Chapter Text
It wasn't easy being a Malfoy.
Draco Malfoy decided this one day while reclining on his bed, his homework spread out in front of him, not that he was actually doing said homework. No he was far to busy watching his familiar, a gray and black stripped cat with green eyes, savage his favorite, most expensive, green jumper.
Take for example said jumper, which was now in about ten different pieces, each one getting his cat Morgana's individual attention for about five seconds before she moved on to the next part. It really had been a wonderful jumper, the spells woven into the yarn were some of the most expensive ones you could buy. It had always looked new, never getting any of those annoying fuzzies that had a tendency to appear on other more inferior jumpers, and it actively repelled possible stains. Plus he never had to get rid of it for being outdated, it would mimic whatever the latest style was, and had been spelled specifically to grow with him, so it would have always fit him no matter what. But apparently not even the great expense paid or the spells cast could protect his favorite jumper from a bored, discontented Cat.
He supposed that he could blame the house elves for this. After all it was their fault in a round about way. Morgana had been given to him by his favorite teacher, Professor Snape, and if it weren't for that fact she would have been kibble for father's dogs a long time ago. She was kind-of a 'get well' present for the time that he had spent recovering from the lingering effects of being hexed on the train home after fourth year. By the time he was fully recovered, father had decided that she couldn't stay in the house, as a matter of fact she wasn't allowed inside at all. This had all come about because Morgana had seen and decided to make father's wand her plaything.
So from fending for herself in the wilds of the Malfoy back yard, she had learned a type of self-reliance, and even after being lured into a box and being transported to Hogwarts, she had preferred to roam the halls rather then spending time around him. Everything worked out though because they had come to a basic understanding, he didn't interfered with anything she was doing and she neglected to claw, bite or in general be nasty to him. It may not have been a relationship based on equality but it worked for them.
Draco supposed that Morgana knew that he was supposed to be her master, or rather he suspected that she thought of him as her human. After the end of the fifth year at school, Draco had quite forgotten to find Morgana for the trip home, but when he had woken from the resulting hexes on the train, she was sitting perched on his chest, glaring down at him. He had tried to push her off his chest, but the resulting hiss and swipe of claws across his face coupled with the weakness of his entire body convinced him that he could get along just fine with her there.
So now mother was insisting that Morgana stay inside over the summer hols, and on her orders the House Elves were doing everything they possibly could to make the stupid cat comfortable, anything the cat wanted they gave her. They also had decided that the wouldn't interfere in whatever she was getting into not that he blamed them, he had gotten clawed for his attempts in stopping her from destroying his stuff one too many times. That and she somehow managed to dodge spells flung at her with an uncanny ease.
So what was a board cat to do with her time when suddenly food was being brought to her, and there was a house full of things that her boy owned. Draco guessed that it was only logical that she savaged his favorite jumper, among other things.
Now if he took these bits of yarn that were laying all over his bedroom floor, and he took them to his mother, she would look at the bits sadly, before lamenting how much the jumper had cost. She would then proceed to give him 'the look' while he explained that it was the House elves fault, because mother couldn't believe that his sweet little kitty Morgana could do anything wrong, and he would then ask could he please get a new one. Then Narcissa Malfoy, socialite and best-dressed witch in her peer group, would frown thoughtfully before shaking her head and explaining that now with his father gone, they must make certain economies in their budgeting, and could Draco please take better care of his things. Then she would take the ruined bits from his hands and she would send them somewhere, and that would be the end of it.
She acted like father being in prison had completely dried up all the money associated with the Malfoy name, hardly! Draco could probably start spending money like a drunken gambler and by the end of his life not have spent it all. (Not like Draco expected to live past age 25 anyway.)
No he wasn't going to tell Mother about the ruined jumper. He really didn't want to hear that damn speech again. It was bad enough when he had shown her is newly ruined best dress robes, or his favorite dragon hide shoes, even his treasured book on nearly forgotten dark arts, compiled and signed by the Dark Lord Voldemort himself. Really if he heard that damn spiel one more time he was going to lose what little grip he had on his sanity and he would be damned if he was going to be held responsible for his actions!
Draco glared at the cat that was now contentedly cleaning her coat of the green fuzzies that it had collected during her exercises. Draco smirked now not only were the house elves going to have to clean this mess up, but they were also going to have to clean up green hairballs, and knowing his cat, they would be strategically placed in a variety of key walkways.
This thought cheered him slightly, but the fact that it was his jumper soon diminished that brief feeling of joy. He watched grumpily from his bed as Morgana ambled over to a clean patch of floor that the sun was shining on, before plopping down sleepily.
Stupid Cat!