Moving silently was a hard habit to break. In the bushes too much noise could get you killed. 'It's a trap, they're supposed to see you,' Harry reminded himself, as he purposefully stepped on an inordinately loud twig. "Damn!" Harry cursed. The twig was supposed to catch their attention, not signal that a parade of pygmy hippopotami were taking ballet lessons.

The sun had barely set, and the soft orange glow had given way to an eerie light blue that was rapidly darkening. The piece of human bait was surprised he hadn't heard his canine over-watch rustling about in the nearby bushes. He was situated near to the Shrieking Shack, Harry supposed. Finally, it was time to get down to business. He rummaged around in his knapsack that Sirius had given him and he brought out a whole box of Filibuster Fireworks. Harry grinned as he read the 'Extra Explosive' tag on the side. It had taken an extra Galleon or two, but he'd been able to get a crate of them into Hogwarts. The real trick had been convincing Fred and George to add their own considerable potion talents to the mix.

Harry tapped the end of one with his wand and it flew up into the night sky… 'KA-BOOM!'. The explosion was deafening and flung the boy on the flat of his back. After pausing a second for the ringing in his ears to die down, he grinned and lit another one.

Harry was grinning ear to ear. He felt like the Kneazle who'd just stolen the Knarl's milk. Why hadn't he done something like this before? He almost felt badly for Fred and George, giving up this kind of life, though he understood why.

'Boom!' Another rocket exploded above the Wizarding village, and decorated their night sky with a variety of crude yet inventive words.

"What does 'sod a duck' mean anyway?" Harry murmured to himself.

'I imagine you'll find out when you go to use it.'

Harry's head swivelled so quickly it might have given him whiplash. "Electrolux, I didn't hear you sneak up."

'That's kind of the point of sneaking. Any sign of the rat or his rat-friend?'

Harry shook his head. "No not, GET DOWN!" Harry dropped flat as a suspiciously familiar green jet of light whistled overhead. Harry rolled quickly to his feet and sprinted to the bushy outcropping of flora, adorning the fearsome rock mound. To change or not to change? Harry pondered. That was the question. If he changed now, he could sneak away with little difficulty. However, this was his plan and he was supposed to be bait. "Find the rest and the dog, too. Let them know what's going on. I've a feeling I'll need help before too long. I've only seven lives left, I think."

'Right-o, boss! I'll be back in two shakes of a bicorn's udder.' With that odd pronouncement, Electrolux shot off into the distance to find reinforcements.

Another series of hexes rattled the bushes all around the now-alone boy. "Dammit. They keep moving," Harry muttered. It was true, every time a series of curses would come out of the nearby woods, the caster seemed to change position. The caster was smart, Harry realised, and he wasn't used to dealing with smart.

Thinking rapidly, Harry changed once more into his natural state and slunk out of the bushes, noting with satisfaction that the enemy wizard failed to take stock of his movement. Out thinking the prey, that's what Father would have done, and for all Harry knew, James-dad might have too. Well, if James-dad weren't being prey himself. Perhaps though, his human parents and real parents weren't all that different after all.

Perhaps the prey was not as smart as he had originally thought, Harry mused as he crept through the light underbrush on the edge of the forest. The spells were coming increasingly frequently from one place. What was more troublesome was that Sirius had not arrived yet, but Harry realised that if this plan was to work it needed to happen in the next minute or two, Sirius or no.

Closer and closer Harry crept, until his superb Kneazle senses could make out the distinct form of a man that Harry didn't recognise on sight, but he felt the same as the rat. He was short and fat and he even looked like a rat. Harry's night would be complete once he killed this one. Looking around briefly, he didn't see anyone accomplice. Perhaps the other man got cold feet, or decided that tackling a magically trained Kneazle was too much even for the both of them, either way, Harry was happy he could concentrate on one prey at a time.

