A/N: Year's ago there was a story called 'The Green-eyed Himalayan Cat' by an author whose name I forgot. I loved it when I read it and wanted to write a Harry is Karupin story myself and asked them if that was okay. They said yes, and I started on this only to get distracted and find it buried years later under several other abandoned story starts. The original story is no longer posted which makes me sad, but I didn't want to leave this idea is a dusty corner forever.

The Cat's Meow

Stress wasn't a foreign concept to Harry. Every day seemed to lead to more and more in his young life. He couldn't remember a time when he wasn't stressed. One of his first memories was Aunt Petunia dragging him to the stove, putting him on a chair and telling him to watch the bacon. He didn't know how to watch the bacon. Was it going to run away? After a while Aunt Petunia returned and screamed at him for letting it burn. It was looking a little black, but he didn't know what he was supposed to do when that happened. It changed colours the whole time. That's when he started feeling stressed. Every day after that came with new challenges, more things that he had to worry and stress over. Clean this, cook that, wash all of these things… it was a never-ending mountain of things to do.

He learned about stress and what it meant a year after Aunt Petunia put him in charge of breakfast. Stress isn't healthy he heard. One of the neighbours mentioned that her niece got a new job that put so much pressure on her that she worried day and night about it. All that stress had caused her to have a break down. She was currently in a special hospital to help put her back together. Harry almost cried when he heard the news. He knew he was stressed and now he had to worry about his limbs falling off!

That night he was fixing his relative's dinner, his arm started feeling weird. The heavy pan in his hand started to wobble and then his arm started to grow heavy and cold. When the weight finally became too much for him and he dropped it, he burst into tears straight away. Uncle Vernon appeared and started to yell, while Aunt Petunia scolded him from the side. Through the tears and noise, Harry managed to scream that he didn't want his limbs to fall off from stress. Uncle Vernon stuttered to a halt at that and Aunt Petunia sent him a searching look.

"Alright boy, you feeling stressed? Well I'll show you what your mother did when she got that way." It was the first time Harry had ever really heard his Aunt talk about his mother without an insult involved. The shock was enough to make him stop crying. Aunt Petunia grabbed him by the back of the neck and marched him toward a wall. She smashed his head against the wallpaper and left him. "Keep your head there and count to ten. If that doesn't work, count again until you calm down. When you're finished- clean this mess up."

Harry started to count. Quite quickly since he knew Aunt Petunia wouldn't want her kitchen floor to be messy for long. It didn't work though. His heart just sped up knowing that he wasn't doing whatever he was supposed to be doing right. He tried again but no matter how fast he counted he wouldn't calm down. He could feel tears prickling his eyes, his breathing sped up. This wasn't helping.

"Count slowly you idiot child. Get yourself together. Vernon, I think we will have to eat out tonight. The boy is completely useless," Aunt Petunia spoke up.

Harry slowed his counting. He tried going at half speed and he did feel a little better when he hit ten. He slowed it down even more, breathing deeply as he went. Each time he hit ten he felt a little better. He kept going, finally feeling better on the seventh go around. When he stepped away from the wall, he felt lighter, like it was easier to breathe. His heart settled finally.

He carried on from there. Whenever he got stressed, he would plonk his forehead on a wall and count slowly. Sometimes when his Aunt saw him do this, she would finish the task for him, but most times she would tell him to keep going when he finished counting.

The days leading up to Harry's eleventh birthday had been calm. Nothing was out of the ordinary, just how the Dursley's liked it. The days passed slowly with little to no excitement… until the letters started appearing. Oh, Harry hadn't planned to be the cause of his Uncle's breakdown, it just kind of… happened… but he would never say he regretted it.

The entire thing came about because Uncle Vernon went slightly crazy over the mysterious letters he started receiving. Not the 'yell at the heavens with a tinfoil hat so the government doesn't steal your thoughts' kind of crazy… but more of a 'these letters better stop before I set fire to every blasted owl in Britain' type of crazy. It wasn't a common crazy, at least Harry didn't think so, but it happened and it led to them driving around England looking for the most remote location where an owl could never find them.

