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Draco really should’ve learned by now that betting was never a good idea. Yes, he had won something perfect and amazing in a bet once – namely, his relationship with Harry – but afterwards, he had quickly forsworn any further betting with Blaise, lest he lose everything he had gained and more. That had been an absolute, as he had no doubt in his mind that his penchant for bad decisions had not yet run its full course.
Regrettably though, he hadn’t quite been able to swear off bets altogether – specifically, ones with his boyfriend. Much like when they were children, Harry still had this infuriating way of getting under his skin, and before he even knew what was going on, he was posting ludicrous collateral for his wagers like a brand-new broom or his hair solution.
Or the right to choose their plans for Valentine’s Day.
Okay, so he really should have seen it coming when Harry challenged him to a one-on-one seeker match to decide that particular bet. After all, he had been forced to struggle around the field on his old broom (as he’d actually lost that previous bet), and his hair kept falling in his face as he flew (lost that one too) – so really, he hadn’t had much of a chance to start.
Potter played dirty. And he really would’ve protested it much sooner if it didn’t usually work out in his favor.
This time, however, his horrible, conniving boyfriend had announced that – if he won – Draco would have to spend the entirety of Valentine’s Day in his ferret animagus form. Which was, clinically speaking, not fucking acceptable at all.
So Draco had gone all-in to this clearly unfair fight, desperately hoping for the snitch to fly into his face or something – anything to spare him this humiliating and unjust fate on what was supposed to be one of the most romantic days of the year. Had it been Draco who had the upper hand in such a battle, he might’ve been convinced to show Harry some mercy, in the interest of preserving his lover’s dignity and all.
Harry didn’t think like that though. Oh no. Victory tasted too sweet upon his lips.
Harry had trounced him with a grin on his face.
Draco also should have learned by now that once he had made a promise to Harry, there was no possible way to slither out of it. February 14th arrived, and with it, the dashing of all his lovingly-crafted plans and dreams.
“Are you sure you wouldn’t rather be taken to ‘La Mode’ for an evening of wining and dining and then be led through the beautifully landscaped courtyard to the chocolatier’s next door?” he asked Harry, voice trembling only slightly with longing. “It’s not too late. I have an in – I can get those reservations back if I Floo right now.”
Harry rolled over in bed to face him and laughed. “Positive.” He grabbed his glasses from the nightstand and slipped them on. “Now get on with it.”
Draco squawked in protest. “Now? Like right now? I don’t even get to, say, shower first?”
Harry traced a finger over Draco’s chest with an amused little smile. “Right now,” he echoed, in a passable imitation of him.
“You’re-…you’re infuriating,” Draco gasped. “Infuriating and manipulative, and as soon as today’s over, I’m going to sue-”
“-sue me, yeah, yeah.” The small smile had widened into a huge, smug grin. “It’s not like I’ve heard that one before, Mr. Wizengamot Assembly Member.”
Draco flushed a brilliant shade of pink.
“R-right. Well it’s true.”
“True or not, you better get on with it.” Harry rolled on top of him and gave him a hard, sloppy kiss that ended all too soon for his liking. His eyes were daring. “Now change.”
With one last doleful glare, Draco shut his eyes and concentrated, squeezing his body in, until it began to compress and change shape. Then, he was simply a small white ferret on a very large bed.
Harry scooped him up immediately and nuzzled into his side. “Fuck. You really are adorable like this.”
Draco squeaked in surprise.
“Now let’s get you that bath,” he said, standing suddenly and carrying him into the bathroom. “Since you were so upset over missing your shower.” He turned on the taps to the sink, filling the bowl with pleasantly warm water (which he discovered by being unceremoniously lowered into it).
But Harry’s hands were gentle as they ran through his wetted fur, and to his utter dismay, he began to relax into the touch. Harry smiled as he dabbed some of Draco’s shampoo onto his back, then began massaging it in. He worked it carefully around his eyes and nose, and Draco found his eyes actually fluttering shut when Harry stroked repeatedly under his chin.