Sneaking closer and closer to the rat-man, Harry's predatory instincts were disturbed by a vocal yowling. 'Boss, there's one behind you!' The small form of Electrolux sprinting as fast as his four legs would carry him drew everyone's attention for just a moment and then Harry turned and for the first time noticed a man who he could have sworn wasn't there before. He was a tall, thin, evil looking bloke whose face would be used to terrify kittens into behaving and drinking their milk. Luckily, the little Kneazle's warning saved Harry's life. The split second alert was all he needed to dodge a well cast Killing Curse. Harry hissed angrily. Now they were playing dirty. It was obvious they knew who he was, with or without fur, and a moment later Harry was once again sporting opposable thumbs and wielding his wand with ferocious intent. Unfortunately, Harry was not half the magical duellist that either of his opponents were and very suddenly, he found himself facing two.

"Hehe, baby Potter all grown up and magical now? What do you think we should do with him, Pettigrew?" the tall evil looking bloke asked.

"Lestrange, stop playing with him and kill it."

"Don't want to get your hands dirty?" Lestrange asked, as he cast several more hexes. Harry barely managed to dodge. "Fine, then. Have it your way, coward. The Dark Lord remembers those who do his bidding faithfully, Pettigrew, and he remembers those that ran away and lived in a rat hole," Lestrange sneered. "Avada… YEAHHH!" The curse was interrupted by sharp and pointed claws digging into Lestrange's leg and onwards up towards his unprotected groin. Another larger Kneazle leapt and dug deeply into the man's face. The shock of it caused Pettigrew to pause for a moment, and that was all Harry needed. "Petrificus Totalus" Harry shouted and with a startled squeak, Peter Pettigrew went rigid and planted face down on the ground. Harry spun just in time to witness Lestrange's cruelty. He had shaken both offending Kneazles off his personage and immobilized them on the ground. For the moment, it seemed Harry was forgotten.

"Crucio!" he cried, and Harry stood for a moment in dumb horror as both his adoptive Pridemates writhed in agony, emitting only small mews of protest.

Harry drew his knife without thinking and sprang at the torturous offender, but it was too late. "Avada Kedavra!" the older man cried with vindictive pleasure. Harry's mind was fortunately too far gone to notice the curse strike home.

Lestrange's distraction proved to be his undoing, as the razor sharp blade cut cleanly and seemingly magically through layers of tissue.

"YEAHGH!" Lestrange roared in pain. Harry smirked victoriously. The man's arm was bleeding profusely and it hung limply at an angle. "You bastard, I'll kill you!" he screamed like a wounded animal. The sheer number of hexes that followed seemed to indicate that despite his injuries, Rodolphus Lestrange's wand arm was not the one injured. "Reducto!" he bellowed, as Harry dove out of the way, leaving a clear path between the spell and the unused portion of the box of fireworks still lying on the ground.

The explosion became a legend around Hogsmeade after that night, but if anyone had ever asked Harry about it, he could truthfully say he didn't remember a thing as the darkness claimed him.

oOo

"Uhgggg…" Harry heard and felt himself moan. Every bone in his body felt broken and his chest felt unnaturally restricted. He opened his eyes gradually to reveal, unsurprisingly, the interior of what he guessed was the hospital wing. He took a brief glance at his wrists and discovered that this time, at least, he wasn't chained to the bed.

He sat up slowly and finally noticed the reason his legs seemed so heavy. Ginny had her small, yet dense, form draped over both legs, sound asleep. "Sparkplug, I don't mean to disturb you, but I have to use the loo."

"Unghh…" Ginny mumbled.

"Ginny, wake up!" Harry nearly shouted. Ginny obliged by sitting bolt upright and sliding unceremoniously to the floor.

"Damn it, Paws! What is wrong with you? You know what, don't answer that. I can't even begin to count all the things that have to be wrong with your head. I mean really, blowing up the Shrieking Shack? What in the hell were you thinking? And stop smiling at me!" Ginny fumed.

Harry's smile didn't shrink one bit as he replied, "You called me Paws. You seem to care. I guess you don't hate me quite as much as you thought?"

Ginny huffed. "I'm just… it's not like… bugger off, Paws."

Their impromptu reunion was dispelled by the doors of the Hospital slamming open with impressive force. In strode a very angry looking Professor McGonagall and an equally tired looking Dumbledore.

