Shag Like Bunnies

Professor Severus Snape stared impassively down at the two students huddled together for warmth in the middle of a very small bed in the Hospital Wing. His breath blew out before him in an icy stream; no one was currently occupying the other beds, and the school elves hadn't lit the fires in the room, hence it was blasted cold.

Professor Snape sighed inwardly. Would the time ever come when he wouldn't be dragged from his warm bed in the late hours of the night for some ridiculous student foolishness?

At least this time it wasn't bloody Potter.

Professor McGonagall entered the room, fussy and groggy in a profusion of tartan. She swept indignantly over to the bed, glancing at it's occupants and doing a double take before giving the Professor as astonished a look as she could manage.

"What is the meaning of this, Severus?" she asked, then dropped her voice to a whisper when she noticed Hannah Abbot and Justin Finch-Fletchley sitting on a nearby bed.

"I demand an explanation," she said in a low voice. "I was awakened by a house elf, Severus, for goodness sake, and told absolutely nothing about why I was being summoned here. Why are there students out of bed at this hour? And isn't this"--she indicated the bed where the two students were still huddled together--"a matter for Hagrid?"

"One would think so," Severus replied drily. "But it would seem that it is a matter for us, since these are our students."

"OUR students?" she answered. "What in heaven's name..."

"Indeed," he said, "and as soon as Professor Dumbledore and Madam Pomfrey return, we shall find out exactly what has happened here to turn them into this."

"Who are they?" Professor McGonagall said incredulously.

"Draco Malfoy," said Professor Snape, "and Seamus Finnigan."

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Seamus Finnigan had a secret. He kept it quietly, which was very much unlike him, as Seamus tended to do things in as loud and blustery a manner as possible. No one would have guessed the thoughts hidden behind that blandly freckled face.

Seamus liked stuffed animals.

To be fair, you might say Seamus loved stuffed animals. From a very early age. And then, in his wild and reckless youth, his love grew a little more physical. How many times had his little sister taken Mr. Kitty to his poor mother to be laundered?

"Mummy, he's all STICKY again."

So many times, in fact, that Mummy had eventually disposed of Mr. Kitty.

"He just fell apart in the wash, angel, I'm sorry."

Then she'd taken to lurking around the door of his sister's room and giving Seamus suspicious looks every time he passed by.

Silly woman. As if he'd had to resort to stealing for his obsession, once he discoverd that there was a kiosk right in the village that sold cotton-stuffed synthetic-furred love.

Seamus visited often.

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"Shove over!" complained the white fluffy bunny. "It's not that cold that you have to have your nose right up my arse!"

"But you're so soft, Malfoy," answered the slightly larger blond bunny, burying his nose in the other's fur and inhaling deeply.

"Finnigan!" warned Draco. "I mean it, off me! You wait until the others leave, I'm going to rabbit kick you until I scratch off every bit of that fur, you utter pervert."

"Really?" Seamus answered eagerly. "I always wondered what that felt like."

Draco lapsed into a morose silence. Seamus dug up a lettuce leaf from the floor of the cage and nibbled it thoughtfully.

"You know, this sort of thing doesn't taste any better when you're a rabbit."

No answer.

"Oh, come on, Malfoy. It's not like this is my fault. If you hadn't been snooping around you wouldn't be a cute ickle furry bunny right now, would you?"

"If you don't shut up I'm going to gnaw your ears off, you idiot!" Draco shouted.

Bunny rabbits could be so testy.

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Finally. Madam Pomfrey had returned with Professor Dumbledore.

Dumbledore looked at the Seamus-and-Draco bunnies for a long moment, then turned to the two Hufflepuff students sitting together nearby.

"Hannah, Justin," he said, "would you care to explain to us the circumstances in which you found your fellow students?"

"We were out for a walk--" began Justin.

"At midnight?" Professor McGonagall interrupted.

"Yes, well--" Justin continued.

"What, pray tell, were you doing out at that hour?" Professor Snape asked.

"We, uh, well--" Hannah stuttered.

"Now, now," said Dumbledore. "We shall explore the reasons for the midnight excursion later, if you please, Severus, Minerva. Do continue, Justin."

"W-we were out," he gulped, "for a walk, and we were just passing by this empty classroom on the third floor--"

"How convenient," Snape muttered.

"--when we decided to just, you know, look in, and we found these two, well, the bunnies--Draco and Seamus," he finished. "That's all we know, we swear.

"Seen it before," said Madam Pomfrey calmly. "Leave them there til morning, we'll get them changed back and off to classes."

"Why, Poppy, you don't even know what happened."

"No matter, a touch of Dr. Psalmanzzer's Special Spell Reverser and they'll be right in a jiffy."

"Why not just do it tonight then?" asked Snape.

"These things take time, and it's cold. Morning's time enough," she answered.

Everyone looked at her.

