Author's Note: What do you get when you are severely sleep deprived, have had way too much caffeine, a bunch of pixie sticks, and two pet ferrets running around? This. Don't take this too seriously. I certainly don't.

Crack fic. Obviously.

JKR owns all.

Chapter 1, Squeak Squeakers, Squeak Squeakums

Three days, twenty two hours, and forty five minutes.

That is precisely how long I have been residing within my current state of a pathetic, helpless existence.

Normally I would not object to being locked inside the dormitory, unable to attend those miserable excuses that the mudblood loving Professors call classes, but if you could see me now, you would understand the reason for my anxiety.


You heard me.

I'm anxious.

My name is Draco Malfoy, and that was the first honest statement that I have made in...



Three...carry the two...

In Salazar only knows how long. But I suspect it numbers somewhere around four years, seventy two days, and thirty sex...I mean six hours.

What? Stop looking at me like that! I'm a randy teenage boy and if you had been locked up in the girl's dormitory, staring at girls in their knickers for as long as I have, you would have sex on the brain too! Be you male, female, still deciding, or in transit on some muggle nutters operating table somewhere. See? I'm not as troglodytic as Granger claimed. I know about Muggles. I'm cultured damn't!

Now you may ask why Draco Malfoy, the Slytherin stud, is not doing something about his raging hormones, when he is obviously surrounded by willing and able girls.

And if you didn't ask, then you may ask what I am doing in a small cage, locked up, in the corner of the Gryffindor girl's dormitory.

You're obviously confused. If I were in your place, I would be too.

You're also probably wondering why I have been so polite to you thus far. Because obviously if you are up here, you must be one of those Gryffindor, mudblood-loving freaks, whom are never lucky enough to be graced with my prestigious presence.

But when one has been transfigured into a ferret for calling the Head Girl a stupid Mudblood one too many times, one tends to learn humility.

Do you see my dilemma?

Who would have thought that the Mudblood had it in her?

Of course she did do this while we were conducting Prefect rounds together - against our will I might add! Do you honestly think I would ever willingly sign on for Prefect duty with the Know-It-All Granger? Her hair might explode like Devil's Snare and smother me to death just being in her vicinity in this horrid Spring humidity.

Frying Skrewts! What do you take me for? Some sort of inter-house unity toting half-blood freak?

Now you would think that when only one of us returned from Prefect duty, that someone (one of my house mates, perhaps?) would have wondered why my amazing self did not show up in the dorm that night.

Of course they probably assumed that me being, well….me, that I had found some gorgeous and eager beauty to occupy my time.

So my dorm mates are forgiven for that lapse.

But Granger!

As it was, before the insult (cough Harsh Truth cough) was even out of my mouth she had spun around with the wrath of Hera, hexed me in a decidedly Slytherin-like manner (I almost respected the underhandedness), and bounced me to the girl's lavatory, before dunking me repeatedly into Moaning Myrtle's toilet.

As if that wasn't bad enough she then bounced me into one of the sinks and nearly drowned me under the faucet, claiming she could not bring a stinky pet back to her dorm.

As if anyone would have noticed my stench above her own.

All in all I put up quite a fight, and now that meddling Mudblood has claw marks up and down her forearms.

I hope they get infected.

Salazar knows that it took me the better part of an hour, licking my claws clean in the moonlight, to get her filthy essence off me.

It was only after I had finished that horrid task that it occurred to me that I had just ingested Mudblood filth.

I'd literally licked dirty blood off my dirty claws.

Yes father, if you can see my now, please strike me dead where I hang upside down.


Damn him! He never was one for niceties!

Ah but where was I?

Ah yes: Getting to the dorm, pre-claw licking trauma.

Well on the upside, I found out the Gryffindor password. What kind of house uses flavored mints as passwords anyhow?

Well the kind that has four clingy, annoying girls waiting upstairs for you. The kind of house where the seventh year girls will coo, ooh, and ah at how cuddly a pet ferret looks.

They even tried to pet me!

I am not some common house pet people!

And that damnable Granger just looked on with her 'oh so annoying' smirk.

Salazar's undead basilisk I hate her!

I did try to bite that Patil twin's finger off when she had the audacity to mar me with her own filthy touch, but that only resulted in her flipping me upside down and petting my stomach.

And let me tell you something, that girl had no idea where her hand was.

Needless to say, the first night like this went better than expected.

After that it was all downhill, with Granger doing her best to avoid me.

That Mudblood's hatred of me runs so deep that her SPEW-promoting-self ordered the house elves to feed and care for me. All so she doesn't have to come near me!

OH! And the worst part about that is my old house elf DOBBY is the one feeding me! I went on a hunger strike for about two hours, for fear that he would try and poison me since he seems to know who I really am, but hey... ferrets have fast metabolisms, and it was either that or start eating the bars again. To be honest, the ones on he East side of the cage had a nice leady flavor.

If I ever get out of this cage I am going to shit in Granger's shoes.

Ferret or not.

The only up side to this whole fiasco is that my hair is still the sleek, silky white that one of my stature should naturally possess. Even Granger's shoddy spellery failed to take that away.

The biggest downside is the litter box.

I mean have you ever had to back up your own rear end into a corner in order to do your business? In bare feet? Over rough gravel?

Just picture doing that, naked, in full view of the opposite sex, who are constantly cooing at you from behind your jail cell bars, while you are trying to take care of your animalistic functions!

I mean if they are stupid enough to stick their noses that close to where I am doing my deed, then they could at least have the courtesy to not recoil in terror, holding their noses, making "Ew! Stinky!" noises as if they were pittyling first years!

Of course, these are Gryffindors that we are talking about. I have a sneaking suspicion that their IQ's border on the non-existent.

Merlin must know that this Lavender priss is the only one in the school who can honestly compete with Goyle for the school's lowest academic rank.

Speaking of my underlings, shouldn't they have begun looking for me by now?

Salazar I hope so.

Do you see what being reduced to this state has done to me? Instead of thinking Salazar they better! I wind up thinking nicely!

Damn you to hell Mudblood! Your stupid slight-of-wand is messing with my mind! Either that or the lead poisoning.

But if my underlings don't find me soon...

Well, let's put it this way: I'm going to have one hell of an excuse for practicing Unforgiveables.

Of course, they deserve Unforgivables after this. I've been stuck drinking out of a water bottle for days.

Speaking of, did you know that any pet-water from these dangerously dangling bottle-like contraptions tastes like plastic? Perhaps the Mudblood gave me a fresh, right off the shelf, bottle. It's the least I deserve after all, and it might taint the flavor slightly for the first few days of usage before it-


I will not follow that train of thought any longer.

No. Instead I will curl up in my nice, soft hammock. It's rather comfortable you know. With its soft cottony clumps of fabric that I can curl up in. And it is oh so fun to dig at!

Ah, the joys of digging! I never knew how satisfying it was!

It's about the only thing that can piss off the Mudblood responsible for my current condition.

At least until someone puts a silencing charm around the cage. Then they can't hear me when I sharpen my nails by digging at the hard plastic platforms of it.

But I digress yet again!

I swear. Being a ferret. It does things to you.

My name is Draco Malfoy, the amazing, bouncing ferret, and Hermione-Mudblood-Granger's new pet.