A/N: This story is turning out to be much longer than I'd first intended (-cough-furry-one-shot-cough-). I'm considering making it a little more serious, with the focus being on Draco's experiences and emotions, brought out by an unwittingly cute Harry. So I guess the Harry's-been-turned-into-a-cat business has become a weak plot device to get the two in the same room together, with one of them naked and oblivious to his influence on the other. So yeah, please forgive me for Harry's OOCness. They're for the greater good. Besides, it's not really OOC. I truly do think this is what Harry would be like as a puddytat…

What's New, Pussycat?

***

-3. Pussycat, Pussycat, I Love You

***

"Come in," Draco drawled, looking up from the book. The door opened and Pansy peeked in, looking hesitant. Her eyes widened at the sight before her.

"Don't ask. And you will forget everything you saw as soon as you leave," Draco said carelessly, "What do you want?"

Pansy swallowed thickly, trying not to blush at the sight of Draco lounging on his bed, shirt open, with a naked Harry draped over his lap, covered in nothing but an old cloak.

"J-just checking up on your progress," Pansy said, tearing her eyes from the sight before her and staring at the floor, her ears hot. She heard a scoff, but nothing worse.

At least that means he's cheered up, she thought. When Draco was moody, he was hurtful. Few people cared to understand that it was his defense. And Draco cared less that they didn't.

"I'm doing what I can," Draco said boredly, scribbling some notes in a scroll beside him. Pansy blinked in surprise. That was probably the nicest thing he's ever said to anybody in his life. Harry squirmed lightly, pressing his face deeper into Draco's side and Pansy could have sworn that she could make out a faint blush on the usually sneering boy's cheeks.

"People have been wondering what you're up to. You've been in here all day. The only times we've seen you were at breakfast and in the Library straight after…," Pansy said. She was expecting a snappy answer like 'Well guess whose fault it is that I'm cooped up in here with The Boy Who Won't Die'. Instead, she got a curt nod and a:

"Tell them I'm researching for father."

Pansy couldn't help but stare at how compliant Draco was being.

"And also, there's a Snowy Owl that's been sitting outside the dorms since this afternoon. An annoying grey…thing…was with it earlier but it left after I untied the packages…they're all for him," she finished, nodding towards the boy in Draco's lap, deciding it would be best for everyone that she just pretend nothing at all was out of the ordinary.

"Let her in. Bring the goods," Draco said shortly, turning the page in the thick tome he was reading. He looked up after a while. "Anything else?" he asked. Pansy shook her head. He stared at her, looking slightly exasperated. She let herself out, and shut the door slowly behind her. She heard the locks click in place as she turned to face the expectant group of people.

"He's researching," she said after clearing her throat carefully.

"Researching what?" asked Smith, sounding dubious.

"Something for his father," Pansy answered casually, brushing past.

"Like what?"

"Go ask him yourself," she answered curtly, leaving the dorms to fetch the owl. She was burning with curiosity as to why Draco had been so pleasant. She felt her cheeks heat up at the memory of that Potter boy draped over Draco's legs. Had something…happened between them…? She shook her head. Draco wouldn't… She knew that he was gay, but for a Gryffindor…? For THAT Gryffindor?

Not to mention the guy was delusional…Draco couldn't be that cold blooded that he'd take advantage of...

Pansy berated herself. Draco was by no means the most honorable man in the world (he was a Slytherin after all), but every bad thing that he may be, by no means was he unrefined.

Besides, he seemed…calm…almost cheerful.

Pansy sighed. Forget everything she saw, he'd said. Well, she'll try…but a Slytherin wasn't selected for their loyalty…

***

Dear Harry,

I hope you're well. Hedwig seems to think we've forgotten you. I was going to mail you anyway, but I suppose since she's come all this way…

I've been having a pleasant enough time, though it's not what I'd anticipated. The Louvre was a little disappointing to be honest. I was expecting a lot less of that 'contemporary art' rubbish. Turns out, you don't actually need to be able to paint to be a painter these days. I suppose one could argue that it's all about emotions and thought but honestly, I think it's all just a big expensive mess.

But listen to me, complaining while you're stuck in school. Still, I think I'd have been better off staying as well, but mother wouldn't hear of it.

