Disclaimer: JK Rowling owns Harry Potter, and we commend her bravery for allowing her fans to run free with her work.


Chapter 7

Minerva McGonagall located the address Albus had given her. It certainly looked nicer than the boy's previous accommodations. Those had not been in a bad neighbourhood, but the houses here were a little more spaced out, with more trees and green space between them. The house itself looked a little larger, too, but of course, as she knew well, it was the people in the house who mattered. From what Albus had told her, the Grangers sounded like a good family, but she would be sure to investigate them for herself very carefully.

She arrived in the neighbourhood early in the morning, even before breakfast, and immediately took up position next door as a large, grey tabby watching through the windows. She wouldn't exactly be dining in luxury this morning, but she was willing to do a lot for Harry Potter. In an act that she would never have let her students see (or, indeed, many of her colleagues), she quickly caught herself a vole for breakfast. She had got quite good at it in her younger and more adventurous days, but it was hardly a dignified act for a teacher.

Even by cat standards, Minerva could fix quite a stare. She spent most of the morning watching the Granger family atop a chair from which she could see into the kitchen window. Though they knew she was coming later, they gave no indication that they suspected her. She was relieved to find that things looked perfectly normal, at least as far as she could see from there. It was hard to get a clear look at the boy, and he did look small and quiet, but she could make out the mother making breakfast and the two kittens—ah, the two children sitting at the table, talking and laughing. She didn't need Albus's report to know that wasn't something that was likely to have happened at the Dursley residence, nor was it when the father came in and hugged both of them.

The family spent the rest of the morning in ordinary activities: doing a few chores, the children playing and watching the muggle "telly". Nothing seemed to be amiss, and Minerva took comfort in the thought that Albus had finally made the right decision—or perhaps had allowed the right decision to be made.

She waited until after lunch (a fresh mouse for her and a plate of sandwiches for the family) and at the agreed-upon time darted off a couple houses down the street where she could untransform without being seen. She walked back up the street in November chill in her black robes and a hat that she hoped would be inconspicuous enough. Coming up to the house as if it were her first time seeing it, she rang the doorbell (such an odd way to announce oneself, she thought).

A tall, brown-haired man answered the door and looked her up and down, assessing Minerva, she could tell, as the second magical person he had ever met besides the children—goodness, and Albus with his eccentric mode of dress had been the first.

"Good afternoon. Mr. Granger, I presume?" she said.

"Yes. You must be Professor McGonagall," Dan replied warmly, shaking her hand. At this point, he was glad to see that not everyone in the magical world looked as absurd as Albus Dumbledore, although the witch's robes could hardly be called the height of fashion. "Please come in."

He led the way to the living room, where Minerva was introduced to a matching mother and daughter, and the family's newly adopted son. She couldn't help but stare at the boy. Even at his age, he was a spitting image for another boy who had been her best student in many a year not a decade earlier—except for the eyes, of course. When she saw him staring back at her, she blinked slowly at him, and he returned the gesture. She smiled, and the boy nervously smiled back. It was far too rare that she met someone who actually understood how to communicate with a cat. After all, the students' cats mostly stayed in the dorms, and none of Filch's had ever been much for conversation; most of her fellow humans were completely oblivious, though perhaps she could change that here.

"Have a seat," Emma Granger said when they were all acquainted. "Would you like some tea?"

"Yes, please—milk, no sugar," she answered. Back in human form, she felt the need to get the taste of rodent out of her mouth.

Emma brought the tea, and Minerva sipped it thoughtfully and said, "Mr. and Mrs. Granger, before we begin, I must apologise for my role in facilitating the mistreatment that Harry has suffered. I had warned Professor Dumbledore that his relatives were wholly unsuited as guardians, but at the time, I trusted his judgement. I see now that I should have taken a firmer hand, or else followed up afterwards."

The Grangers sat and processed this for a moment. She could tell that they were rightfully unhappy with the news, but Emma told her, "Well, at least you were trying to look out for him. There were clearly a great deal more mistakes made than just your own."

Inwardly, she was relieved, but she nodded and turned her attention to the boy. "Harry," she said with what, to her, was a warm smile, "I understand you recently spent quite some time living as a cat."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Becoming an animagus is normally extremely difficult. I have never known a witch or wizard to complete the transformation with less than a year of intense study. I will understand if you don't wish to dredge up unpleasant memories, but I wonder if might you be able to tell me precisely how you were first able to change into a cat."

