No Good Deed Will Go Unpunished
Author's Note: A number of people have commented that there is no such thing as a Black Abyssinian. I do beg to differ. If you take the spaces out of the below address you can get to my Photobucket and meet Harry Cat and the crew.
http:// s341 . photobucket . com/ albums/ o375/ lesdowich/
I told you it was magic, Photoshop magic! LOL
Argack! I was trolling through Eros and Sappho when I hit a story with the same title by the French Author, Lychee involving - you guessed it - Harry and Severus! I was gobsmacked but there again; anyone who ever watched Walt Disney probably saw the Aristo-cats and heard the song. I read the story by Lychee and was immensely relieved to find it was nothing like my story. True, Harry is a cat, but it is Animagus voluntary, and he likes his belly scratched, name a cat which doesn't. However, I am not writing slash and Lychee has so that's fine. I would recommend Lychee's story, it was very good, different, but excellent. Enjoy!
oo0oo
Finding out what had happened to Harry's trunk had become something of a nightmare for Severus. He knew it had been in the dormitory when Harry had been in seventh-year. After the final battle and Harry's injury, it had disappeared for all intents and purposes. He had first tried a simple Accio but nothing had arrived. He had consulted Minerva but she didn't have a clue. Even summoning the chief House-elf and asking the question had proved futile as none of the lesser House-elves had moved or touched it. It was as if the trunk and all its contents had been Evanseco-ed into thin air.
Sitting in his favourite chair and stroking Harry with slow, thoughtful absentmindedness, he allowed his memory to drift back over the complete chaos that had reigned when Harry finally defeated the Dark Lord. Chaos had been the operative word. Death Eaters materialising on Portkeys all over the place then Apparating and Disapparating with no apparent rhyme or reason; blasting out a curse then changing location to do it all again. Members of the Order were caught short, being mowed down left and right until they grew wiser and adopted the same tactics. Finally, Minerva and Filius had combined their skills; casting Apparition proof barriers over the whole area, replenishing the Hogwarts wards that Tom Riddle had crippled in his very first move.
Severus had backed the Golden Trio as they fought their way forward to where Tom had stood on the mound he had created, surveying the battlefield like some commander of yore. Ironically, that very arrogant stance made him easier to find, easier to approach and much easier to goad into single combat with one he felt was totally inferior. Of course, the idiot thought he had a hole-card but that proved to be all smoke and mirrors, thanks to the courage of a seventeen-year-old boy with more guts than brains.
The Potions Master sighed deeply, smiling down as said boy turned cat worked his way onto his back, offering his belly for a good rubbing. "Bloody sybarite," he commented, hoping no one else could hear the affectionate note in his voice. He had grown very fond of Harry Cat over the last five years, even Harry Human was tolerable, when he could be coaxed out to talk. And that was the crux of the problem, Harry Cat was starting to come out as Harry Human more often and, as Molly Weasley had so rudely pointed out, Harry Human had no clothes. So, that brought up the question of what happened to Harry's clothes, to all the things he used to think precious as his trunk had contained every worldly possession the Boy-Who-Lived-to-Survive-His-Relatives'-Less-Than-Tender-Mercies had ever owned.
"And what happened to your wand is another good and valid question," Severus muttered as he stared into the fire, the flames hypnotic at this time of night. Sighing again, he carefully eased the sleeping cat down into his basket and heaved himself out of his chair to wander off to bed.
oo0oo
Curses howled, hexes roared, men and women tried and died all around them as the Trio faced Voldemort with little more than blind faith and a Saviour who was already half dead from the concoctions he had been swallowing over the past two months. When the final curse rang out, Harry Potter was mortally wounded, sinking to earth to be caught by his best friend and eased to the ground. His limp hand uncurled, allowing his wand to roll away, fetching up against a sturdy and sensible black shoe. A pale hand snatched, the action half hidden by a bush of curly hair and the wand disappeared into a black school robe… Granger!