Have you heard from the Weasleys yet? Ron's an uncle. Isn't that the funniest thing? I just can't seem to picture him as an uncle. Though I suppose it could be because MY uncle has a beer belly and a comb-over…

Anyways I'd better go. Dad's having a fit because he can't seem to get room service to understand that he doesn't want the twenty pillows they just sent up.

Be good. Let me know if anything happens.

I heard that Draco will also be staying in Hogwarts for the holidays. I trust you won't do anything rash

Best of luck,

Hermione

P.S. The little hourglass in the package is called a Study Timer. I found it in a neat little shop just behind the hotel. It'll let you know when you should take a study break and what the most appropriate, and convenient activity would be to relieve stress. I know I always tell you guys to study, but knowing you, without us around, you'll be caught in those books for weeks.

***

Harry my boy!

You wouldn't believe how surprised I was when I looked out my window this morning and saw Hedwig headed straight this way. She had a package already, and I'd thought it was for me until I saw your name on it in Hermione's handwriting. I think Hedwig's been tracking us down, making sure we wouldn't forget about ya, ey?

Well, don't worry bout me. The ol' giant's blood is hard to dilute, you know? Ha!

You'd be interested to know that the Ridgebacks out here are a lot less friendly than little Norbert. Almost got my arm chewed off by a rascally boy. But he changed his mind when I gave him a good talking to. Norway's a lot colder than I thought it'd be. Hard to imagine that fire can burn in their bellies in this temperature.

I've sent you a couple of dragon fangs. They're quite small, so Hedwig wouldn't have to carry too much of a load all the way back. Thought you might like them. Quite rare to come by, real dragon fangs, but I've got them in surplus seeing as it's molting season. I'd give you more, but unfortunately, they're kind of illegal. So…don't tell anybody, alright?

I hope you've not been up to anything unusual, Harry. Though knowing you, you'll have tamed a good few Hippogriffs by the time I get back. Just don't do anything too brash. Aye, look who I'm talking to…

Anyway, Hedwig seems eager to get back before the storms hit.

Keep warm,

Hagrid

***

Hey Harry,

I see Hedwig's being over-protective again.

Well, not much to report. It's dead boring here in Scotland. Mum's sorry that you couldn't come with, but you know how it is with family reunions mate. It'd be awkward. It's already awkward. I don't know half of these people. Who knew I'd have so many cousins and uncles and great aunts and great, great grandparents and great fat nephews? (I'm uncle to a walrus called Maurice). The muggle born kids keep calling me McDonald… Who the hell is McDonald?? I know as much as you do about these weirdos. Anyways, hope you've not gotten yourself blown up. I hear Malfoy's staying in school too this year. For Merlin's sake don't do anything stupid alright? Can't wait to get back, though. I thought that I'd at least get a glimpse of the Kelpie while I was here but we're not even in the right part of Scotland. Who knew that the Loch Ness didn't cover the entire land mass?

Don't do anything too dangerous till we get back, right?

Ron

(And the rest of us too, I suppose. Though I don't think mum would be too pleased about the walrus nephew bit).

Oh, oh, by the way. Mum's put Mione and Hagrid's stuff with Pig to lighten the load for Hedwig. She's sent some pies in case the mountains of food at Hogwarts aren't enough for a growing boy such as yourself. I swear she thinks you're a troll.

***

Draco glanced over at Harry, who was silently staring at the letters on his bed, a huge smile on his face. Draco felt a little knot of jealousy in his stomach at the honest joy in Harry's eyes. He'd read the letters to Harry earlier, a little embarrassed about intruding on this unfamiliar part of Harry's life, and also a little envious of the effortless friendships that the guy possessed. He couldn't stop himself from wondering what he'd be like if Harry had accepted his offer of friendship way back in first year.

He'd been surprised to see his own name mentioned in two of the three letters. Had their enmity been such a prominent part of Harry's life that it deserved mention in casual correspondence? Draco couldn't decide whether this was a good or bad thing.

The blonde suppressed the small affectionate smirk that threatened to curl at his lips when Harry rubbed his cheeks lovingly against Hedwig. The owl ruffled her feathers, looking slightly embarrassed about her master's unusual behaviour.