Fuck. This was embarrassing. But also…strangely not? Despite his earlier teasing – despite the backdrop of this all being part of a bet – Harry wasn’t making fun of him at all as he worked. In fact, he seemed rather relaxed and serious himself.
He filled a cup with fresh warm water and poured it slowly over the lathered fur. Draco could feel his little toes curling at the sensation. Okay, so maybe it felt nice. Just a little bit.
Harry repeated the gesture several times until he deemed him free of soap, then lifted him onto a white, fluffy towel. His skillful hands gathered him in the material and, with firm, careful strokes, began to rub him dry.
He grinned at his handiwork when he was done. “There. Now no one can accuse me of taking improper care of my ferret.”
Draco’s heart stuttered as he remembered their fateful Christmas reunion. He’d come down the chimney in a cloud of soot, and Granger had been quick to chastise Harry about leaving him that way.
And, as if sensing the train of his thoughts, Harry pulled out another unexpected reminder: the red ribbon. He summoned it over with a flick of his wrist, and tied it in a quick bow around Draco’s neck.
“Don’t worry,” he murmured, “I’ve put an expanding charm on it. It’ll stretch now, if you have to change back.”
Draco squirmed, but even he couldn’t say whether it was from his consideration or the bow itself.
After making a lazy breakfast, feeding Draco bacon scraps, and reading the morning paper with Draco sprawled across his shoulders, Harry finally decided to get on with the day and take them out. Of course, since it was Harry, he had a much different definition of “going out” than Draco did.
He Apparated them to a small town just off the beach, and Draco would’ve been surprised if his head wasn’t still reeling from the unpleasant jump. Apparition really was worse as a ferret.
Harry just took a deep breath of the sea air and grinned though, his eyes flashing impudently at Draco on his shoulder. “It’s no ‘La Mode,’ I know, but we can have fun here too – you’ll see.”
Draco rolled his eyes, then made sure to squeak irritably when he thought the gesture had gotten lost. Ferret eyes were so small after all – but his creative expression mustn’t be.
His perturbation, however, seemed lost on Harry, as the man strode off calmly towards the boardwalk, and Draco found he rather liked seeing the world from this perch. It also didn’t hurt that he could chew on Harry’s hair or chatter in his ear whenever he found something mildly unpleasant. Which, as he really should’ve expected, happened quite frequently on their several-hour walk.
Harry seemed determined to stop into every single “beach-themed” pet shop along the way to inquire about ferret garments (none of them had any, surprise surprise), and he ended up settling for a Hawaiian shirt made for a cat that he discreetly resized with magic.
And then proceeded to force onto him with a series of curses and immobilizing spells.
Whatever. Let Potter have his fun. At least no one would recognize him like this.
His terrible, horrible boyfriend also had the habit of sticking his nose into every snack stand along the path, of which the only saving grace was that most were closed in the middle of February. None of this seemed to bother Harry, of course, and he merely shuffled Draco closer to his neck and looped his scarf around his garishly-dressed body while offering him a bite of fish and chips.
Draco refused several times, following his no-eating-before-morphing principle, but eventually gave in when the smell proved too tempting. Anyway, he’d technically already broken that rule with the bacon this morning.
“You like that?” Harry murmured, after he’d finally taken a bite.
At the soft tone, Draco found himself shivering. He was used to that phrase being used in a completely different context.
“Tastes good, huh?” Harry scratched under his chin and looked him in the eyes, and if he hadn’t been covered in fur, Draco was sure that he’d be blushing. “Oh man, you’re so cute.”
He led them into a place reading “ARCADE” next, and Draco forgot his exasperation with Harry long enough to be wonderstruck by all the strange and overwhelming new sensations. Lights were flashing like a technicolor stunning spell, and noises gurgled and shouted from every machine. He had never seen anything quite like it in the Wizarding World before.
Draco must’ve squeaked in surprise, as Harry turned to smile radiantly at him. “Cool, isn’t it? I thought you’d like it.”
After looking a little lost himself, he meandered over to what Harry called a “claw machine” and began moving a slow metal arm around with a lever. At about his fifth attempt, his face started to flush, and he murmured defeatedly, “Don’t laugh at me. This is harder than it looks.”