"Granger!" His own shout startled Severus out of sleep and he found himself standing on his mattress, wand in hand and a curse scar marring the stone of his bedroom wall. He huffed and grumbled as he sank down and carefully placed his wand back under his pillow, smoothing the ticking and linen pillowcase down carefully while he tried to conquer the adrenalin surging through his system. He was somewhat surprised that a curious black cat had not turned up at his bedroom door but was somewhat grateful that he had not been caught being so foolish. Lying down, he pulled the covers up to his chin and snuggled back down. If Granger had Harry's wand, perhaps she had other things belonging to that blasted cat.
oo0oo
"Severus! How lovely to see you," Hermione said, sounding like she meant it.
Severus smirked as the young woman unobtrusively peered over his person, obviously looking for the squirming lump that usually marked the position of her best friend.
"I did not bring Harry with me today. I am not here on a social call," Snape informed her, pulling off his gloves and placing them inside his cloak pocket very deliberately. "I have a question for you Mrs Weasley…"
"Granger-Weasley, Ms Granger-Weasley," Hermione put in softly as she waved the older man to a seat.
Snape paused looking puzzled and Hermione smiled. "It is now politically correct to call married women by the honorific MS and add both their single name and their married name with a hyphen between them," she informed her former teacher smugly.
"And I suppose your children carry both your names and when they marry they carry the names of their partners as well as themselves and the grandchildren end up with four last names. Why not just hex a pedigree on their on their foreheads in sparkling day-glo ink and have done with it? It would certainly save employing tutors to teach children their Family Allegiance, now wouldn't it?"
Hermione bridled at his flippant tone then sighed. "That's not how it works and you know it, Sir. Now, to what do I owe the pleasure of your company?"
"You do not have the facility to carry off sarcasm with any form of success," Severus told her smugly, pleased to have pulled a rise from her. He was mortified when she burst into tears, sobbing noisily into a handkerchief. "Miss Granger… Mrs Weasley… Hermione… do control yourself, please," he gasped and squirmed, wondering if he should just leave or get her a glass of water or something. Making children cry because he had meant to was one thing, making pregnant women cry by accident was quite another! He stood up and began to edge his way toward the Floo.
"I rea-ally try to-to make a differ-ence and all you e-e-ever do is mo-o-ock me!" She sobbed noisily. "And a big war-hero like you is driven away by a few tears from a pregnant woman," she added, peering over the wadded handkerchief with a rather mischievous glint in her eyes.
Severus turned and caught the look, tightening his lip. Then he bowed ironically. "Your trick, I believe, Ms Granger-Weasley," he offered, reseating himself with a shake of his head. Times had really changed, the respect he felt for this small woman overriding the anger he should feel at being the butt of a prank, harmless but humiliating. "How are you really feeling? I will probably have to satisfy the curiosity of half the female teaching staff if it ever comes to light that I have visited you."
Hermione giggled and Summoned the tea service as she Banished the handkerchief and poured them both a cup of tea. They spent a few moments discussing the pros and cons of nutrient potions and their uses in pregnancy before Severus felt comfortable in broaching the reason for his visit.
"Harry's wand? Why it's in his vault in Gringotts along with all his things." Hermione replied without hesitation, cocking her head to study the pale man a little more closely. "Surely you saw it last time you went to get some funds for him."
The silence stretched a moment too long before Hermione put it together. "You have never been to his vault, have you? You have not dipped into Harry's funds at all. All this time you have been supporting him yourself."
Looking down his nose, Severus sipped his tea then pinned her with a black gaze. "Harry Potter asked me to look after him, so I did as asked, not for money but because I owed it to him; the whole world owes him more than most of them could ever know or repay in this lifetime or the next. Besides, he is very low maintenance, I do assure you; a collar or two, kitty treats now and again, mere nothings."
Hermione wished she hadn't been so hasty in Banishing her handkerchief, a tear of pure sentiment edging her cheek. "You are a very special man," she told him, biting her lip and taking a deep, fortifying breath. "Right! Accio Harry's Vault Key," she intoned, holding her hand up and catching the small flash of gold that arced toward her. Presenting the golden key to her ex-Potions Professor, she caught his hand and carefully curled his fingers around the metal. "I'm glad you are taking care of him. Harry really, really needs a family of his own and you do, too, you were made to be together as family."
"Stuff and nonsense, Miss Granger, the bloody nuisance latched onto the nearest person and will not let go, that's all," he snapped uncomfortably, avoiding her eyes as he rose to take his leave.