"Don't you want to open the parcels?" Draco asked casually, turning away from the book on Polyjuice potion. Draco was mildly grateful that he was a prefect, as he'd been allowed free access to the restricted area of the Library without question. He hadn't found anything helpful though. All it said in the book was that the effects were supposed to wear off in exactly one hour, yet here he was, thirteen hours later, still staring at a feline Harry.

"Open," Harry demanded, pushing the packages towards Draco, who sighed and got out of his chair, heading over to the bed, which Harry seemed to have decide now belonged to the both of them. Harry beamed happily at the Slytherin, then trained his eyes on the packages with the utmost concentration.

Draco carefully unwrapped the meticulously put together first parcel, amused as Harry batted playfully with the wrapping paper that he put beside him.

"Looks like I caught a lively one," Draco mumbled. Harry grinned at the other boy, swatting a bit of ribbon towards him, "Thanks," said Draco, surprised at the small grin that was starting to form on his face as he gazed upon Harry's jovial face.

"Mione!" Harry declared happily as Draco pulled out a delicate little hourglass. It had a spindly dark metal weaving around the glass that held faintly sparkling royal blue sand. There was a reflective surface on the top, surrounded by an intricate feathery design. Draco watched quietly as words started coiling itself onto the surface, making a soft chiming noise:

Time to take a break.

The Polyjuice potion can wait.

Why not a snack in a tree?

There are pies in parcel three.

Draco's brow rose incredulously. Of course, it had to rhyme. He blinked when Harry started laughing in delight, scooting closer and staring at the item in absolute fascination. Draco almost scoffed. The guy really was easily pleased.

But then Draco realized that the honest, heartfelt delight that glinted in the wide green eyes wasn't caused by ignorance. It was grace. He truly appreciated the sincere, humble gift that his friend had given him, indifferent about cost or extravagance.

"Hagrid," Harry grinned as Draco picked up the second package. It was relatively small, roughly wrapped in newspaper and string. Draco was slightly worried about the content of this innocent gift. Dragon's teeth were quite valuable on the black market, and if Harry was caught with it, it would at the very least tarnish his spotless reputation. Then he blinked. Why does he even care…?

Draco unwrapped the little package with a firm scowl on his brow, mentally berating himself for having been at all concerned about Potter, much less his reputation.

He'd strayed.

He'd gotten lost in this strange little world wherein Harry had become an affectionate, unconventional as it was, house pet. He'd forgotten himself.

Draco stared at the warm hand that suddenly wrapped around his own, then looked up to spot Harry with that characteristic concern back in his eyes. Typical Harry. Out to save the world one charity case at a time. Draco scowled and looked away, releasing the fist that he'd unwittingly clenched.

"Why is Draco unhappy?" Harry asked gently.

"As it appears, the only person who's concerned enough to ask that question is my drugged out arch nemesis," Draco said, trying to sound humorous, flinching at the bitterness that tainted his words instead.

Harry sat back, silenced by the regret in Draco's eyes as the blonde stared down at the half opened parcel in his hands. He reached out and took the scrunched up newspaper and string from Draco and spread it out on the bed, revealing a pair of glossy black dragon's teeth. They were quite small, roughly an inch long each, no doubt belonging to a yearling from his first molt. Each tip had a small golden cap attached, and the root was encased in three intricately carved golden hoops that curled around the base and up to form a loop at the top. A roughly scribbled note fell out from the bundled papers and Draco picked it up, automatically reading it out loud for Harry.

"Harry, these teeth were amongst the first that ever dropped from the oldest Ridgeback in the area. He's 384 years old, and his name is Draconius. Odd similarity with that Malfoy boy, but don't let it bother you; this one's a sweetheart. A little fiery if angered though, if you know what I mean. Made the capping myself. Recently got taught goldsmithing by a couple of dwarves I met up here. The tools were tiny, so you'll hafta forgive me for the roughness. Still, I'm rather pleased with the outcome, what do ya think? I gave you a pair so you can give the other one to someone special. And I see that smirk on your face, boy! I'm not too old for romance, you hear?"

