Disclaimer:I do not own Mrs. Norris, or anything recognizable from Harry Potter, J.K. Rowling does.

In Wet Grass

It was early morning when she crawled in the wet grass. She straightened her ears; trained to track the tiniest of noises made when a mouse was trying to sneak past her.

She could hear it now. She was not the young feline she used to be, but her hearing was sharp and so was her sense of smell. When she sniffed the cold morning air, she could recognize a sea of smells – soggy ground, wet grass, walls of old buildings, traces of countless feet that had crossed the very place she laid.

The mouse was close. One jump and Mrs. Norris would be satisfied with a fresh breakfast. Not that she must, a Big One, her Big One, would provide her with a tasty meal whether she caught something or not. These were good times.

But it wasn't always like this.

There was a time when she was a happy mother, but this would not last. The small cellar she was in ceased to be a shelter – it became her trap. As she was laying with her eight peacefully sleeping kittens she smelt a strong scent. This smell promised a painful death. She caught a nearby kitten and jumped through a window. She came back for the next, but there were too many of them, and so little time to move them all.

As the red glowing monster ate the building and her remaining children, she cried for them to get out. She cried with all her desperation, but they couldn't reach the window and she was too afraid to go back in.

She took the two survivors, a girl and a boy, and looked around trying to find a new shelter and something to eat. The loss hurt her as much as her belly, where she spotted a dirty, bold spot where milky-white fur used to be. It hurt her when the little ones nestled their tiny heads there to find a drop of milk.

She found something big and still warm to lie under. It was free of snow and ice, even if there was a small puddle of something black near by. But her shelter roared and moved, leaving her without a roof, without warmth, again.

She took her little ones and searched for another building. She waited patiently while Big Ones walked in and out. When the entrance was clear, she carefully entered inside and curled under something metal and warm. She dozed off, the nightmare she survived replaying in her dreams. A voice woke her.

"Mommy, look! A cat!"

The smaller Big One was pointing his finger at her. She curled protectively around her kittens, not knowing what to expect. Big Ones were bad. Big Ones kicked, threw stones, pulled fur mercilessly. Big Ones would kick her out of peaceful shelters.

"Yes Danny, and a rather dirty one."

The bigger Big One had a calm voice, but she was smart. She would not trust a Big One. Ever.

"Cats have a pointy, sharp teeth. They are wild and bloodthirsty. They can cut a throat with their claws."

She moved further under the warm thing. She couldn't understand the smaller Big One, but the tone of his voice was accusing, threatening, almost frightening.

"No, Danny. You watch too much TV. I'll call the "Animal Shelter" and they will take the cat."

"And kill it?"

"No, they will just take it. Cats stink, and we don't want the stench, now do we?"

She watched them through half opened lids, her body tense and ready to defend her little ones, but they went away. Some time later another Big Ones appeared.

She tried to fight but they took her and her children. She spent some time in a roaring, smelly thing similar to the one she hide herself under some time ago. They brought her to a place with white walls, where a different Big One dressed in white examined her.

This place smelled of fear, of diseases and pain. She crouched down trying to cover her belly as she hissed and made use of her claws, but the Big One touched her anyway. It put some disgusting substance in her mouth and forced her to swallow it. Then there were needles and itchy liquids smeared on her belly.

She felt numb and tired after all and fell asleep against her will.

First thing was the smell. There were cats, like she, for sure, and her little ones, and food.

Then she opened her eyes. There were so many of them in one room with a large window. Most of them slept on the floor, like her. Some of them were on the windowsill, and two were on a shelf just under the ceiling.

She spotted three more kittens curled near her, bigger and older than her little ones.

"You are awake!" Shouted the biggest one with snow-white fur. Before she spoke to him, he turned his head to the rest of the room.

"Mommy is awake!"

"Why do you call me mommy? You are not my child," she said gently, but firmly.

"Because you're the only mommy one here."

He moved closer and sniffed . "You smell like 'Isolated Room'."

She almost immediately started to lick herself, her rough tongue cleaning the stench from her long fur. She stopped in mid-move and looked at the white kitten.

"Where is your mum?"

He sighed sadly and looked at the moonlight shining through the window glass.

"Dead. And none of us will breed. Big ones will do it to you too. They," he pointed at her two sleeping children "are your last ones."

"Big Ones are bad," she said with confidence.

"Not all of them."

A/N: This story would never be posted without wonderful job of my beta reader, Cat Paws.

Thanks for reading!