Disclaimer: Neither the world nor the characters belong to me. They are the property of J K Rowling, to whom I owe thanks for letting us use her creation to tell these alternate stories. The challenge belongs to whitetigerwolf, to whom I owe thanks for the idea that kick-started this story. I'll happily claim credit for the story itself, though.

Chapter 4: Everybody Wants To Be a Cat

Harry and Hermione moved through the corridors quickly, racing each other from class to class. They had a hard time resisting the urge to leap from one staircase to the next, but managed it, if only barely. They had one class left that day, and their first mentoring session with McGonagall and Snape that evening. In their DADA lesson that day, they found that neither of them could stomach Lockhart's 'cologne', gagging on the horribly artificial scent. Hermione's crush on the git died then and there, as he insisted on seeing what was wrong personally.

As he'd moved closer, Harry had spoken quietly, mostly to avoid inhaling.

"Professor, do you know what a dentist is?" There was no way the smarmy ponce didn't, not with that smile. "Hermione's dad is one, and I don't think it's a good idea to upset someone whose father pulls out teeth for a living." Lockhart had backed off at that. In herbology, they'd found out that Seamus Finnigan was allergic to cats, including themselves, and he'd spent the lesson wondering why he kept sneezing near them. Eventually, he wrote it off as one of the Weasly twins' pranks.

Arriving at their Charms classroom, they were met by Professor Flitwick. His lesson that day was focused on the basic charms for that year, mostly wand movements. At the end of the lesson, he introduced what he called the Schroedinger Charm: Vacuos, which was supposed to permit the caster to walk through solid objects. The wand motion was complex and quick, and by the end of the lesson only Harry and Hermione had mastered it, each earning ten points for Gryffindor. Ron somehow turned his wand insubstantial, and had to have the diminutive teacher reverse it.

"I think I need a new one," he muttered. "But Mum hasn't forgotten the car incident yet."

"That's alright, mate," Harry replied from the floor of the common room. "You're still ahead of Malfoy." The Slytherin had failed to cast the spell, and also failed to realise it, so he confidently swaggered forward and broke his own nose against the wall. Only the three friends and Professor Flitwick knew that the cat-children's feline reflexes were what let them pick up on the motions so quickly.

"It's time, Harry," called Hermione from across the room. The two friends had decided to keep a certain amount of physical distance between them in front of others. If they didn't, they had a tendency to stroke at each other's hair and fur, just to hear them purr. That could be embarassing.

As they left the common room, they were accosted by a Prefect. Of course, with Harry's luck it was Percy.

"Where do you two think you're going?" he asked.

"It's alright, Percy," Ron called out. "They've got detentions with Snape and McGonagall for the upset which had them in the hospital wing over Christmas." He winked at his best friends. They weren't slow to get the hint, and as Percy stood aside, clambered through the portrait hole and scarpered.


The first thing they learned in their lesson was an exercise to enhance their mental control. "You should focus on something," Snape lectured, "something small but significant, and pour your mind into it. Once you have achieved this, we can move on." Try as they might, however, Harry and Hermione couldn't sit still. It didn't help that their teacher made them as nervous as a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs.

Professor McGonagall was in her animagus form. It was somewhat strenuous for a witch of her age to constantly switch back and forth so she could explain about cats, and then demonstrate. It was while she was a cat that they made an incredible discovery.

I wish you could understand me as a cat, she muttered, then I wouldn't have to keep changing back and forth.

OK, Professor, Hermione replied absently, If that's how you want to do it.

Harry, it was quickly discovered, could also understand the lingua felinarum, and that portion of the lesson passed much more swiftly.


Over the next few days, Harry, Hermione and Ron also made a few discoveries. First, although well-crafted, the glamours on the collars became uncomfortable with prolonged use, and so the cat-children kept them off when they were free of observation. This also had the effect of letting them become accustomed to their feline selves. Despite the changes from the transformation, anything major about themselves remained. There was, of course, Harry's famous scar, which now manifested in a lightning bolt of white fur on his brow. Their hair was, perhaps unfairly, unchanged, unmanageable and now almost constantly wild from their physical exertions.

It was during a meditation session for Occlumency that Harry made a breakthrough. While he was trying to pour himself into a stone, he recalled a vivid memory as Professor Snape pushed into his mind. The memory of the day Hermione's parents came to see her, and the first time he heard her purr. Desperate to hide this potentially embarassing revelation from the greasy-haired potions master, Harry poured his whole mind into the first thing he thought of- the sound of his friend's contentment, her purr.

The constant rumble in Harry's mind was a distraction to Snape, who steadfastly pushed it aside, and started searching.

Harry hissed and yowled in lingua felinarum, telling Hermione what he'd done. By the time Snape abandoned Harry's mind and entered hers, she had managed the same thing.