"Whatever you say, Professor," Hermione agreed knowingly as she handed him the Floo powder. "Take care of each other." She waved as he spun away.
oo0oo
Harry was not a happy cat. He hated it when Severus ignored him and the Potions Master had been ignoring him solidly for two days. Well, perhaps not solidly but the only attention he had received from Severus was a sort of absentminded sop to his need for companionship. This morning, when Harry had woken up, he was alone in the rooms! His breakfast bowls were empty and the water bowl still held the dregs of last evening's pumpkin juice, much to Harry's disgust.
The angry Abyssinian had stormed out of the Potions Master's quarters and up to the Great Hall where Albus obligingly gave him breakfast but as kind as the headmaster was, he didn't fix the kippers just as Severus did and he didn't add egg yolk on the side, like Severus did, and the pieces were cut too big or too small, not perfectly symmetrical the way Severus cut things.
Angrily, Harry Cat had loped down to the potions classroom but, as it was Saturday, the classroom was locked up tight. Yowling angrily, Harry had stormed back to their quarters and slipped in through the magical cat door Hogwarts often supplied for him on demand. The sitting room was still empty, so was the bathroom and bedroom and Harry stalked back into the sitting room and whacked out at his basket. The cane creaked and a bit tore free to skitter across the hearth. Glaring at it, Harry turned to the fire but it was still banked coals, no help here. Turning, Harry leaped up onto the sofa and dug his claws into the leather of the chair back, eight neat holes being punched one after the other, sounding like rifle shots in the ringing silence. Pulling down with all his small weight, Harry yowled in angry satisfaction as eight tears appeared in the leather, jagged and long. Unhooking his claws, Harry whirled on the seat and leaped up onto the mantelpiece, claws scrabbling for a good hold in the wood.
If Harry could smile, the gouges his leaps caused would have made him grin wildly as – whoops - the little cauldron holding the Floo powder overturned on the hearthrug, spilling the powder everywhere. Walking carefully, Harry lashed his tail and knocked over three small glass vials which smashed with a satisfying tinkle on the stone hearth below. The clock in the middle of the mantle nearly went too but then Harry stopped his actions, remembering how Severus always wound it up carefully every Saturday evening and then stroked the case as if comforting it. Leaping over the top, the angry little demon took a slash at a pile of letters watching them float down and spread all over the floor. One page fell into the fire and was burned on one edge before it floated down to mingle with the spilled potion which extinguished the flames quite handily.
"Desert me, like this, will you?" Harry miaowed aloud into the silence of the rooms as he jumped down and landed on a piece of glass which cut his paw and made him snarl in pain.
Yowling and cursing, Harry spun on his toes and whacked out at his Mr Mousie, sending it splatting into the nearest wall. His claws tore open the belly of the mouse and his blood stained the cotton fluff spilling from the torn material.
Harry stared in horror, the gutted toy blending with an all too real memory making him howl in anguish rather than anger. Brown robes torn and destroyed, grey brown hair spilling over burned green grass. Guts boiling from a space too small to hold them, blood splattering everywhere. Even a werewolf's hyperfast metabolism couldn't save him from multiple casts of sectumsempra by vindictive Death Eaters bent on destruction.
"Mousie! My-my Remus!" His cat body could not cry for the dead and Harry had never fully mourned for his lost friends or for his dead.
So many, so many had been killed, Neville and Luna, Fred and Percy. Tonks had died protecting some of the children who had been cornered in the cloisters. Others had been maimed, never to live a normal life again. Dean had lost a leg, Seamus burned almost beyond recognition and yet still he lived and so many others, even people he didn't care a lot for, Malfoy and Parkinson, Brown and the Patil sisters, all gone, all cut short. The vicious snap of the recall ripped the scab off the memories spilling horror and anguish through his mind like newly spilled blood.
Harry curled on the floor, pulling the small toy into his belly protectively before he collapsed, unable to cope with the burdens any further.
oo0oo
Severus was a little worried. He had tried to Floo directly to his quarters but could not get through. Instead he Flooed to the Headmaster's office and hurried down through the castle, ignoring the hoards of children thronging the corridors on this wet Saturday afternoon. He wished he had brought Harry with him now but knew the cat would have been bored dragging around Gringotts and various Apothecary shops and a bored cat was hard thing to cope with!