"Miss Weasley! What in Merlin's name are you doing here?" McGonagall admonished. Ginny's feeble protests were swept aside with a dismissive gesture as the elderly Transfiguration professor continued her angry tirade.

Finally, Harry had heard enough. He knew Ginny was merely worried about him, and to be fair, looking at his condition, she had a right to be. So perhaps due to the pain, or maybe just a lack of sense, Harry interrupted his strict head of house.

"Flatten your fur, McGiggles. It isn't like she stole the treat tin. She was just worried about me."

"Mr. Potter, what did you call me?" McGonagall asked. Even Harry could discern the ice cold killer intent behind her words.

"Erm… McGiggles, you know… because you laugh so much and you're so… light-hearted," Harry finished lamely. His eyes were now firmly fixed to his lap. A moment later, all eyes were fixed on the Transfiguration Professor as she emitted a low throaty growl. Harry found himself, for the first time since arriving, afraid of one of his professors.

"Mr. Potter, I will say this once. If you ever refer to me as 'McGiggles' again, I will eviscerate you with my own claws. Is that understood, cousin?"

"Minerva," Dumbledore cut in. "Childish nicknames are hardly the reason for our visit here. So please, control yourself." Seeming suddenly ashamed at her own lack of self control, she stepped away from the bed and mumbled an unintelligible apology to the Headmaster.

"Firstly, if you would excuse us, Miss Weasley?" Ginny nodded slowly and stalked out of the hospital. Harry knew she hated being left out of things. "Now, Harry," Dumbledore continued in a grave tone. "I have to impress upon you the trouble you are in. You have not only flouted multiple school rules, you destroyed a historic landmark in Hogsmeade."

"You mean the Shrieking Shack? How is that historic? It was just an old house sitting on top of an entrance to Hogwarts."

McGonagall gasped, and Dumbledore became strangely silent.

"Mr. Potter, how did you find that?" McGonagall asked.

"I'm a Kneazle, Professor, we know everything."

"There is something then that I wish to know," Dumbledore interjected. When the injured student in front of him did not offer anything up he continued. "What in Merlin's name do you think you were doing?" Dumbledore's voice was deathly calm. Harry had never heard the normally jovial headmaster use such a tone, but the sudden throbbing in his ribs distracted any further thoughts.

"I was hunting the rat and his friend, Professor. I brought them out of hiding with the fireworks and my friends were supposed to sneak up on them. Then all hell broke loose and we blew up a house. Not like I intended it."

"The rat? What on earth is he talking about, Albus?" McGonagall whispered to her headmaster.

"Harry, I have told you before, Peter Pettigrew is dead."

"Really? Then who was the short smarmy git that cursed Ron? If you're about to say Sirius Black, then I know for certain you aren't thinking of the same Sirius Black that I am."

"And how, Harry, would you know what Sirius looks like?"

"Isis helped me. Do you want me to lie to you, Headmaster, or would you like the truth which you're going to find out eventually anyway."

"I want the truth, Harry."

"You can't handle the truth," Harry shot back. "If you could, then you wouldn't be so insistent on caging Mr. Black.

"Harry," Dumbledore's voice carried a note of warning that no one could miss. Harry relented.

"Fine, he was supposed to be one of the friends who was going to help me kill Pettigrew and Lestrange. When he didn't show up I had to run by the tips of my whiskers. If all went as we planned, I'd be presenting you with two heads instead of a sorry explanation as to why my hunting expedition failed."

"You've been working with Sirius Black?" McGonagall asked, her voice barely above a whisper. Harry merely rolled his eyes.

"Yes, Cousin, and he hasn't once tried to kill me. He even fixed Angelina. He really is a quite helpful and rather devious man when you let him out. At this point, I can't think of a reason not to trust him. It isn't like he hasn't had ample opportunities to kill me, and for the last time Pettigrew is alive! I can describe him if you'd like."

"Mr. Potter-"

"Five foot eight or so, definitely over weight, buck teeth and a receding hair line. Missing his left front fore finger. Do I have to go on?"

The room was dead silent. "He was missing his finger?" Dumbledore repeated.

"Yes! It was hardly something I would miss, as close as I was. Not to be confused with the Lestrange fellow, who might very well be missing his right arm."