"Yes, well," Professor Dumbledore said at last, "let us all return to our beds and our dreams, and we'll sort all this out in the morning, shall we?"

"Are we going to leave them in that cage?" said Professor McGonagall. "It seems so inhumane."

"Do you want them running about all over the school?" answered Madam Pomfrey. "I don't want to have to catch them in the morning. In the cage they are, and in the cage they can stay."

Everyone slowly filed out of the room. Madam Pomfrey, the last, exstinguished the torches with a flick of her wand.

And the bunny rabbits were alone.

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Draco Malfoy, Prefect, often had days which could be considered above the norm of the ordinary student day, and today had been especially triumphant.

He'd finally gotten that utter twat, MacMillan, to admit he'd written those ridiculously misspelled anti-Slytherin messages down the Transfiguration corridor last Tuesday. MacMillan had been PURPLE when Crabbe finally let him out of the headlock.

And then at dinner, he'd subtly flicked a mushroom at the Ravenclaw table, causing a food fight of epic proportions from which he had, of course, escaped unscathed. Potter, Draco was pleased to note, had ended up with what looked like a whole cauldron full of mashed potatoes in his lap.

But the day couldn't have ended better.

He'd finally let Pansy Parkinson manuever him alone, after years of trying on her part, and she had rewarded him with the best blow job of his life. That girl had a mouth like a thing that sucked really well. She could suck a hippogryff through a picket fence with a straw. She could--

*wham*

What in the bloody stinking offal pits of hell?

Draco raised his head weakly, looking at the shadowy outline of a figure standing over him, wand raised. He gripped his wand in a hand that seemed to have abnormally short fingers, aimed uncertainly, and shouted the first spell he could think of.

"Reciprofy!"

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Seamus's little interest had grown to a large obsession by the time he found himself naked and shivering in the most deserted looking classroom he'd been able to find.

He'd aquired a rather realistic looking furry bunny model from a maker of veterinary student supplies, and wonder of wonders, it was anatomically correct. His dream come true, he rushed off with his new purchase to a nearby loo as soon as possible armed with a tube of Llewellyn's Magical Lubricant.

He was shocked, awed, and possibly dismayed to learn that anatomically correct bunny rabbit lab models were as small as their living counterparts and there was no room for give and also that there was no way THAT was going in THERE. No matter how hard he shoved.

Later, in the privacy of his bed, curtains pulled, he perused every Transformations text he'd been able to convince Madam Pince was necessary. Transformations were tricky things.

There were endless stories of wizards who'd turned themselves into teapots and then spent the next hundred years as a piece of decorative Wedgwood until someone figured out their plight and released them. Not to mention Uhirial the Unlucky, who'd been trying to escape from a group of Muggles in the fourteenth century and turned himself into a rowboat. An unfortunately leaky rowboat. He'd spent the next three hundred years at the bottom of the lake before being dredged up by fisherman and the next forty five after that on display in a nautical museum. Luckily one of his descendants had happened by and though the rowboat had a decidedly familiar look about it.

Animal transformations were almost unheard of and even dicier than inanimate objects. Of course there was the whole Animagus bit but Seamus didn't have years to learn all that, he wanted the use of Clothilde (as he'd christened the bunny model) now. He needed a spell that would transform him into a bunny rabbit for about four hours (Seamus knew his own limits), enough time to enjoy the fruits of his labor, and then would wear off nicely in plenty of time for him to sneak back to his bed.

Finally, in the wee hours of the morning, Seamus found what he was looking for. He went to bed an exhausted but happy Finnigan, planning an evening of lab model debauchery for the very next night.
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"Did anyone ever tell you you're a flipping imbecile, Finnigan?" Draco said pleasantly. "No, really, I mean it. You're trying to tell me that you, a, have feelings of arousal around little furry stuffed animals, and b, that you were actually trying to mate with one? Didn't you ever consider cutting the arse out of Popo the Penguin and just having at?"

"I have tried that, Malfoy," Seamus Finnigan said wearily. "The stuffing gets all over. Have you ever had a stuffing pellet up the head of your winkie? Not to mention the embarassment when you whip the thing out to take a piss in front of your mates and synthetic fur comes drifting out your zipper. No, thank you, really. And I couldn't do a real live one, it'd kill it and I'm not a sadist, you know."

Draco regarded him with enormous pale bunny rabbit eyes. "What exactly are you then, Finnigan? Do they have a name for perverted bunny wankers or are you just a psychiatric disease all on your own?"

Seamus swallowed hard, feeling his throat tighten up over the lump of carrot that had gotten stuck there earlier. Now was the time, the time to say something he'd never said out loud before.

"I'mafurry."

Draco looked as confused as a little white bunny rabbit possibly could. "That's lovely, Finnigan, but I don't speak raving twit, try again."

