AN: I don’t own anything from Harry Potter, and plot is based on novel Blonde with a Wand by Vicki Lewis Thompson.
Of course Hermione was going to change Draco back, she wasn’t that cruel and besides if she didn’t then that meant she wouldn’t ever get her magic back. Not that she really needed it; she did grow up surrounded by muggles after all. But as of lately she’s been relying on her magic more than ever, usually doing simple stuff like keeping her shop clean and in order as well as her apartment. Not to mention putting up security wards around both places. Oh no! If she lost her magic did that mean her protection wards don’t work anymore? Not that it would be horrible if she didn’t have that extra protection, but it was nice to know she had it just in case. It wasn’t like she had anyone after her, except without her magical protection she’ll now have to worry about magical beings from breaking in especially pixies, their known for causing trouble just because they can. Although living in London probably meant she wouldn’t have to worry to much about pixies disrupting her shop or apartment. No matter she just focus on trying to fix the problem with Draco first and worry about the other problem later.
She could hear Crookshanks scratching at the closest door which either meant he was hungry or he had to use the little box. She got up from the chair she’s been sitting at and walked over to the broom closet. As soon as she opened the door Crookshanks leaped out racing passed her straight towards Draco who was sitting on the coffee table; which looked like he was trying to read one the books she had scattered about her living room. Crookshanks let out some kitty version of a warrior battle cry, which is when Draco choose the moment to look up and bolted as soon as Crookshanks got close enough. Creating a chaotic game of chase around the living room moving so fast Hermione only saw blurs of motion, up and down, under and over. And they manage to knock over just about anything they came in contact with.
Draco managed to leap onto his safe spot on top of the bookcase. Ha, now what fat ass? He thought looking down at Crookshanks. You think you’re so tough, but I’m faster and more in shape then you, you can’t even jump high. Draco wanted desperately to stick out his tongue out at the beast who if he wasn’t mistaking now panting out of breath. Crookshanks just glared up at Draco making hissing noises waiting for Draco to come down. Which if it was up to Draco, that wasn’t going to be anytime soon.
“That’s enough you two, look what you did to my living room, you either get along or you’re going back into the broom closet,” Hermione said to Crookshanks who wasn’t paying attention to her still glaring at Draco. “And you,” pointing up at Draco. “I need to clean you up so you don’t get chocolate all over anything else,” she said as she reached up to pick him off the bookcase cradling him to her chest and walked towards her bedroom and into her connecting bathroom.
“I guess that means I have to get your clothes clean too, so when you do change back you’ll have fresh clean clothes.” She closed the bathroom door so Crookshanks wouldn’t come in and continue to torment Draco. She sat Draco down on the counter and turned away to pull back the shower curtain and reached down to turn on the water in the tub.
While she was doing that Draco thought it would be wise not to stare at her ass when she bent over so instead he turned towards the mirror behind him. Bloody Hell he really was a cat, seeing his reflection for the first time. I guess it kind of looked like me, he thought noticing that he still had the same coloring; pale blonde hair and grey eyes but other then that there wasn’t much more similarities. Thank Merlin he was a short haired cat, and not some sissy, fluffy, froo froo cat, like the monster cat Hermione had in the living room.
“The water’s lukewarm, Malfoy,” she said. “I’ll make this as quick as possible I just need to get the chocolate milkshake off of you.”
Draco took a look at the water in the tub as she lowered him towards it, for one panicky moment he picture drowning in the water, and he struggled. She held him tight in her arms and her sweater she was wearing kept his clams from digging into her skin. Nevertheless he somehow ended up standing in that water while she scrubbed him down with a loofah, he hated every minute of it, but he understood it had to be done.
He searched for a distraction to try to make him forget that he was a cat getting a bath. Looking up he noticed that her hair was coming out of its arrangement she put it in earlier, she soft brown curls falling across her cheeks. And her smell, with his new super cat senses he could smell everything; the soap, the shampoo she used, her perfume, and the scent that was everything Hermione Granger. And he couldn’t help but think that she looked sexy as hell. He became so engrossed at watching her that when the bath was over he was almost sorry…almost.
“There you go. Such a good kitty.” She dried him with the towel while she crooned endearments.
Kitty? He growled at her, insulted that she called him that. He was a man, with a manly job, he had money, came from a well respected line of purebloods, he loved firewhiskey. He was so loaded with testosterone it wasn’t even funny. And yet the more she rubbed him down, the more he had the urge to…purr.