They had stayed at a motel the first night until the letters buried the front desk and an upset looking manager promptly kicked them out. The next day as Uncle Vernon drove around looking at forest clearings and open fields, he suddenly came to a stop. He got out of the car near the harbor, looked around and spotted a little hut on a rock out in the water. He was about to approach a sketchy looking man before he shook his head and got back in the car and drove them straight to the airport. "The only way to avoid them is to leave the country!" He loudly declared as he parked the car and ushered them all through the airport.

Tickets were bought for the earliest flight out and Vernon sat them in the waiting area as he bought four bags and shoved some gift shop t-shirts in them with extra socks. "All we'll need where we're going," he muttered as he perused the items on the counter while the clerk rang up his purchases.

They boarded the plane and landed in Florida where Uncle Vernon practically skipped out of the airport. He stopped to rent a car and then they were on their way again. The plan was solid, except… apparently even the vast ocean couldn't stop the owls. Two days after arriving, Uncle Vernon was woken as the front desk rang the room and told him that large piles of letters were waiting for a 'Mr. H Potter. Room 307, Orchard Hotel, Orlando Florida.'

From there a rage happened. Anger he had never seen his Uncle display before. Uncle Vernon shot up out of bed and started screaming into the phone, telling the poor lady at the front desk to '-burn all those foul letters, and call animal control to shoot every owl in sight!' he bellowed, he stomped, and when he finally slammed the abused receiver down he stormed over to Harry and tore him away from where he was resting his head against the dresser.

"Boy!" he started. "I'm tired of this! I can't live like this. I have a job, a family to provide for, and if I go crazy with all these blasted letters how will they live. I'm done!"

Harry trembled in fear as his uncle's face got redder and redder. A vein started throbbing over Vernon's left eye, spittle was slamming into his face and with each word his uncle's fist squeezed harder and harder against his throat. "M-maybe you c-could try c-counting…" he tried to speak. It worked for him after all.

"I'm done! You want to know why these letters keep coming? Because you're a freak! You're a stick waving, gibberish spouting, voodoo casting unnatural magical freak just like your mother!" Vernon yelled.

If he could breathe, Harry imagined he would have had made a very shocked noise at the announcement. His uncle clearly went off the deep end if he was talking about magic. His entire time living with the Dursley's, Vernon always told him things like magic didn't exist. For him to be believing in it now meant something seriously wrong was happening in his Uncle's brain.

"If they want you so badly they can have you! I'll tie you to boat and ship you out to sea. Let's see how far their determination goes then eh? Will they go all the way out there to get you or let you die?"

A deep pit of fear churned wildly in Harry's stomach at his uncle's words. He wouldn't really tie him to a boat and leave him be, would he? The more he thought about it the more Harry was certain that his uncle would do just that. He had been threatened before in the past about being left somewhere, and once Uncle Vernon had done just that. He left Harry outside a football stadium and where the police found him wrapped around a garbage can, his head against the metal, and counting to ten. They returned him later that night, and Vernon pretended to act all worried and blamed Harry for lying about going to a friend's. He would do it, and Harry knew that he would die. His stress levels were spiking and he just knew something was going to fall off.

Magic wasn't real. No one was looking for him, which meant as soon as he was left to sea he would no doubt die. The fear in his belly slammed against his sides like fierce waves crashing onto the land. He didn't want to die! Harry desperately begged and pleaded with any higher power that would listen to just let him live, to send someone to come and save him.

Harry clenched his eyes closed tightly and let the fear wash over him, letting it power his prayers so that they may reach God, Allah, Buddha, heck if he was going out to sea even Poseidon was an acceptable choice to hear his desperate prayers. He wasn't being picky at the moment, whoever granted his wish would have his eternal faith and loyalty.

"-can't wait to be done with you!" His uncle muttered angrily as he started carrying Harry towards the door. At that moment Harry wished he could just turn his body and escape. As soon as the door opened, he wished he had the ability to slip through his uncle's fingers and just dart away, to run to safety.