Seamus tried again, slowly, enunciating each word. "I Am A Furry."

"Dear God. If there's a name for it that must mean there are others like you. And I thought Goyle and the tutu couldn't be topped."

Seamus didn't quite know what to say to that, but he did have something else on his mind.

"You won't tell anyone, will you, Malfoy? Please?"

Draco laughed uproariously, which came out as a series of small bunny squeaks. He rolled onto his back and kicked his long hind feet into the air.

"Not tell anyone? Oh, that's rich, Finnigan, what do you take me for? As soon as we get out of this mess I'm telling the entire world. I expect it will take me most of the morning to get around to owling your Mum and it may be dinner time before I can rouse the editor of the Daily Prophet by Firechat but rest assured--"

Malfoy was far too amused by all this, decided Seamus.

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7 a.m., and it was bitterly cold in the hospital wing. They'd been alone for quite some time, the two bunnies, and Draco had been uncharacteristically silent except for an occasional amused chuckle or a snore. Seamus had been awake most of the night, worrying. He'd no idea how he was going to face his friends after this, not to mention his poor parents. His Da would never look him in the eye again. His Mum would hide anything fuzzy, furry, or anthropomorphic in nature every time he came home to visit. He'd be shunned, an outcast, a pariah, a martyr to his sexual deviancies--

The door at the far end of the ward swung open and Madam Pomfrey entered. She approached the bed as Seamus's heart pounded in fear, so loud he though it would burst. How long, how long would it be before his humiliation would be made public?

She sat down on the bed across from the two bunnies and faced them.

"You know that there is no Magical Spell Reverser that will return the two of you to your natural forms," she said, spreading her hands to show the two boys they were empty.

Seamus's heart plummeted. Was he to be stuck in bunny form the rest of his life? He heard Draco muttering threats beside him and shivered uncontrollably.

"Mr. Finnigan, you were aware of the terms of the spell you performed? That spell was only to be used in dire emergency, by someone with an urgent need." She frowned at the two boys. "Normally wizards only use it when they are in fear for their lives and can only save themselves by assuming an animal form, but once the danger is past, they are immdiately reverted to human shape."

"Many's the wizard who regretted Transforming into a mouse to escape an enemy and then met the cat of the house ... and many's the cat who regretted eating the mouse once it reverted back to its' natural state.

But you, Mr. Finnigan, cast the spell with a need far less urgent in mind, although it may not seem that way to you. You wanted sex in bunny form, and you won't be returned to human shape until the need is fulfulled."

Madam Pomfrey shuddered involuntarily.

"But you're not here for a history of magic lesson, though it seems at least one of you sorely needs one."

She reached for the cage door.

"What's she TALKING about?" Draco squealed as Madam Pomfrey lifted him onto the bed. "Finnigan, I cannot perform fell deeds and acts of depravity as a little furry white bunny rabbit! Tell me I'm not going to be known as Lord Thumper! Tell me now Finnigan!"

If bunnies had lips, Seamus would have been smiling. "I think I see what she's getting at, Malfoy. You won't have to spend the rest of your life eating carrots, but I don't think you'll be telling anyone about my special interests." Seamus laughed as Madam Pomfrey plopped him on the bed beside Draco.

Madam Pomfrey regarded the two bunnies again with a rather mischevious gleam in her eye. "I lied for you two, and I expect at least one of you knows that. Professor Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall will almost certainly know what you'll have done to get yourselves out of this mess, but this isn't Professor Snape's area of expertise, and of course your fellow students have no idea of the nature of the spell you performed, Mr. Finnigan. You will be able to leave with some--" she coughed "--of your dignity intact."

She rose to leave, looking back over her shoulder at the two bunnies still crouched on the bed as she departed. "In case I haven't made myself plain, boys, if you ever want to sit at table with a knife and fork again, you had better learn the truth of the phrase "shag like bunnies".

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Seamus had tried to explain the situation to a shocked Draco, who could do little except squeal as though he'd been caught in a trap. Draco didn't care that Seamus hadn't fulfilled the terms of the spell, which after all he had cast with the express purpose of shagging a bunny. Which he hadn't got to do and thus was still stuck in little furry form.

Draco didn't care, he said. He liked being a bunny just fine, he said. And get that thing away from his arse, he said. Until Madam Pomfrey was heard outside the door shooing away some rather persistent members of Slytherin House who were missing their exalted leader.

He made Seamus promise never to tell anybody anything that had transpired between them. And in return he would never never utter the word Furry to a living soul.

Seamus happily agreed.

---------

One sore arse and one satisfied smile later, the two boys sat at their respective house tables passing on the details of the "duel" they'd engaged in the night before. Draco avoided Seamus's eye, bragging about how he'd shown that bloody Gryffindor what was what.

Except for the occasional nose twitch and the overwhelming desire to raid a cottage garden, he could almost believe it.