The sound rumbled up from his chest, surprising the hell out of him. A manly man didn’t purr damn-it! But cats did, and whatever she was doing with that towel was terrific. He couldn’t stop the purring from getting louder.
“That wasn’t so bad, was it, Draco?” she gave him one last swipe with the towel and set him down on the bathroom floor. And damned if he wasn’t still purring. It must have been some sort of cat reflex that he couldn’t control. “I’m glad you let me give you a bath,” she said. “Are you hungry? I have some left over chicken in the refrigerator. Let me get you some. It’s the least I can do.”
Being nice to him, was not going to get her off the hook, but since he was stuck like this at the moment he’d take anything she offered, because he couldn’t be expected to eat those dried rabbit droppings that they call cat food. She scooped him up in her arms and carried him out of the bathroom. Being carried meant he wasn’t in charge of his movements, which he didn’t like one bit, but it also meant he wouldn’t be attacked by the monster cat that was waiting right outside the bathroom door now, ready to pounce. And being cuddled against Hermione’s chest wasn’t the worst thing in the world. An damn-it he started purring again.
Hermione walked into the kitchen and set Draco down on the counter. “I’ll feed you up here, so Crookshanks can’t get you.” Then she bent down trying to give attention to the said monster cat, but got rejected when Crookshanks stalked away from her touch. “This is only temporary, Crookshanks,” Hermione said. “You’re still my main man and Malfoy will be gone tomorrow” she said then muttered something that sounded like I hope.
Hermione went about getting the chicken ready for Draco. He watched as she put it in a black box that turned on when she pushed on some buttons. She noticed him looking at it strangely. “It’s called a microwave, muggles use it to heat up food,” she explained then went to retrieve it when it dinged. “I got you some water too.” She sat a bowl next to the plate of chicken in front of Draco. The food smelled like heaven, which probably explained why Crookshanks was yowling in displeasure as he passed back and forth on the kitchen floor.
“I can’t give you any.” Hermione told him. “The vet said no more table food. Being overweight is bad for your heart.”
Draco tried to enjoy his triumph as he ate the chicken, but Crookshanks sounded pitiful. If the orange cat hadn’t tried to rip his throat out, he’s might feel sorry for him. Crookshanks gave up realizing he was going to go chickenless for the night he pranced out of the kitchen yowling in complaint and making quite a racket the entire way.
“Crookshanks you’re going to have to keep quite. You’ll disturb the neighbors.” Sure enough, a thumping sound came from above them, “see?” Hermione said as she scooped him up and put him back in the broom closet.
Draco was working very hard not to feel sorry for Crookshanks. If Hermione would do that for a couple of noisy yowls no telling what she would do to him.
“Don’t look at me like that Malfoy. I already told you he likes it in there. He’ll get over it, and the darkness settles him down.”
Some of Draco’s tension went away thinking that kind of made sense on how a quite, dark space would be a cozy place to relax and sleep or it could be a place that could drive a person absolutely mad.
“Since he’s um, tucked away for the night, you can feel free to use the litter box if you want.”
Litter Box? Oh bloody hell.
“It’s in the laundry room down the hall on the floor. I always keep the door open for easy access.” She explained.
She could tell him that in there would be where he would get to live out all of his fantasies. He was not going in there and uses that sand box as a toilet not now, not ever.
“Um, I’m not sure where you want to sleep for the night; I don’t have a kitty bed because Crookshanks usually sleeps with me. So I can clear off the sofa if you want to sleep there?” she asked waiting for an answer she obviously wasn’t going to get. “Hum, I wonder if there is a way that we can communicate better. That way I can sort of know what your thinking, well of course I have a pretty good idea of what your thinking, what with being pissed at me for turning you into a cat and all.” Oh god she was rambling, even in cat form he still managed to make her flustered. And why did she have to bring up the sleeping issue, it’s not like she offered her bed for him to use if he wanted. But really would it be that bad, what could he do, he was a cat?
Draco sat on the counter and listened to Hermione talking not really hearing what she was saying. He was really tired he realized and the talk of sleep made him even more aware of the fact. After the ordeal he’s been through he could sleep for days. But first there was on major issue he wanted to deal with before he called it a night, but he didn’t know how to let Hermione know that there was no way in Hades that he was going to use that bloody litter box, and he really needed to pee.
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