Harry looked to his new parents, who nodded to him, and he nervously began to tell her. Minerva fought to control her anger at his description of his relatives and listened in cool assessment. If she had hoped for some new insight into the animagus transformation, she was disappointed. His explanation was textbook accidental magic: intense fear and an overpowering desire to escape. The precise form that the magic took ought to have been impossible…but was it really? There were few real limits to accidental magic. She wouldn't have batted an eye if his escape had taken the form of apparition or disillusionment, both very advanced skills. The boy might have just stumbled upon a rare variation.

No, the real puzzle was how he was able to replicate the feat. "It is very impressive that you could achieve such a feat of magic at your age, Mr. Potter," she said. "Could you then demonstrate this skill to me?"

Harry looked, and Dan nodded to him again. He lowered his eyes and frowned in concentration for a few seconds, and then his form was replaced by a small black kitten.

Minerva was shocked. Albus had told her he had seen him transform, but she had assumed that it would take a few minutes of meditation. The boy was nothing like a novice; he looked well practised, and by the time he came to Hogwarts, he would probably be able to make the change instantly on command.

"Quicker than I expected, Harry," she said. "Pardon me, Mr. and Mrs. Granger, but since the matter is at hand, I think it might be better if Harry and I continue this conversation without the species barrier."

"Do you mean you're going to—?" Dan started.

"Indeed." With that, Minerva changed into a grey tabby cat with prominent black stripes around her eyes. She noted that Harry's form had no marking for his glasses and wondered if it was because he first changed before he got the glasses. Or perhaps it was just that they matched his hair.

She relaxed her usual stiff posture and took a more neutral body position, but Harry started back all the same and lay low, watching her warily with his ears pricked up and his tail lowered. As a kitten wandering alone, she knew he probably hadn't had too many good experiences with other cats. She lowered her own posture a little, and they exchanged blinks again to reassure him that everything was still alright.

Now it was time to really investigate. She had partially used Harry as an excuse to change into cat form, as he was only one of many things she wanted to check out. Using her well-honed feline sixth sense, she regarded the family carefully. She had noticed that the tom and queen—ah, there she went again, so easy to fall into the cat's thought patterns—that Dan and Emma, who only stared when Harry changed, still flinched a little when a grown woman did the same, while Hermione laughed with glee and clapped her hands a couple of times. They were clearly new to magic, but they were doing an admirable job of adjusting to it so quickly, and if Albus was to be believed, they were learning all they could so as not to be caught out behind. Indeed, she had seldom seen any muggle parents take such news so well, let alone anyone who had had to worry about He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.

What Minerva suspected as a human, she could now confirm as a cat. She sensed no duplicity from the Grangers, nothing to trip her feline sense for the untrustworthy. They genuinely cared for Harry, and they already thought of him as their own son. It was plain to see to her in the way they carried themselves: though barely visible to humans, cats could pick up a fantastic amount of information from body language. And from smell. The Granger house smelled…like family. Looking past the smells of food and some sterile smells that might have been associated with teeth healing, joy, comfort, and love permeated the air. There was plenty of anxiety, too, but no dislike, no serious division.

The other part was to check over Harry himself. Verbal communication was quite rudimentary for cats, but it was usable. Minerva meowed something that roughly translated to, Boy-Kitten, follow, please, before she climbed down off the chair.

Harry took his defencive position again in surprise for a moment upon hearing her "speak". Apparently, the other cats he had met had not been much for conversation, either. But he followed her off the sofa.

Only a few steps away, just far enough to have room, the two cats circled around each other. Minerva radiated an air of friendliness through her body language, which Harry was surprised he could pick up on. He let her in close enough that she could smell him clearly. He was a very anxious boy, from the smell, which was only to be expected, but he also smelled genuinely happy, curious, and comfortable in his new home.

Harry also got a clear smell from Minerva, but he stepped back as he tried to process it. He gave a meow that translated to, I don't understand smells.

Smells are hard, she meowed back. You will learn with practice. How did you live outside? It was as good a time as any to get his side of the story unfiltered. After all it was hard to lie as a cat and even harder to lie to a cat.

Ate mice and food humans didn't want. Slept anywhere it was warm. Tried to find a human-servant, but found a family instead.

