Anubis was a little ball of fluff happily sleeping on Harry's feet, and Harry was jealous. Of the Grim and of his friends, who he could hear laughing and playing outside the window. Where he was stuck inside, taking his N.E.W.T.S. despite the fact that he hadn't even attended his seventh year yet.

Professor Dumbledore had convinced the Ministry that Harry was more than qualified to graduate. Now all he had to do was prove it. Of course, this was the last of the written tests. Now all he had left was the practicals for Charms, Transfigurations and Defense, all of which requiring some form of communication.

He sighed, stopping himself from staring longingly out the window. He wasn't sure he could do this. Oh sure, he knew the stuff, had more experience then most wizards twice his age. And watching Hermione freak out when she learned he was taking the tests had been absolutely hilarious.

But what was he supposed to do after he had graduated?

Sighing again, Harry set his quill down and glanced at the clock. He still had an hour before Madam Marchbanks would come back with two other men for the practical testing. And he had finished the written exam ten minutes ago.

He contemplated bashing his head against the desk but then thought better of it. That would hurt.

Instead, he reached down and picked up the sleepy Grim-puppy and sat him on the table. Amethyst eyes blinked open and Harry gave him a look that said something along the lines of 'I'm bored. Entertain me.'

Anubis yawned, curled up, and went back to sleep. A clear statement of, 'I'm sleepy. Entertain yourself.'

So, disgruntled, Harry grabbed his quill, flipped over the test, and began to draw the Grim. He paid close attention to every bit of detail and before he knew it, the hour was up and Marchbanks had returned with two men that Harry vaguely recognized from his O.W.L.S. "Still working on that test, Mr. Potter?" Marchbanks asked.

Harry shook his head, finished the final patch of fur on Anubis's ear and then handed the test to the grader. She glanced over his answers and then flipped it over to study the drawing. Raising an eyebrow, she gave him an approving look. "You're quite the artist, Mr. Potter."

Harry grinned sheepishly, and then waved a hand. The two men seemed to be in too much shock at being in the presence of The-Boy-Who-Has-Lived-Through-Far-Too-Many-Attempts-On-His-Life to be able to say much of anything. Marchbanks chuckled. "I understand that you are currently incapable of speaking, so we're pretty much going to play this by ear. Okay?"

The testing for Charms wasn't complicated at all, and required very little effort. Transfiguration was a little harder; Harry had always struggled with that particular subject. But he successfully turned his orange into a teacup and a table into a horse. Although he had to wonder why such skills were useful.

He had noticed Logan, Remus and Scott enter the room a while back, but he had ignored them. But at Marchbanks's next question, he suddenly realized why they were there. "Mr. Potter, we've heard you are an accomplished animagus. If you would, we would like to see your form?"

Harry froze, remembering the last time he had changed. Taking a deep breath, he allowed his emerald eyes to fall shut, and then he shrugged. In the blink of an eye, he had shifted to a decidedly feline form.

The cat, if it could be called such, was about the size of a Siberian Tiger. However, it was a deep blue, with overly large incisors, big ears and a thin, whip-like, spade-tipped tail. And the emerald eyes were far more serpentine than they were feline as well. Everyone, aside from Remus, gasped.

"Oh my," Marchbanks murmured, watching as Anubis got up, sniffing at the creature with puppy-curiosity. "A Hellcat." She shook her head. "Those have been extinct for centuries."

"Would you expect any less from Harry?" Remus asked with a grin. "After all, his father's form is that of a Thestral-Stag, his godfather a Grim, and myself a werewolf. I'd say it runs in our rather odd family."

Harry yawned, proudly displaying his nine-inch fangs, and wishing he could just curl up in that patch of sunlight over there and fall asleep. Or, just sleep in general. "Well, Mr. Potter," Marchbanks said, jotting down some notes. "I believe you've gotten rather exceptional scores on this exam. If you would just change back, we can go about testing you in Defense."

Of course, as things were wont to do around Harry, things didn't quite turn out as planned. The alarms sounded and screams could be heard from outside. "Death Eaters," Remus breathed, catching a glimpse of black cloak outside the window as he pulled out his wand.

"I'm getting rather tired of these Zombie Munchers," Logan growled right before jumping through the glass window. Harry was the next out, back as a human and firing spells from his hands before he even hit the ground. As soon as he had exited the building the Death Eaters had focused on him, allowing the younger mutant children to get to safety. However, the Death Eaters were not expecting to be met with red optic blasts, adamantium claws and werewolf strength. Not to mention Harry's own impressive magic.