He could hear the lock thud as his uncle flipped it open and then the soft churning of the handle turning. As the bottom of the door dragged over the carpet, Harry acted. He didn't know where the strength or bravery came from; it felt like his body was moving on its own. In one second, as he twisted his body his hand snapped out and scratched the back of his uncle's hand. His body dropped to the floor and he ran down the hallway on all fours. He raced around the corner and upon seeing the elevator doors closing; he pushed himself harder and managed to slip through them just in time.

Panting Harry dropped to the floor and closed his eyes in relief. He escaped. He managed to get away.

"Che. Some idiot lost their cat," a young voice sounded from above him. Slowly opening his eyes, Harry looked up, and up, and up until he spotted a young Asian boy staring down at him. Beside the boy stood a man with a scruffy appearance and a nice looking woman. Together they looked like the boy's parents.

"Ryoma, that's not nice to say. Someone might be worried about him," the woman scolded her son.

He wasn't really listening to the conversation because he tried to stand up to only find that he didn't get any taller. It finally happened. All the stress had made his legs fall off! He was going to die in this elevator because he would never be able to walk out. The staff might help him by getting him to a doctor but he was pretty sure his Uncle would never let them get his legs back from the room. His legs were gone forever! This was it. No matter how fast he ran or what he did, he couldn't escape.

His breathing sped up, and all his stress signs were coming out. Harry didn't want to find out what else might fall off. Walking to the wall, Harry bumped is head against it and started to count. Inhale deeply, one, exhale slowly. Inhale deeply, two, exhale slowly. Inhale deeply, three, exhale slowly. His breathing was coming back to him, and his mind was coming together.

The man was looking at him curiously, but Harry didn't care as the boy's words echoed through his mind. 'Cat?' Looking around the elevator he couldn't see a cat. What was the boy talking about? Deciding to sit up as best he could in his new condition, and ignore the family, Harry rose to his feet and paused. Feet? Frowning, Harry tried to stand up taller but his four legs weren't letting him get any bigger. He stopped. Four legs? Frantically looking down, Harry noticed two little black paws in front of him and looking behind he noticed a long black tail.

The word 'Cat' started echoing loudly through his mind. He couldn't really be a cat could he? He was a boy! He was a young eleven-year-old boy with no legs and two arms, and no tail. Walking closer to the reflective elevator doors, a sense of dread washed over him when the face of a white furry cat stared back. His stress levels hit maximum level as a barely audible strangled 'mew' escaped his mouth before he flopped over sideways in a dead faint.

He was a bloody cat.

o.O.o

When he woke up, Harry took a steadying breath and bopped his head against the soft fabric under him. It was all a dream. It had to be! He wasn't a cat that was just silly. It was his imagination acting out. Nope, when he opened his eyes he would be on the floor in the hotel room, Dudley would be sleeping on the couch nearby, and his Aunt and Uncle would be taking up the bed. Yup, that's how it was going to be as soon as he opened his eyes.

But it wasn't. Instead of the rough generic carpet of the hotel's floor, Harry was nearly blinded by the harsh yellow light from the table lamp. Mewing in displeasure, Harry clenched his eyes closed and wrapped his tail around to cover them.

Tail…mews… Harry whimpered pathetically as his hopes were dashed. He was a cat. Whether by divine intervention or magic, he didn't care because he was a cat. A cat…this would take some getting used to. His head was going to be forever stuck to every flat surface he could find because he had no idea how his anxiety was ever going to go away.

Harry was so caught up in his thoughts that the feeling of someone petting him gave him quite the shock. Jumping up in fear, Harry whipped around to see the Asian boy from before staring at him with wide eyes. The shock on the boy's face, Ryoma was it, was quickly gone though.

Ryoma's face developed a determined edge just before the boy reached out and attempted to pet Harry again. Too scared to move and not sure what to do, Harry allowed the boy to pet him. The strokes were soft and confident, easing Harry's fur down. They were comforting… Harry wasn't sure he had ever been treated so softly before. A rumbling started in his chest and soon he was batting his head against Ryoma's hand, wanting to be petted more as his purring escalated in volume. It was probably the first time his stress went away without counting.

"Stupid Oyagi, he said I wasn't good with animals," Ryoma whispered.

Harry agreed. Whoever this 'Oyagi' was, clearly didn't know that Ryoma was a master of petting.

