A/N: Alright! Time to dust off the coffers and make some fan-fricken-fiction! Hope you enjoy, hope you review, hope you have a great year of the dragon!
It was the rise in the feline population that truly marked the inevitable downfall of Lord Voldemort, but that wouldn't be known for a long while yet. And why should it be? Everyone knew about that stray cat that lived under their neighbor's porch, or the alley cat that stayed behind the dumpster to wait for the restaurant to throw out its trash, perhaps they had been pregnant. It wasn't important, anyways, for the kittens had a queer perchance for wandering towards the Riddle House, and everyone knew what would happen to them there.
"It's another cat, my lord." The wheedling man was either irritated or scared by the small grey creature that was romping around in the overgrown yard outside, it was hard to tell which.
"Then kill it." It wasn't so much of a voice as it was a barely intelligible hiss that came from the high back chair, a voice that made sure Wormtail knew in no uncertain terms that it was irritated, and not only at the cats.
"But, my lord, with all due respect, when Jugson went to dispose of the last one-"
"Yes. I killed him for being unable to take care of a simple problem." His lord still did not bother to look at him, but Wormtail could hear the distinct slithering snicker of Nagini from her spot by the fireplace.
"Y-yes, my lord." The Animagus took a deep breath and gripped his wand. It was easy to believe that Jugson's wand really had encountered some technical difficulties, perhaps the dragon heartstring inside it had snapped from Crucio overuse or perhaps some termites had nibbled on it and rendered the thing ineffective. It would be easier to believe had there been any records of such a thing happening before. Dragon string was notoriously tough and termites that tried to dine on wands had a tendency to turn into petunias or simply turn into nothing. Still, it was better to hope that had been the case than to hope that the Dark Lord would be sympathetic and understanding. He made his way slowly to the door, pausing to fumble with the handle.
"Are you dawdling, Wormtail?" Voldemort sounded almost amused.
"No, my lord." He stopped his bumbling and opened the door, stepping into the overgrown yard. "Here, kitty. Good kitty, come to Uncle Peter, now."
The kitten, apparently a master of the English language or perhaps just pleased to have a playmate, stopped its travels across the weeds to look back at the human. With what he could only assume was a friendly meow, Wormtail watched the small furball trot over to him and rub against his leg. Well, perhaps this was going to be easier than he expected.
"Yes, good kitten, pretty kitten." He bent down to pet the mewling creature, slowly bringing his wand to the top of its head. He prepared himself to summon forth the deadly magic, feeling hate and bile rise in his veins and bring power to his spell and course through his wand. "Avada-" Suddenly the kitten looked up at him, bright blue curious eyes and a soft purr incapacitating him as a small paw reached up and batted at the wand tip.
"Kadavra?" Wormtail felt the magic leaving his body, slowly, shamefully, not wanting to look him in the face. "It's not my fault," he whined to the disappearing traces of the curse. "It startled me. I can try aga- oh it is rather cute, isn't it?" The kitten, now that its toy had been put into Wormtail's pocket, had taken to ramming its head against Wormtail's ankle repeatedly.
"Come here, then." The man bent down and picked the kitten up with one arm, leaving the other free to pet it with his silver hand. The back of his mind screamed at him desperately, trying to remind him that he had been given orders and bloody well needed to follow them if he valued his life in any sort of microscopic way. Wormtail ignored it, too engrossed with trying to give his new friend a name. "Topsy? No, what about Diamond? Too flashy? Hmm...well, you could always be a Mitten...yes...Mitten the kitten, I think that will do most nicely. Well then, Mitten, let's get you some milk, then, shall we? I'm sure we have some sort of dairy product for you somewhere." He scratched Mitten under the chin and went back through the front door. "Good news, my lord, I have successfully done...something about the kitten situation."
The uncharacteristically wispy voice was enough to finally prompt the Dark Lord to stand and face his servant. What he saw made his lips twist into a sneer. "Wormtail, is that the kitten that I told you to destroy?"
"Is it? Yes, I suppose it is. This is Mitten, my lord." Wormtail kissed the top of Mitten's head.
"Wormtail, does that kitten look destroyed to you?" The amusement in the Dark Lord's voice—and the pain it promised- was not completely lost on the man, and he frowned at the animal in his arms.
"Ah, well, no, my lord. It does not...appear to be...destroyed." Wormtail looked up from the kitten and into the Dark Lord's face, terror coming to replace the dazed expression he had been wearing. "Lord, please, I can explain-"
"Silence!" Voldemort held up his hand, then hissed something to Nagini. The large snake uncoiled itself slightly moodily, and grumbled something to her master about decency and letting a poor girl get some sleep around here, before she launched herself at the man who always smelled deliciously of rats. His scream was cut short by her fangs sinking into his throat, becoming more of a horrified gargle as he dropped to the ground and writhed. Mitten had escaped from his arms once the kitten had seen the snake begin to move, and now watched the wriggling sack of flesh continue to convulse even as the head disappeared into Nagini's gaping mouth.
"Incompetent fool." Voldemort nudged the body with his foot before turning to the kitten. It met his gaze with it's own unassuming one, and gently mewed. It was a small creature, no real magic of its own to be sure, or Voldemort would be able to feel something come from it. Still... Nagini had pointedly ignored it, and anyways something so small was hardly worthy of his power. "Get out." He waved his arms at the kitten and stepped forward. The kitten hissed at him, then seemed to note the size difference between them and ran out the door. Inside Nagini's mouth, the body of Peter Pettigrew at last grew still.
"No!" Inside the dormitory of the male 6th year Gryffindors, a boy with messy black hair and bright green eyes woke up with a start. Breathing heavily and sitting up, he brought his hand to the lightning-shaped scar on his forehead, where a bright pain was ebbing away.
"Harry?" The red-head in the bed next to his yawned and rolled over to face him, "you alright, mate?"
"Yeah, I'm fine." Harry shook his head , "just a bad dream, that's all."
"You sure? You don't think it was," Ron's voice dropped low. "You-Know-What or anything, do you?"
Harry thought for a moment, trying to pull back the wisps of his dream that were floating away. There had been Voldemort, yes, but also a...a kitten? Yes, there had definitely been a kitten, and Wormtail had named it Mitten. "No, Ron, it was just a bad dream."
"Alright. Night, Harry." The matter settled, Ron pulled the covers back over his head.