The room fell silent for a few moments as both teachers processed what their student had told them. It seemed impossible. There had been dozens of witnesses to the Black killings. If Sirius hadn't killed Peter, why would he have betrayed James and Lily? Unless…

"Minerva, it seems there is much for us to consider. As it stands, I believe Harry's involvement in this can be kept quiet. That is, if Harry agrees to it."

"What would I have to do?"

"Don't tell anyone about what happened tonight. There will be enough people to put two and two together after the explosion and you in here, Mr. Potter," McGonagall lectured.

"How would anyone know about the explosion?" Harry said, perplexed.

"The same way we did. It, along with your spectacular fireworks show was clearly visible from the castle. You will have to congratulate Misters Weasley on their unique product." With that, Dumbledore smiled slowly and stood, leaving Harry slack jawed.

How had he known about the help the twins had given him? It took him long enough to get them to agree. It was only after he promised to use it to 'blast the slimy bugger who hurt ickle-Ronnikins' that they had agreed. "This is the last time, though, Harry. We're through with pranks and jokes. Consider this a debt repaid," they had said.

Harry cheerfully pointed out that while they themselves could of course not be pranksters thanks to their own self imposed code, it shouldn't mean that they would let their fairly brilliant minds be squandered. There was a fine line between a practical joke and helping friends. This had left the two older boys speechless, but their mute nodding told Harry that he'd obviously made an impression. The question still was, how had Albus Kneazle-Molester Dumbledore managed to discover their involvement. He stared dumbly at the closing doors as he vowed to weasel it out of the twins one way or another.

It seemed, however, that surprises weren't quite finished for the evening. Harry gawked as the one scenic view out the window was blocked by Ron and Hermione, riding tandem on what appeared to be a very wobbly broom.

"If we fall, I'm going to bloody kill you, Ron!"

"If you'd stop wiggling your bum so much, we wouldn't be in any danger of falling. Now just lean forward gently… I said gently, woman!" Ron yelled as the hurtled in through the window, obviously much faster than intended. Hermione shrieked as she toppled off sideways, pulling Ron with her.

"Bloody hell, Hermione. I can't believe you did that. We were only going up," Ron huffed.

"I told you I didn't take to brooms well, but you insisted we had to do this!"

"You only told me after we were fifteen feet up in the air. How is that my fault?"

"Why are you here?" Harry finally asked, interrupting the makings of an epic spat.

"To look in on you of course!" Hermione and Ron both exclaimed simultaneously.

"We had to know you were safe, obviously," Hermione chided.

"How did you even know I was involved? Did Ginny tell you?"

"No, mate. We saw the explosion and figured it had to be you. What were you doing out there, anyway?" Ron queried.

"Trying to kill Pettigrew and Lestrange. I almost had the blighters, but they pulled a double cross or something. Killed a couple Kneazles too…" Harry suddenly became quite sombre when he remembered the death of two of his friends. He wasn't sure exactly which ones they were, it was too dark and chaotic for him to be sure, but he was going to find out. "Do you mind if I borrow your broom, for a bit?"

"Harry! You can't just borrow it. We stole that-"

"Liberated," Ron corrected.

"Fine, we liberated that from a school broom shed. If it isn't returned… Not to mention we snuck in here. We aren't supposed to be in here at all. What if Madam Pomfrey returns? We'll be in detention for life. And what are we supposed to do while you're off doing whatever it is you're doing?" Hermione ranted.

"You two could always shag," Harry suggested. "Father told me once it was a good stress reliever and a wonderful way to pass the time. At the very least, Ron might get to be first at something."

"Oi! What's that supposed to mean?"

"Well, you'll be first with a kitten. Stand out a bit, yeah?" With that final pronouncement, Harry snatched up the broom ran to the window and sailed out.

"Well, I suppose it's good he stopped jumping out with no good support, but what are we supposed to do now?" Hermione wondered aloud.

"Harry did have a point, and it would be a shame to let these beds go to waste, Hermione." Ron let his comment sink in for a moment or two before bursting out laughing. "Blimey, that was a good one. Your face, I swear. You should have seen it! I'll have to tell Neville about that one…" Ron choked out through his tears and loud guffaws.

