceptable food.

The night, of course, had been an uncomfortable one. With Potter gone, unable to act as Draco's mattress - this was the only thought to cheer Draco up in these dark, dark, dark - f***! Purr - Weasley stop doing - purr! - this! You are disrupting - Purr! - my precious train of thoughts! - Purr!

So again! With Potter gone, unable to act as Draco's mattress Draco had nowhere to sleep but on the floor. Why, you may say, now he had Harry's whole bed to himself. How very wrong you are! Or you may point out that Ron might have allowed 'Looposh' to sleep at the foot of his bed. Yes, by then Draco was even so far past sane, he would have actually agreed. He would have slept in Weasley's bed. See how bed... er bad! the situation already was? Draco Malfoy would have agreed to sleep in Ronald Weasley's four-poster!!! 'So what, then, is the problem?' you may ask. You smart-ass! The problem was that this insufferable redheaded git of a brainless Gryffindor oaf wasn't actually staying in his room that night! No! The lucky little bastard had a girlfriend! Okay, scratch the lucky. The girlfriend was Granger after all. But the point was that that horny little sex maniac - er... I mean, debauchee - was going to spent that night in the private chamber of his precious girlfriend!!! (Draco made a mental note to play this particular piece of information in the right hands at the right time.) And the precious little flower forbade her boyfriend to allow 'Looposh' in their...her bed. Yes, she actually forbade him - Draco knew who was wearing the pants in this relationship!

But when Draco thought it couldn't be worse, Hermione grabbed him without warning around the belly ("Meeeeeeeeeeeooooooow!").

"What do you want to do with him?" Weasley had asked.

"I don't want him to be in the room tonight."

"Why?"

'Yes, Why?'

"He might watch us."

And with this Draco's stomach gave a nasty turn and she threw him into the bathroom and closed the door.

So Draco had been forced to sleep - or rather try to sleep - on a hard bathroom floor, listening to... listening to... sounds!

Draco had had to listen to these sounds! for quite a while. Eventually they faded to silence, but echoed in the poor kitty's head. Therefore the little sleep he got was haunted by... nightmares. Nightmares of the worst kind. Too horrible to put into words.

The next shock had come, when he woke up, he hopped onto the sink to have a look in the mirror and saw... a fluffy white, dobby-eyed kitty with a squashed face. He fell straight from the sink - for the first time in his life, maybe for the first time in the history of his noble family, Draco, a Malfoy, had fainted.

As he lay there unconscious on the floor, Hermione with a broad grin on her face, removed the photograph from the mirror.

"Good morning, Looposh, you vain little creature!"

When Draco had recovered from this mean, almost Slytherin-worthy trick - actually, on second thought, he would never be able to recover from it fully - he had walked straight out of that toilette and out of that doomed tower of evil and headed for the toilette where he had hidden his clothes to give it another go. He had practically plastered the picture of his flawless, sexy human body onto the inner side of his eyelids. He had concentrated on it. Concentrated on the wonderful thought to again be able to comb that wonderful hair of his. Concentrated on how damn good he looked in his favourite green pullover, but... then the sounds! had again invaded his poor suffering mind. And the 'reflection' in the mirror. And the fact that he was full of Weasley germs and then... then he had started to scratch himself desperately and gone was his concentration and the wonderful picture of... well, himself!

Defeated - and hungry - he had to return to Gryffindor tower, where he was currently lying on Weasley's lap. And... did I ever mention that he was depressed? Well, let's just say he was.

The Weasel on the other hand was truly happy. He was developing the utmost skill in any imaginable kind of fur-fondling... well... imaginable! And Draco slowly gave into his fate. Tomorrow the weekend would be over. He had to be in classes tomorrow. Tomorrow at the latest his housemates and the teachers would notice his human absence, and how was he going to explain it? Even in the case that he ever would be capable of human language again. Draco gave a deep agonized sigh.

"Yes, you like that, Looposh, don't you? Look, Herm, if I do this he sighs!"

As Draco's eyes widened for a moment - he had only now spotted which peculiar place Weasley's hand was approaching -, Hermione turned lazily to look at them.

"Nice," she said dryly.

"Come on, Herm," Ron said in a sweet sort of voice, "You have to admit that he's cute. I mean, I don't know if you noticed, but since Harry is in the infirmary, Looposh seems somehow truly upset. He must be a very sensible animal."

You are mistaking result for reason, Weasel.

"Ron, you don't really expect me to pity the little devil. He might have killed Harry!"