Minerva smiled, as much as a cat could, at the kitten's natural use of the feline word for "owner". She had forgotten how easy it was talking to a fellow animagus. His simple explanation conveyed much more about his feelings for life on the road, and even a few of the details, than the words alone. Be careful outside, she warned him. Loud-rolling-things are the worst predators.

Harry nodded his head at that, causing Hermione and even their parents a little bit to giggle at what looked like a perfectly normal conservation carried out entirely in meows.

What is your new family like? she continued.

Harry perked up, and his tail bent into a downward-facing arc with excitement. Sire and Dam are very nice. Don't hiss and scratch like old parents' bad litter-mates. Help groom and feed me and new Girl-Litter-Mate. Girl-Litter-Mate is smart. She is shy and likes human word-papers, but we make friends together. She likes cats, too.

Any human could have seen that last bit. As for Minerva, she could smell the joy coming off the kitten. The boy did like it here, and he loved his new family. It was a sense as clear as she could have got from talking to him in human form all afternoon. She twitched her tail with relief that the problem of his disastrous upbringing was being resolved so well. Now for the other issue. Is Old Wizard nice to you? she asked.

Old Wizard hides a lot. Thinks about many other things. But sorry he messed up and protects us from Bad Wizard. Gives look-memories of old parents.

Minerva nodded. She wondered if Albus had any idea how much the boy had picked up from him. I will visit sometimes. You tell me if Old Wizard causes trouble. Harry hesitated, but nodded back. She changed back to human form and turned to the others. "Well," she said, "I am very glad to see that Mr. Potter has found a loving and welcoming family."

Even though they had seen the conversation for themselves, Dan and Emma were surprised that it contained that much substance. Hermione was clearly brimming with questions. They looked to Harry, but the kitten was still there and had started licking his paws. Minerva made a note to give them some tips on preventing hairballs.

"Harry," Emma called. The kitten changed back to human form. "He's been doing that a lot," she said. "He doesn't change back until we call him."

"He's been waking up as a cat every other day, too," Dan added.

"Hmm, that is a little unusual," Minerva said. "Harry, could you show me where you have been sleeping?"

"Yes ma'am." He led her to the guest bedroom that was slowly being converted to a little boy's room. It didn't look quite lived-in, yet, but it didn't look out of the ordinary.

Minerva had a suspicion that it wasn't the room. "Can you show me how you sleep?" she asked as the Grangers fell in behind her in the hall.

"Mm-hmm." The boy flopped down onto the bed, adjusted his limbs a little, then lay still on his stomach.

"Ah, that's simple, then," she said. "You're still sleeping like a cat." He pushed himself part-way back up and looked back at her. "Harry, I know it will be more uncomfortable for you, but you should try to sleep on your back. It will help you get used to being human again."

Harry rolled over and tried lying on his back for a few moments, but he quickly sat up.

"That's alright, Harry, it will take some time to adjust." She turned to Dan and Emma when they returned to the living room: "I'm not surprised to see cat-like behaviour after spending so long in that form. Some animal traits always persist, but you may wish to help Harry suppress the more obvious ones." And she explained the basics of how cats interact with those around them: the association of prolonged eye contact with aggression, a slow blink or other ways of showing vulnerability as a sign of trust, huddling in a small space to withdraw, and, of course, rubbing and stroking as a sign of affection. There was a lot more, but there would be a lot fewer headaches and less emotional distress if they understood those first few things, and she was pleased to see that the family was absorbing them well.

The Grangers responded with a few of Harry's idiosyncrasies that they had observed: sunning himself in the window, occasionally stalking around the house on all fours, licking his hands when he was bored or distracted. They were all perfectly normal for a cat, but they looked more than a little odd for a human. They had noticed his propensity to sleep a lot, too, but it was hard to tell if that was his feline side or if Harry just wasn't a morning person. Minerva agreed that the more obvious behaviour might need some active correction, and they should focus on that, while the minor things could safely slide. Of course, they should watch carefully how Harry was around other people, since there was a fine line between eccentric and just plain crazy.

Once they had got the matters of cat-animagus care settled, Hermione finally got a chance to ask her question: "Professor, can you teach me how to turn into a cat?"