Looking into the large glass cage, he didn’t think he saw anything worth playing so many times to win, but he figured it had become about the principle of the thing. As a competitor and a bet-junkie, it was something he could relate to.
Without any further warning, he scurried down Harry’s arm and squeezed his way up the metal chute and into a sea of small stuffed toys.
“Draco, fuck-” he heard muffled from afar, and he had to admit it was fairly comical to watch Harry’s worried grappling from the other side of the glass. But then, he heard a whirring noise, and he flicked his head up just in time to dodge the metal arm from slicing into him.
Curse his weak ferret eyes!
He darted down into the toys, then realized, as the arm hummed safely up and away, that he really couldn’t get a great footing on anything, and felt himself sinking further and further into their midst.
He panicked, suddenly being hit with the full force of how much he didn’t want to die pressed up against some pink amorphous blob with big cartoon eyes and red feet. Draco writhed, twisting his body this way and that until he was able to scramble once more to the top and cling to the rim of the metal chute.
Okay, so this might not have been his most brilliant idea. But Harry had looked so downtrodden by his repetitive failures, that Draco had simply had to step in. That’s what boyfriends were for, wasn’t it?
So with a mad grab – that he hoped looked more dignified than it felt – he swiped a mushroom-looking thing from the sea and then slid down the chute. Then, he poked his head out at the bottom and looked up.
Harry looked a little pale, though he let out a short bubble of laughter as Draco slid the rest of the way out and into his hand. Draco dropped the mushroom-thing. Harry poked at it wonderingly.
“You got me a Toad,” he murmured in shock.
Draco was tempted to ask if he had splinched his brain somewhere along the way, because this clearly wasn’t a toad.
“I was trying to win you something to look cool, and then you went and got me a Toad.” He laughed again, drawing Draco up to his face and kissing him atop the head. “Merlin, you don’t do things by halves, do you?”
Draco turned his head away in embarrassment – and, okay, maybe a little bit of self-congratulation.
Harry’s grin turned impish. “If you’re gonna play it that way though, I have another game we could try.”
He carried Draco over to what seemed like a ball-throwing game, only Harry had placed him on the little runway and handed him balls to run and place into the topmost hole, which caused a bunch of paper ticket-things to shoot out by Harry’s feet. They enjoyed a good ten minutes or so of this until the manager caught on and threw them out with a look of perplexity stamped on his face.
Apparently, ferrets were not a common pet in the Muggle world – let alone trained ferrets.
They had spent a while longer at the boardwalk, Harry letting Draco run along the railing until he got tired, and then burying him in the sand – all except for his little furry head. It had been…fun. And somewhere along the way, Draco had stopped protesting the spontaneous little stops and let himself be carried on by the whirlwind that was Harry James Potter.
Several hours later, they were back home, and Draco had opted to take a nap while Harry wrought destruction on their kitchen in making chocolates for his friends. Draco had tried to sneak some of the truffle filling before it was poured, but Harry had kept a watchful eye for just this and dragged him away, reminding him how “chocolate is poisonous to ferrets.”
Which was probably fair, considering how Draco still had no clue whether his stomach in his animagus form was closer to his human stomach or a real ferret’s. He figured his first test was better off with not poison.
Regardless, he had curled grumpily on Harry’s discarded scarf and protested this neglect through promptly falling asleep.
He woke to the sharp feeling of Apparition, and once again, he had to shake away the feeling before he was able to properly take in his surroundings.
“Oh, Harry! Nice of you to stop by!” From the edge of the basket he realized he was being carried in, Draco saw the familiar form of Luna Lovegood come into view. “And you brought your little familiar!”
Harry laughed and gave her a hug. “Luna, you know that this is Draco. I’ve told you several times now.”
She just smiled serenely and gave Draco a pat on the head. “Just because he’s your boyfriend, doesn’t mean he can’t also be your familiar,” she said. “Now what brings you by tonight? I’m surprised you’re not out on a date.”
She said it bluntly, like she had quite a knack for.
Harry blushed a little. Draco knew that he had already owled chocolates to his other friends, but as Luna was single, it was pathetically obvious that he was stopping by in person to check up on her.