Draco started to purr contently.

Too much tribute, Granger. But thanks. I couldn't have done it without you.

"You know very well that he didn't mean to hurt Harry. He... loved him too much, I'd say." Hermione made a disgruntled sound and Looposh purred, as Draco sniggered uncontrollably. Unexpectedly Ron grabbed Draco around the belly and gently put him aside on the bed.

Hey!

Draco couldn't help but feel displeased. It had been so purry warm on Weasley's lap. The sheets were cold! And why the heck did the Weasel stop stroking him?

Ron patted his lap, looking over at Hermione. "Come here, honey," he said soothingly, "We can - " He was about to say, 'visit Harry later.', when Draco suddenly hopped on his lap again and began to purr loudly. Both Ron and Hermione stared at the cat.

"He meant me, you stupid animal," Hermione snapped at Draco...Looposh, "I am his honey!"

But Draco didn't listen. He was back on that warm lap and soon Weasley would certainly start to fondle his fur again. Fondle his fur again... fondle his fur again...

It took Draco quite a while until he noticed what he was thinking about. His eyes widened in horror! Too stunned to react quickly enough, however, he found his chance to jump and run for it had passed all too soon, as Weasley had indeed restarted to... fondle his fur.

(And a the voice of the almighty narrator could be heard, 'Mind your wishes. They might come true.' This narrator person is a smart ass.... °__^)

Draco tried to push the horror aside. Hadn't he had enough shocks for one weekend?! Instead, he concentrated on Granger's thoroughly jealous face. A truly soothing picture.

"Ron! You called me over! Why are you stroking him again now?!"

"He was faster," Ron said, plainly too absorbed into Draco's mesmerising purrs to come up with a smarter answer. Hermione looked daggers at him and the cat on his lap.

But right now, Draco was too comfortable where he was to even find glee in Granger's anger. He had his eyes closed and kept on purring, too absentminded to notice how he was turning around on Ron's lap, presenting him his belly to be fondled and stroked. Looposh had taken over! For one moment Draco was thoroughly catish!

"Oh look, Herm! Isn't that cute? He presents his belly to me. I've read cats only do so if they trust you completely. It's their most vulnerable spot, you know."

"Of course, I know, Ron. You read that in my book!" She still looked down contemptuously at the little creature. Okay, maybe he looked somehow cute now, but still... "And anyway, to me he looks more like cheese gone bad rotting in the sun."

But Ron didn't seem to listen. Was he humming 'Like Ice in the Sunshine'?

Draco felt a wonderful relaxed feeling spread through his body. His entire body started to prickle all over.

This feels so goooooooooood!

Ron took him gently from his lap and placed the dizzy looking cat on its feet.

"Doesn't he look relaxed?" he said, as he pulled Hermione on his still cat-warm lap.

"As I said. Relaxed as rotten cheese, gone all glibly in the sun."

Ron placed a little kiss on her mouth. "I think he looks relaxed."

Relaxed... yeahhh...

The prickling feeling still remained in Draco's body.

Sweet relaxation...

Even the horrible sound of the two people kissing in the room, didn't truly reach him.

Relaxed...

Then it shot like a bullet through his mind.

I AM RELAXED!!!

Draco shot away through the gap in the door and out of the room, down the stairs and out of Gryffindor tower, through the hallways and into the bathroom, while the prickling increased and increased. He had barely crossed the threshold, as he suddenly found him crawling naked on the floor.

As he stood up and looked down at his wonderful, indescribably beautiful body again, he couldn't help but fling his arms around himself. A tear of happiness slid down his cheeks. He couldn't believe his luck! He had relaxed enough to turn back! Relaxed enough... Suddenly a terrifying realisation struck him. He shuddered and hugged himself more tightly, as he again looked down at his body and... thought about what had made him... relax.

***

A few days later, the Trio was on their way to the Great Hall as they saw Draco Malfoy coming. They kept on talking. The hallway was crowded. Passing, Malfoy brushed against Ron.

"Watch it, Malfoy, will you?" Ron said in his usual tone, he reserved only for the greatest git at school.

Anger on his face, Malfoy spun around, and opened his mouth to retort. A sound escaped. Draco blushed immediately, turned on his heal and ran away.

"What was that?" Harry asked, still looking after Draco.

"Did Malfoy, I mean, did The Ever Pale Git just blush?" Ron asked incredulously.

Hermione blinked and turned to look at the other two. She hadn't heard their questions. She looked off-colour. "Did Malfoy just... purr?!"

***