Draco was surprised that the oaf he'd assumed Hagrid to be was capable of creating such beautiful items, and his respect for the man instantly trebled. He was even more surprised when, with a pleased little smile, Harry picked up one of the dragon's teeth and placed it gently in Draco's palms.

"Gift," said Harry proudly. Draco stared at the little tooth in his hands.

"F-for me?" he asked uncertainly.

Harry nodded, looking very pleased with himself.

"Why…?" Draco asked, frowning slightly.

"For you," Harry reiterated, looking a little baffled that Draco wasn't as ecstatic as the brunette had been expecting him to be.

"You're out of your mind," Draco said, his frown deepening, "Literally."

"Draco doesn't like?" Harry asked, his pleased grin disappearing, replaced with that infuriating concern once more.

"It doesn't matter," Draco said with a frustrated sigh. He pushed the tooth back into Harry's hands, "You'll regret giving this to me when you're back to normal again."

"No," Harry said angrily, pressing it back into Draco's palm, "Gift."

"Whatever," Draco sighed tiredly, "I'll hold onto it till you want it back, alright?"

Harry smiled widely and nodded, "Hold on to it."

Draco rolled his silver eyes at the enthusiasm in Harry's face. The blonde hadn't seen that expression on anybody in years. At least, not without malice.

"Ron," said Harry, breaking Draco's dark chain of thoughts as he pushed the final and largest parcel into Draco's lap.

"We already know what it is," said Draco. Harry shrugged, still staring eagerly at the package.

Draco sighed and undid the binding spell that held the wrapping paper in place. The (in Draco's opinion, sickeningly) patriotic maroon and gold paper fell from a simple white cardboard box. Draco was surprised to feel that it was warm.

"Harry Dear, I've put a heating spell on the box so it'll warm up as soon as you've unwrapped it. Just leave it for a bit and it'll be ready to eat in a few minutes. Hope you like Cornish, it's always been Ron's favorite.

Molly."

Draco stared at the homely writing on the lid of the box. Why would she go so far as to put an automatic heating spell on a box of pies, fully aware that Harry was (at the time) capable of heating it up by himself?

In fact, the spell required to lift the binding on the wrapping paper, simple it may be, was more complicated than a simple heating spell, but an automatic heating spell took a lot longer to cast, seeing as the trigger agent had to be created along with the boundaries that the spell had to be contained within so it wouldn't set the paper box on fire when it cast itself.

Draco couldn't figure out the logic behind any of it.

"Home made," Harry smiled , leaning in and gratefully inhaling the delicious smell of pies that had started drifting from the box, "By Molly."

Draco blinked in realization.

Of course.

It wouldn't be completely home made had the woman left the pies half cooked. Draco didn't know if he was to feel exasperated by the sentiments behind the gesture, or impressed by the thoughtfulness. He settled for reluctant appreciation. If it had been anybody from his own crowd of people, he'd have been astonished that they'd sent pies at all, and then apprehensive in case the victuals were cursed or poisoned.

"Have some," Harry said, pushing the box towards Draco, who looked inside, brow raised at the dozen miniature pies with the letter 'H' painstakingly imprinted on the top of each one.

"You really are loved, aren't you," Draco said, surprised at the lack of distaste in his voice. In fact, he might have sounded a little defensive.

"Draco is too," Harry muttered, mouth stuffed with pie. Draco rolled his eyes lightly, pushing the pies aside and getting up, heading back to the desk and piles of books, wondering whether Parkinson was even trying to help solve her own problem at all. (She wasn't).

"The only thing in this world that loves me is misfortune," Draco said darkly, dropping in the chair and leaning unceremoniously over yet another unpromising book.

"And me."

Draco blinked, his mind unable to register what he'd just heard.

"What…?"

***

A/N: I told myself that i'd never do this...but...

PLEASE REVIEW!! X3 Even if it's just to say "Hello, I didn't actually read your story I'm just doing this because I think you're a lonely little person who probably needs some love."

But seriously. I really really do care about what you may have to say about my writing, how to improve, what you liked, didn't like, would like to see in the next chapter, everything. Let me know! Please, i beg of you! Have mercy upon my low self esteem!!! X'(

Kthanx for reading!