He used spells that no one had heard or seen in decades, centuries even, and used them easily. If there hadn't been so many opponents, and if Harry had been aiming to kill, the fight probably would have been over before it had even really started.

As it was, though, Harry wasn't aiming to kill, and neither were most of those fighting alongside him. The Death Eaters, however, had no such inclinations.

Scott dropped under the Crutatius, his back arching as he screamed in pain. He writhed in agony for almost three minutes before the laughing Death Eater's head was separated from his body courtesy of a furious Wolverine.

Logan knelt, gathering a gasping Scott into his arms, trying to soothe the trembling. "Come on, Cyke," he growled, keeping an eye on the fighting. "Breathe." But still the mutant struggled.

Distracted by his cousin's screams, Harry hadn't fully dodged a cutting curse, and paused to wipe the blood from where it poured from his cheek. Eyes narrowing angrily at seeing Scott's state, and Logan's worried, protective stance, Harry snarled and gave up on spells.

Devilpaw slammed into the throng of Death Eaters, fangs and claws slashing, obviously no longer caring about the death toll. The other mutants were somewhat surprised when a leopard, tiger, lion and wolf all joined in one what could accurately be called a 'hunt'.

Lucias Malfoy, however, was getting annoyed. This fight wasn't going as planned. Granted, they hadn't expected the muggles to fight back. Or be so powerful. Grimacing at the thought of his Master's imminent displeasure, he turned, aiming his wand at the Hellcat and yelled, "Avada Kadavra!"

And the green light, the exact color of Harry's eyes, rushed out and slammed into the feline into the ground.

"Harry!" Logan yelled in the ensuing silence, as everyone, friend and foe, turned to where The-Boy-Who-Lived lay still and silent.

(I was so going to leave it here, but decided I rather liked living…)

And then he moved, his paws slowly taking his weight until he was crouched, growling and snarling. Lucias raised his wand again, in both anger and surprise, but was shocked to find he had no control over his magic. Spade-tipped tail snapping angrily, Devilpaw gave an ear-splitting yowl and lunged, fangs sinking into the aristocrat's neck as the other Death Eaters fell to the ground, strangled by their own magic.

Harry quickly shifted back to human, wiping the blood from his eyes and cursing that blasted scar for choosing now to start bleeding so heavily. Dropping to his knees beside his last living family, Harry focused on Scott, whose trembling by this point had morphed into full-out shaking. Jean was crying, standing behind Logan with her fist firmly planted against her mouth. Even Logan seemed to have given up hope of Scott fighting off the curse.

But Harry could see that Scott was still fighting, however much in vain in seemed to be. He could see the sludge of the curse working its way through the mutant's body with very little resistance. Muggles, after all, had no magic to help counteract the curse, mutant or not. So Harry, reluctant to lose another family member, reached out with his magic and grabbed hold of the sludge, forcing it from Scott's body. He was gentle, not wanting to cause any more damage, but insistent, and finally the invading curse gave way, dissipating into the ground.

Harry sighed and urged Scott into a deep, healing sleep, smiling as the mutant relaxed, his trembling nearly nonexistent. "Don't worry," he said softly. "He'll be fine."

"Harry!" Jean yelped. "You're talking!"

Harry stood, shrugging. "I'm guessing it has something to do with surviving the killing curse."He frowned. "Again. Probably killed the link instead of me." Turning, he found his friends being watched by the other mutants warily. "Silverclaw! Razorfoot! Fangtooth! Mooney!" he called, getting their attention, as well as that of everyone else. "Thanks!" The animals all nodded, shifting back to human, the leopard being Hermione, the lion Ron, the tiger Ginny and the wolf most obviously Remus.

There was a great big, terrifying dog walking through the battlefield that was the front lawn of the mansion, though. Harry at first had to do a double-take, thinking it was Padfoot before his brain caught up with him. The dog stopped at every dead body, all of which being Death Eaters, and then turned, amethyst eyes gazing intently in Harry's direction.

"Go ahead Anubis," Harry smiled. "I know you have a job to do. Deliver their souls and then come home."

Anubis, so much more frightening not then he was as a puppy, barked a low, rumbling bark, and collapsed into shadow.

"Well," Madam Marchmbanks said from where she stood pale and shocked near the broken window. "I can quite confidently say that you've passed Defense."

And Harry couldn't help but laugh.