Soon enough, Ryoma stopped his ministrations and Harry heard himself cry out in disappointment. Without the comfort offered to him by Ryoma, his stress was coming back. The boy gave him a small smile at his noises and scooped Harry up into his arms. Nuzzling against the boy's warm chest, Harry felt very comfortable and relaxed as he listened to the steady beat of Ryoma's heart.

"Oyagi, the cat's awake," Ryoma called out as the entered the hallway and approached the open door opposite.

The scruffy man from before appeared suddenly, "Look at that, he likes you. I thought for sure he would scratch your eyes out or something. Ha ha ha! Not nearly as feisty as I thought."

"Che. I'm keeping him," Ryoma boldly declared. Harry felt like he should have protested or made another escape attempt but Ryoma was scratching between his ears and it was the best feeling in the world. As far as he was concerned if he were going to be a cat, he would rather like to stay with Ryoma and his magical fingers that chased all stress away.

"Seishonen … He probably has an owner who is very worried about him," Oyagi argued.

"Che." Ryoma didn't bother listening to his father's words. Instead the boy walked away and into his room. Harry giggled at the action, slightly impressed with the boy's attitude. He would never dare act in such a manner to Uncle Vernon, but it was interesting to see others do it.

"Baka Oyagi," Ryoma whispered under his breath. The boy lightly dropped Harry on his bed and then picked up a sports bag. He dug around in it before pulling out some black tape. "If I make you a collar then you're mine," Ryoma stated firmly.

Harry watched as the boy used the Hotel's message pad to scribble down 'Ryoma's cat'. He ripped the paper into a circle and then used the textured tape from his bag to make a collar and tape the paper circle around Harry's neck. "See, it says you're my cat. I'll name you later. Right now you have to stay here because I have a tennis tournament." Ryoma gave him one more scratch between the ears before taking his sports bag and leaving.

Apparently his rescuer was the two-time junior national tennis champion and was working on his third title. When the boy returned from the tournament, he told Harry about the people he played and how poor their skills were. He talked about how he hoped there would be more interesting opponents in the semi-finals, and how one day he would beat his father. Harry listened, finding the entire thing fascinating. He never had any friends to talk to, so listening to someone besides Dudley gave him a new view on the world.

Just as Ryoma was finished washing and was about to get dressed there was a knock on the door. Muttering under his breath, the grumpy boy threw on the hotel provided robe and opened the door to see a hotel worker standing on the other side. Harry carefully hid himself under the bed, and watched warily.

"I'm sorry to interrupt you sir, but another hotel guest has complained about his missing cat. According to the security camera's footage the cat was last seen being carried into your room," The worker rattled off in a clean and efficient manner. Harry shuddered. It seemed he hadn't escaped as he hoped. Vernon had roped the hotel staff into searching for him and if he was caught, Vernon would probably strangle him in his new form.

Ryoma glared at the worker. "I saw him and brought him here because he fainted. But when I returned from my tournament he had escaped through the open window. Maybe you should check the grounds," the boy lied.

The worker seemed displeased as he spoke next, "Would you mind if I just quickly checked your room? Just as a precaution."

"Che." Ryoma sent a small glare at the worker. "I'm 11 and naked under this robe. I think it would be best if you went and got one of my parents before you enter my room," Ryoma spoke calmly. The worker seemed embarrassed by the boy's words and promptly blushed and apologized.

"You're right of course. I'll just go ask permission first," the worker hurried off and Ryoma shut the door behind him.

"Cat, we need to find you a good hiding spot," Ryoma declared.

Harry crawled out from under the bed and mew'd at the boy. He wanted to apologize and tell the boy that he should just let Harry go. It would be a lot less trouble for the boy if he forgot all about Harry. But, with his new form he could only meow pathetically and hoped that the boy wouldn't get hurt form his Uncle's rampage.

Ryoma went over to his luggage and threw on some clothes quickly as he looked around. "Do you think you can fit in a drawer?" He asked.

