A/N: …You know, I'm not going to say anything up here. It would ruin it. Author's Notes for real at the bottom. This is a one-shot drabble. And no, she's NOT an original character.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, and make no money off this fanfiction.

I and my Master

She had been regal once, queenlike, a tigress. She had been beautiful and alluring, full of a grace and vivacity that could not be entirely attributed to her youth. She still had that effortless grace, but she not a queen any longer. She was a ruined version of her former self, made gaunt and ragged by the ravages of sickness, starvation, and time. The fallen beauty was no longer sick nor starving, thanks to her Master, but the hardships had left their mark on her. And even this once-beauty could not halt was time did to her once sleek and muscular body. She did not count herself old, not yet, but she was no longer young, either.

She supposed she had never really known loyalty before she met her Master. Those she had stayed with before had only been with her a day, maybe more, before the task of merely surviving had ripped them apart. She had grown up on grimy streets, fighting for her life for as long as she could remember, and winning that fight, too. Every day had been a struggle to stay alive, to find food, and, for a short while, she had managed to stay on top of the mad battle for life in the dark alleyways of London. She was not merely a survivor. She had been a queen of survivors.

She was not sure, looking back, whether sickness or her age had caught up to her first. And she supposed it hadn't really mattered, anyway.

When she had first met him, it was raining and she was dying.

He had looked at her for a long moment, seeming not to notice the sheeting rain that was drenching him. He had stared at her, lying in the dirty alley on her side while the rain robbed her of what little body heat she had. She was too weak to move. She hadn't eaten for days, and the fever sapped what little strength she had left. All she could do was stare back at him with eyes wearied from the struggle of her everyday life, and beg for the thing she was too weak to voice.

Please, let me die. Kill me. I'm so tired. Please let it end.

But he hadn't killed her. He had taken her back with him, nursed her, fed her, cared for her and kept her warm and dry. She recovered quickly under his care. He talked to her often, in a soft, warm voice he used for no one else. He was a lonely man, an outcast among his own kind. She decided to stay with him then, and from that moment on he was her Master.

They made a good team, once she learned her way around her new home. She was not the huntress she used to be, but she still helped her Master in his never-ending quest to strike out against those he could never be like. Those who had rejected them. She hated them for that. In time, they came to hate her, as well.

This night she padded silently behind him, slipping between the patches of moonlight in the dark corridor. There was a flash of movement just ahead, and she knew her Master couldn't see it in the dark. She darted forward, crying out, and her Master followed almost instinctively. They had long ago learned to read each other. Even if he couldn't see the figure, he knew that she had.

There was a brief chase, but their quarry didn't have a chance of escaping them in the dark. Her Master grabbed the boy by the upper arm, leering into his defiant face.

"Out of bed after hours, are we?" he snarled, in the tone of voice reserved for these sorts of trespassers. "That won't do. Who's your head of House, boy?"

"Professor McGonagall," the boy grumbled, looking away. He caught sight of her, lounging by the wall and watching him with the sort of righteous pride she always had when she caught those her Master hated. He aimed a kick at her. She dodged fluidly, and he stubbed his toe on the wall.

"Stupid cat."

-------------------------

A/N: Bet you weren't expecting that! I don't know what originally inspired this, but I was going through my fanfiction files one day while I was procrastinating when I stumbled across this half-completed little gem. I finished it up, did a little polishing, and voila! Mrs. Norris drabble. I bet you don't see a lot of fanfics about her, do you? XP It makes me sad that there's no "Mrs. Norris" or "Filch" under the character selection. v.v

If you've bothered to read this far, I would appreciate a review! Thanks X)