Minerva was caught off guard for a moment, and it took a couple more moments to register why. No child, even at Hermione's age, would think to ask such a question in the wizarding world, but it was a perfectly logical question for a muggle-born who had never been taught otherwise. "I'm afraid not, Hermione," she said. "For one thing, your animagus form is determined by your personality and animal nature, if you even have the innate skill to do it. Yours would most likely not be a cat. But more importantly, learning the skill the normal way is very difficult and can be dangerous…I might be willing to consider it if you had a very good reason." After all, James and Sirius hadn't exactly been discreet about their questions. "But certainly not before you began attending at Hogwarts."

"Oh…" Hermione said in disappointment.

"Transforming is a very rare skill," Minerva explained. "Very few witches and wizards go to the trouble of learning it. I only did myself as part of my studies on transfiguration. You'll have a great deal of more useful magic to learn when you come to school."

Hermione looked partially appeased by that, and Minerva turned back to her parents. "Now, Professor Dumbledore tells me Harry is doing well in school?" she said. "Catching up with the other children and making friends?"

"Surprisingly well, considering he missed two months," Emma said. "He's still adjusting, of course, but Hermione's been helping him learn to read, so he has that going for him, and as far as we can tell, he's been enjoying himself."

"That's good to hear, Mrs. Granger. Have you had any other problems with him so far?"

"Well…it's not a problem so much as it's unusual," Dan said. "Harry is probably the only little boy we know who doesn't have a sweet tooth. We don't eat all that much sugar in this house, Professor, but Harry claims that a lot of what we do eat tastes sweet to him. Now, I don't if that's because he didn't get that from his relatives, or…"

Minerva was caught between a smile and a frown. "Given what I've heard, that is certainly possible," she said, "but I think there is a simpler explanation."

"What's that?"

"Cats cannot taste sugar."

"Really? I did not know that."

"Indeed, Mr. Granger, and an animagus's tastes often carry over into their human form. I usually find typical dinner fare sweet enough for my tastes, rather than desert. At Harry's age, it will be different, but even so, am I right in thinking that Harry has also shown a preference for meat?"

"Definitely," Emma confirmed. "Red meat especially."

"I thought so. Cats are almost entirely carnivorous, even more so than dogs. You may have some…unique challenges in teaching him to eat a balanced diet."

Because having a son who can turn into a cat isn't unique enough, they thought. "Thank you for warning us," Emma said. "Is there any way we can contact you if we have more questions?"

"A letter addressed to me at Hogwarts and sent through the muggle post system will be delivered, although it is not as fast as an owl. Please feel free to contact me anytime. I will be happy to help Harry with any troubles he may be having, especially feline-related."

"Thank you, Professor," Dan repeated.

"Now, there is one other thing." She paused to make sure all four of them were listening. "It is very important that no one finds out that Harry is an animagus, even in the magical world. All animagi are required by law to register with the Ministry of Magic, but Professor Dumbledore and I agree that with the unique risks to him, he would be safer if it is not known. He must also be careful in using it so as not to cause trouble. The penalty for failure to register by itself is only a fine, but the Ministry deals harshly with any other crimes committed by an animagus, registered or not. We will support him if such a matter ever comes up, but that will only go so far."

Dan and Emma paled a little at being advised to actively defy the law, by a respected teacher, no less, even if they could see the wisdom of it. They wanted to instill their children with a healthy respect for authority, but then again, from what they had heard about wizarding politics, maybe a healthy scepticism would be better. They stepped back and whispered to each other for a minute. It was hard to hear, but Minerva could tell they were uncomfortable with it, and not without reason. She picked up something about having five years to think about it.

"Professor, we don't anticipate any problems with that if that's how things are set up," Dan said carefully when they concluded. "And we'll certainly teach Harry to be discreet about using his ability."

"Very good, Mr. Granger. Harry, I like your new family very much. I know they will be very good for you. I hope to hear good things about you in the coming years." Harry smiled at her. "And Hermione?"

"Yes, ma'am?"

"You're Harry's older sister, now, and as such, I expect you to keep him out of trouble."

"Yes, ma'am," the girl said with a grin.

"Well, I must be returning to school," Minerva said, shaking the Grangers' hands on the way out. "Good afternoon."

"Good afternoon," Harry called after her and waved, to the surprise of his family. Meeting another cat seemed to have done wonders for his shyness.

Minerva left the meeting with a rare, if subtle, smile on her face. It had been a hard year, between losing her husband last spring to Venomous Tentacula and then Albus managing to misplace Harry Potter in more ways than one, but at least the boy was as well off now as she ever could have hoped. She was humming to herself all the way back to the castle.