More of that cursed rumbling, thought the potions teacher. I'm going to need headache relief potions after this. Pushing aside the horrible noise, he tried to search this mind.

Professor McGonagall watched as Severus became more and more agitated. Finally he threw up his hands in pain. "Potter! Granger! What is that infernal thundering in your heads?"

The feline friends looked up at him with wide-eyed innocence (or some reasonable facsimile thereof). "I'm sorry, Professor," Harry said, "but I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Nor do I, sir," Hermione chipped in. "Are you feeling alright? Maybe Madam Pomfrey should take a look at you, Professor. You could be catching something."


That night, as they were returning to the Gryffindor dormitories, they heard the slap of bare feet on stone, and the splashing of water on tiles. They were near Moaning Myrtle's bathroom.

Let's split up,Hermione whispered, I'll check the bathroom, you see who that was.

On the surface, Harry could find no flaws in her plan, and moved quickly in pursuit of the mysterious stranger. Hermione braced herself and pushed open the bathroom door.

Myrtle's crying echoed out of her toilet, which was starting to overflow. Something was blocking up the pipe.

"Excuse me," Hermione asked, "but what's wrong?"

The ghost popped up from the loo, obviously distraught, and angry. Upon seeing Hermione, who had her glamour up, she seemed a little calmer. "I don't know. I was minding my own business, sitting in the U-bend, when someone goes and flushes a book through my head."

Hermione sympathised. "The nerve of some people. Thinking just because you're not solid that you don't have feelings. If you didn't, you'd have never become a ghost in the first place."

Myrtle turned to the disguised feline. "No-one's ever understood that," she said. "Do you think you can get it out?"

"I'll try, then I have to get back to our dormitories," Hermione said, with an 'I'm sorry' smile, "and if you can get Mr Filch's attention before the mess gets too bad, he'll probably thank you for saving him work."

As Myrtle disappeared through the wall. The cat-girl braced herself for the unpleasantness of what she was about to do. Her nose told her the water was clean, but... it was wet, and her fur would feel strange until it dried. Yes, she had drying charms, and she used them after each shower, too, but still... wet.

Taking a deep breath, she plunged her arm into the loo.


Harry had almost caught up to whoever it was he was... hunting. He'd paused a moment, to throw on his invisibility cloak and remove his shoes and socks. Barefoot, he was much quieter, and could even sneak up on the new Hermione a lot of the time. It looked like the mystery person was heading up to the Gryffindor tower. Unless he wanted to be noticed, he'd have to cut short the chase. But he could try to catch their scent.

Inhaling, he smelled the stranger. It was a girl, that was plain, and she smelled of ginger and strawberries, an odd combination, that. She smelled familiar, but unless he wanted to start a riot by sniffing every girl in the dorms, He'd have to write this hunt off as a failure.

Turning around, he swiftly and softly raced back to his friend.

Hermione was not a happy kitty. Her arm was soaked to the shoulder, the front of her robes was drenched, and all for a diary no-one had written in. She'd begun to catch up to Harry when he suddenly appeared, as he threw his cloak across her shoulders. After she also removed her own footwear, dangling her shoes around her neck as Harry did, the two of them flicked their bells. The two cat-children began to head back to the Gryffindor dormitories, discussing the night's events as they did.


Ron was sitting in the common room, as were a few other students, including Percy. As his two best friends stepped through the portrait hole, luckily with their glamours active, he was playing a game of Wizard's Chess against his brother. He was also, "to make it more challenging" trying to finish potions homework. Even with the handicap of multitasking, he was winning.

"Hey, guys," he called to his friends, "how was detention?"

"Don't ask," Harry replied. "At least we're done for now."

Percy stood up after laying down his king. "If that's it, I'm off to bed." As he brushed past Harry, the cat-boy caught a whiff of ginger and wand-polish.

In whispers Hermione told Ron what had happened. He found it particularly funny that Snape, in trying to search their memories, kept pushing aside the very things he sought. The diary, however, had him paying attention.

"Hermione, you should show that to Professor Dumbledore," the redhead said. "I mean some books can be really dangerous. There's one that sends you mad if you read so much as a single page, and I heard from Bill about some books that had the power over life and death. He's a curse-breaker for Gringott's in Egypt, so he'd know."

Harry's news had him interested, too. "So it's a girl from our dorms, huh?" he thought aloud. "Let's see, there were three girls who came in before the end of Percy's prefect patrol. Parvati, Katie Bell, but she was with Wood, and before them Ginny. You don't think it could have been her, do you?"

"I don't know, Ron," Harry said. "Well, in the morning, we take the book to the headmaster." As Hermione looked up at him, he reassured her. "He's right, Hermione. With all the danger we've already run into at Hogwarts, the way my luck runs then Voldemort's smuggled himself in disguised as a teenaged girl's diary."