Harry frowned- at least he thinks he did. He didn't know how his new face worked. He probably could but it was most likely that the worker would find him. Mewing sadly, Harry walked over to the balcony and pawed at the door, trying to get Ryoma to understand. The boy looked sad and like he wanted to protest, but Harry gave him the biggest eyes he could, trying to convey to the boy that he would come back.

"You better come back," Ryoma told him sternly. He opened the door though and Harry jumped lightly on the railing. It was nice having the cat like reflexes. Harry was happy to note that the balconies were all relatively close together which made it easy for him to skip from one to other. He only went four down before he settled down on a nice sunny spot to wait.

It didn't take long. Soon Harry could hear the worker stepping onto Ryoma's balcony and sighing as he saw Harry was at another resident's room. "Well he did escape… let's hope he stays in one place," the worker said to Ryoma as he ducked back inside.

Harry didn't have any plans on staying. Nope as soon as the worker disappeared he stood up, stretched and leaped lightly down a few more rooms. The worker popped up at this previous room and huffed in irritation. Harry meowed in satisfaction. This was becoming fun.

Moving to a new location, Harry gave into his urge to groom himself. The whole licking oneself really should have weirded him out more, but it didn't. He stayed like that until the worker popped up again. "Just stay in one place, okay kitty?" the man tried to gently coax him. Harry carried on grooming as if he hadn't heard. Once the worker left, he slipped back a few balconies, and waited. This pattern carried on, Harry moving room to room until the worker called in back up. While a new hotel worker stayed on one balcony keeping a look-out, the first worker moved to the room specified.

It was irritating having his game intruded upon, so he needed a new plan. He stopped on a new balcony and looked down, contemplating the jump when a hand snatched his tail and yanked hard.

Screaming in pain, Harry whipped around and clawed at the culprit. As his claws sunk into meaty flesh, he froze. Uncle Vernon was staring down at him cruelly. It looked like he picked the wrong balcony to stop on. He hadn't known Ryoma was staying on the same floor as his family, but he should have guessed. After all they had just entered the elevator when Harry joined them.

"Hey! Let go of my cat, you're hurting him," Ryoma yelled from a few rooms over.

Vernon looked at the Asian boy and scowled. "This is my cat and I'll do what I like! Mind your own business you brat!"

Vernon grabbed him around the neck and pulled, trying to dislodge him. Harry hung on tightly, hoping to inflict as much damage as he could on his uncle.

"He's mine. Just look at his collar," Ryoma called back.

Uncle Vernon ignored him and continued his pursuit of strangling Harry. He stayed on though, trying to dig his teeth deeper and deeper, hoping the pain would cause his uncle to release him. Harry was happily surprised when his Uncle let out a strangled yelp and dropped him. Looking around Harry was stunned to see his uncle holding his neck and glaring at Ryoma. The boy was looking back smugly and twirled a tennis racket in his fingers.

"He's my cat," Ryoma stated firmly.

Harry shook himself from his shock and used the time to escape; leaping over a rolling tennis ball and onto the railing he quickly made his way back to Ryoma. The boy was expecting him and scooped him out of the air mid leap. He could hear Vernon yelling behind him, but he didn't pay attention as Ryoma was quick to cuddle him close and dashed through his room and into the hall.

Knocking hurriedly on the door opposite his room, Harry watched as Ryoma sent desperate looks down the hallway.

"Boy!" The bellows caused both Ryoma and Harry to tense and stare at the large man lumbering towards them.

The door opened and the man, Oyagi, was standing there looking concerned. Ryoma ducked behind him, hiding them as his uncle reached the door.

"Give me that cat!" He hollered.

"Yadda! He's my cat," Ryoma firmly stood behind his words.

"You give it here boy!" Uncle Vernon was colouring quickly.

The old man, who Harry had already written off, suddenly seemed larger and more intimidating as he pushed Ryoma and Harry further into his room. "I'm sorry sir, but who are you to chase and yell at my son?" He demanded.

"I'm the owner of that cat and your boy is nothing but a thief!" Vernon yelled, drawing other residents out of their rooms as well as the two hotel staff. "Give me that cat or I'll charge every single one of you!"

The poor hotel attendant that started the search was hovering at the side, cautiously approaching his uncle. "I'm sure that won't be necessary, I'm sure we can all work this out," he said in a placating tone.