Still, he had a feeling something was wrong as he hurried down to his quarters, his wand automatically slipping into his hand as he hurried along. Muttering the password, he slid through the barely opened door and gaped in shock. Smashed glass and ripped furniture met his eyes. A sludge of spilled potions and Floo powder slowly bubbled on the hearth stones, eating through the granite. He glanced around wildly and dashed toward the bedroom calling for Harry in an agonised whisper, his wand at the ready. A small, curled body caught his eyes and he skidded to his knees, unmindful of the glass shards as he scooped the bleeding and unconscious cat up. Grabbing the offensively bright blanket from the cat basket, he quickly wrapped the still, cold body and ran, scattering anyone in his path as he bolted for the Hospital wing.
Madam Pomfrey was about to blast the rude intruder into her infirmary when Severus skidded to a halt with a frantic expression, his arms draped in Gryffindor colours. The lolling black head with the long pink tongue hanging out of its mouth was enough to terrify her too. She waved them into a private room and shut the door on the curious Ravenclaw in the last bed.
"What happened?" she demanded as she pulled her wand then paused uncertainly. This was a cat, not a human and even then he wasn't really a cat, either.
"The rooms were wrecked and Harry was bleeding on the floor. I thought he was dead. He's so cold and there's blood…"
Poppy clicked her tongue and Summoned a vial, pressing it into Severus' shaking hand. She was rather surprised when he didn't even question her, just tipped it down his throat without even looking. The calming draught was a very strong one and went to work immediately, the Potions Master blinking as his panic subsided.
"That's better. Now, Severus, let me have a look at him? Oh, nasty cut on his… paw, and just full of debris and glass." Poppy tutted and muttered as she worked to debride the wound and remove the glass shards. "How on earth did he get Floo powder and nutrient potion in the cut, one has to ask."
"Must have come off the mantelshelf; I keep a few potions up there handy for a quick grab when I am needed somewhere, habit really. Should he be so cold?"
"No, he shouldn't but I don't like to try and wake him. I wonder if Willie can help."
The Medi-witch made her way to the Floo and called for someone. There was a quick conference then the stout figure of the Grounds Keeper stepped out of the fire, an arm full of books clutched tightly to her chest. She hurried over and laid two aside, opening the third at the foot of the bed. "Cats are a little different to Kneazles and need similar spells but of a different magnitude. Ah, here we are, Enervate but with only a loop and swirl, no flick in the wand movement. Ready, Severus, he may startle awake," Wilhelmina Grubbly-Plank warned as she pulled out her short, stubby wand and cast the necessary spell with only a small amount of power behind it.
Harry woke groggily; his head feeling like it would explode. He tried to struggle to his feet but he was wrapped up in something which smelled very familiar. Blinking, he glanced around, spotted his own blanket then a very familiar smelling, looking shape next to him. Severus was here. Without consideration for the soreness of his paw, he dived into the dark recesses of his Potions Master's robes miaowing piteously. The adults exchanged puzzled glances until Severus began to smooth his robe and the little body underneath it.
Harry shivered, vague memories of a temper tantrum and the consequences echoing faintly in the back of his head. He remembered the horrific scenes he had witnessed and how so many of the people he knew and loved had died and he really didn't want to alienate the most important person in his life by admitting he had done terrible things to Severus' property. He could… Could he? Would Severus… Harry Potter miaowed again and cuddled up closer to the warm stomach he had landed against. Severus loved him and would not hurt him, but Harry had learned long ago to not trust entirely to love and goodwill, it was not always reliable.
"Harry? Harry, come out now," Severus coaxed gently, easing the long, shaking body out and stroking Harry's quaking fur until the small cat was a little calmer. "Did someone attack you?" he asked gently, still rubbing the large, usually upright ears.
Harry meeped unhappily but did not reply in any other way, burying his face in the Potions Master's sleeve to avoid his worried gaze.
Severus sighed and hugged the little cat close. "Alright, you're safe now. I won't leave you home alone again, I promise."
Guilt coursed through the small cat but not enough to make him confess as Severus hugged him close and rocked him gently as the two women withdrew to give them privacy. Maybe one day he would confess but not now, not yet.
