Draco Malfoy was the kind of person who, for fun, killed small animals. He was, therefore, not amused when he became one. ******
". . . .so, just focus on the image of the squirrel in your mind, and flick-swish-twist." Blaise smirked appreciatively as his parchment became a fuzzy brown squirrel and looked at him. Damn he was good.

Looking up, he frowned at his students—if one could be as optimistic as to call them such. Crabbe was practicing his concentration, as evident by his pained and sweaty countenance. Goyle, beady eyes alarmingly vacant, practiced his flick-swish-twist with all the care of a blast-ended skewrt.

"Oh honestly! I don't know how you two made it to sixth year! Now hurry up, Transfiguration starts in 30 minutes and if you two fail today's test you'll fail the class! Again!"

Goyle turned his inkpot into a strangely black, wet-looking cupcake. He ate it.

Steam lost, Blaise stared. "You just ate your inkpot."

"I was hungry."

"Oh, well that seems reasonable." Blaise ducked Crabbe's rather enthusiastic version of 'swish' and prayed that Draco would be down soon to relieve him.

"Ahem, as I was saying," he gave them the 'strict face' and paused for effect. "You have to form a mental image of a squirrel—"

"I'm hungry."

"—and as you swish—"


"—not that much swish Crabbe"

"So swish-flick—"


"—not so hard Crabbe—"

"I'm hungry."



"—you have to—"

"I'm hungry."

"you have to—"


"—you have to—"

"I'm hun—"


With reflexes to make even the most seasoned brainless minion envious, both young wizards immediately stopped all movement and attempted to process this latest command. There was a pregnant pause. Then the synapses appeared to have connected, and a Crabbe and Goyle launched in a joint flurry of flick-swish-twist. A spell light erupted from the bent tip of Goyle's wand just before his arm and, strangely, a leg became entangled with his other half. With a grunt the two fell off the couch.

Blaise, grabbing his Transfiguration text, gave a long-suffering sigh and retreated to his dorm.

In the room, he tossed the book on his bed. "Draco I thought you said you'd help tutor those two lugs today. What took so long?"

No response.

Belatedly, he realized that he was alone, and talking to himself. Seeing no reason to stop, he didn't.

"Sneaky ferret. Must have run off while I was off doing all the work."

****** Meanwhile....

"Hey, what's that?"

Crabbe's eyes followed Goyle's outstretched, meaty finger.

"Is that a squirrel?"

"I don't know." A minute passed.

"You got that spell right!" Crabbe was in awe.

At such wild praise, Goyle's eyes went just a bit more glassy. In his excitement he rushed toward the proof of his genius.

The 'squirrel' took one look at his lumbering form, and leapt from it's place beside a couch straight toward the boys' dormitory.

While the leapt was graceful, the landing was not. It's furry paws failed to make purchase on the smooth stone steps, and the creature slide head-first into a wall.