"There's nothing to work out. This man here is harassing my son and trying to take his cat. Ryoma has had that cat for two years now, it was a gift after his first national win, and we will not be handing him over," Oyagi declared firmly.

The poor worker seemed flustered as the situation was spiraling out of control. "Sir, the security footage showed that-"

Oyagi cut him off though, "Showed what? The cat escaping his room and running after us? Obviously! The cat is very attached to Ryoma and didn't want to be left behind, so he probably jumped a few balconies saw a man about to leave his room and took the opportunity to follow."

"That's preposterous! That cat is mine and I shall have it back this instant!" Vernon hollered.

"Yadda. My cat," Ryoma petulantly spat out from behind the old man.

Vernon's face managed to discover a new shade of purple. He looked ready to push the old man out of the way and throttle the boy. The hotel worker tried to interject but he was a skinny fellow and didn't look like he wanted to get hurt. It was a scary situation and Harry wasn't sure what was going to happen next. He knew what he wanted to happen; he wanted Ryoma to keep him and for Vernon to leave, but his Uncle wasn't easily deterred.

"Listen boy, you will return that cat or I will have you and your whole family charged! I'm an important man! I will have my companies lawyers bury you so deep in legal charges that you will drown in debt!"

Suddenly the gentle woman entered the scene from behind him. She had a frown on her face and didn't look impressed at all. "Excuse me sir, but what are you planning to charge us with? From what I have seen and heard, your only problem is that you claim we stole your cat. Do you have any proof this cat is yours? Before you go throwing lawyers at us, I demand to see your papers. The only evidence we have that this cat belongs to anyone, is the collar it is currently wearing with Ryoma's name on it."

"Who are you?" Vernon demanded.

"A company lawyer and I can assure you that no company no matter how big or small will send their legal team after a family for a mere cat." The woman did not look impressed.

Harry held his breath, he curled up further against Ryoma, his head resting near the boy's heart again, and waited for his uncle to respond.

"Fine." Vernon threw his hands up. "If you want that blasted demon in your arms you can have him. I'm through with him. He's your problem now and if you know what's good for you, you'll strangle the bloody thing."

Ryoma held him tighter and moved further behind the old man to hide him. The boy didn't think too kindly of Vernon's words. The woman looked angry and Oyagi looked ready for a fist fight. The hotel worker meanwhile looked relieved that everything seemed to resolve itself. Vernon just turned and left, muttering to himself and probably making plans to return to England.

The hotel worker turned to leave, but he was stopped when Ryoma opened his mouth. "That man tried to enter my room when I was naked."

"He what?" Both parents yelled.

The worker blushed deeply and tried to stammer out an explanation but Ryoma was a brat and didn't let him. "I told him I was naked and he still insisted on coming in. He only went away when I told him I would tell you."

The woman was livid as she stormed out of the room. Harry watched amazed as the woman manhandled the worker down the hallway and towards the elevators. The old man ushered Ryoma into his room and told him to stay there and pack while he helped his mother take care of the man. They were changing hotels, and the old man wanted Ryoma packed as soon as possible as he didn't want his son left in such a hostile hotel environment when he was so close to winning.

Harry really didn't mind since he was getting away from Vernon. He was sure that if he stayed with his Uncle, it was a very strong possibility that he would have been killed. He would think on this whole cat issue later.

After getting his bags packed, Ryoma had refused to put him down. They waited until the Old Man came back and then they trooped out. As they were passing the lobby, they could see Vernon and Petunia at the front desk making quite the scene. He didn't hear the whole thing but what he did understand was that Vernon was furious that the Hotel was charging him for room damage.

Petunia was fiercely nodding along and threatening terrible reviews as Vernon loudly explained that he wouldn't be paying for the broken television. Harry didn't know when that happened but he had a feeling that Dudley was involved. Luckily they weren't noticed as Harry didn't want to be seen. What if his Uncle changed his mind and did really want to tie him to a boat?

The steady beat of Ryoma's heart against his ear calmed his worries. It was a strong thump thump that made him think that no matter what, this boy would find a way to keep him safe.