“I, er…well, we would’ve been, but Draco lost a bet to me, you see. I made him promise to spend the whole day as a ferret instead of the fancy dinner and tour of France he had planned.” He pointedly did not look at him while admitting it. Which meant that even he could hear how ridiculous his actions sounded.
But Luna didn’t even seem to see one as preferable to the other! She merely remarked, “Oh, I thought you were doing it this way, because it’s so much more intimate.”
“It’s…what?” Harry’s face reddened even further, and Draco’s would’ve matched it too, were he human. As it was, he stamped his little feet in nervous agitation.
“Well, it’s only natural, isn’t it? You can be more caring and affectionate with him in this new way that you wouldn’t be able to do otherwise.”
Draco’s heart quickened. Was that why Harry kept bothering him to do it? He had changed admittedly few times since the Christmas incident. Maybe only once or twice. But only because it was embarrassing-
Harry snuck a glance at him down in the basket, and his face was so flustered and hesitant in that way that was completely and utterly entrancing - and maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to be a ferret, if he could wring out expressions like that more often.
Draco perched his front feet on the edge of the container of chocolates and hoped he looked questioning enough to draw out an answer.
“I-…I mean…” Harry sputtered. He took a deep breath, trying to school his face into a calm, Aurorly look and failing. “I guess that’s part of it,” he finally admitted.
“Oh good!” said Luna, clapping her hands and smiling at him in earnest. “I’m glad that you can admit that to him now. Your relationship has really come a long way.”
Seeing that his friend was doing perfectly fine, given her responses, Harry hastened to hand off the container of chocolates and make up excuses to head home soon after. But since it was Luna, she still managed to slip several more mortifying comments about feelings - and Draco's "handsome Hawaiian shirt - into the conversation first, before they were able to leave.
Back at home, Harry set Draco on the bed - thankfully, after divesting him of the hideous garment - and then ran to fetch several things from downstairs before returning. “Alright, Draco,” he murmured, “Just one more thing, and then you can change back. You’ve been very good.”
He revealed something small and red from behind his back, and Draco didn’t have a chance to inspect it before Harry was clipping it around his neck. It was stiffer than the ribbon, and he squirmed side to side to test how heavy it felt, but surprisingly, it was rather comfortable.
Harry smirked. “This one expands too, so you’re okay to change.”
He did, feeling his bones and muscles stretch and click into proper place.
“What the fuck did you put on me, Potter?” Draco asked as soon as he was human once more. His fingers scrambled to tug on the tag attached to the collar. Craning his neck at the sharpest angle it would go, he barely made out the words “Property of Harry Potter.”
He let go and slumped back on the bed with a laugh. “Oh, Harry. You kinky fuck.”
But Harry already leering and grinning widely. It didn’t help matters that the transformation had left Draco completely naked on their bed.
When Harry failed to make a move, Draco grabbed him by the front of his jumper and pulled him in close. “Well?” he murmured against Harry’s lips. Then, mimicking this morning, “Get on with it.”
Harry closed the distance and snogged him like he’d been away for forty years. In honesty, it kind of felt like he had – Draco would have to look into ferret-human time perception differences as well. He hoped it was that and not…well, he hoped he wasn’t so clingy as to miss holding him and what-have-you.
When he pulled back to breathe, Draco smirked and said, “I hope you’re planning to hand-feed me those truffles you’ve got poorly hidden on a tray over there. Or I might be disinclined to continue.”
Harry rolled his eyes dramatically. “Oh, so taking you to the beach and an arcade for the first time wasn’t enough for you then?”
“Potter, you spent three hours making truffles and gave them to everyone but me so far, so I’m allowed to be a little upset-”
“They’re poisonous to ferrets!” he exclaimed, tackling Draco to the sheets and tussling with him until they both lay there panting. “But fine. I will feed you chocolates. It’s what I was planning on doing anyway, you git. Happy Valentine’s Day!” he huffed.
Draco merely smiled. He pressed one more tantalizing kiss on Harry’s lips before drawing away.
“Then, and I repeat, get on with it.”