"So you're saying you wouldn't want to?" Hermione asked.

"Well, no. Not unless it was shagging Vanessa Cockatrice."

"Who?" Hermione asked.

"You know, that bird from the Witchy Sisters. She did a couple of songs you might have heard of… Bloody brilliant, she is. I mean she's got huge-"

"Ron, you're a pig. I can't believe… Ohhh… BOYS!" With that final pronouncement, Hermione stormed out of the hospital wing, paying no attention to the obvious trouble she could get in if caught.

"Mental… absolutely mental. It's not like she can blame me. I mean, who wouldn't want to shag Vanessa Cockatrice?" Ron muttered, as he followed quickly after her.

Meanwhile, the intrepid Paws of Hogwarts had finally found the Pride.

"What happened?" he blurted out, when finally face to face with Rex. She was sporting a cut above her eye and nursing a possibly broken paw.

'We were trying to avoid being turned into a fur coat. We had found the tall man earlier that day, and he never paid us much attention. The rat though, was trickier. We couldn't find him until it was too late. That dog of yours came bounding through, sounding like a Banshee mating with a Basilisk. That man has no hope of hunting, none I tell you.'

"Right, but what happened to the rest of you. I'll worry about him, later," Harry huffed.

'Well, as I was saying he came bounding through and suddenly the rat man was right on top of him. Stunned the puppy and then he did some fancy wand waving and quite unexpectedly there were three or four rather large wolves that seemed intent on Kneazle for dinner. We did the best we could with them, but both men got away. It wasn't until little Electrolux came and got help that we even knew you were here.'

"I saw the Lestrange bastard kill two of ours, who were they?"

'Can't be sure, but Father called the roll and Electrolux and Igglebum are missing. If you saw two killed there, then that must be what happened. Everyone else is accounted for.'

"Not again…" Harry whispered. Tears were beginning to form in his eyes. He'd felt rage when the unicorns were killed, terror when Hobart was taken, but this was the first time he'd had cause to feel a deep grief. It wasn't as though they all didn't know that someone could die. They followed him anyway. Perhaps that was what made it so much more painful. He had led them. They had gone willingly, not galvanized by a sense of duty to protect a kitten or avenge a death. They had followed him and he had caused the death of two of his good friends. What kind of a mouser was he after all?

'Harry, darling, these things happen. That's why mum has four or five kittens in a litter. We can't all live forever and maybe the Humans might try, but we Kneazles have to understand the delicate balance of life and death. Just think, if we never died… moles would become a thing of the past, and food would be scarce. Even those delicious treats you've brought from time to time might disappear completely. No, they died to help you. Remember that and honour it by presenting Mum with their carcasses.'

"I suppose so… In honour of the two kittens she lost, I'll kill them both," Harry growled.

'That's the spirit. If you want to talk to the dog, he's recuperating over there… somewhere.' Rex batted her paw somewhat dismissively. Harry nodded and dropped to four paws from two legs, making his trek through the underbrush easier.

'Mr. Black.?' Harry mewed loudly.

'Hello, pup. How you?'

'I'm fine, do you mind telling me what happened out there?'

'Not sure, came out and was quiet. Then hit. Must be magic.'

'Yes, Mr. Black, very good. I'm quite sure it was magic. I'll tell you what happened. You were Stunned and your plan went all to shite. It got two of my adoptive brothers killed. Next time we kill something, we do it my way, big rocks and all. Now, what are your thoughts about the two Kneazle killers?'

'Not sure. May have left. Heard Dumbledore save day. Nice of him. May try again, but no think so. Peter afraid, Rabastian crazy. He trouble, Peter run. Now we know secret he no safe.'

'Mr. Black, I think you are quite wrong. These animals are Kneazle-killers, like a rabid dog. Once they get it in their system, they won't let it go and I doubt Mr. Lestrange is so forgiving as to merely let Peter go if he is as crazy as you say.'

'What you want to do?'

'We wait, patiently and not slobbering all over a bone. Then, when the time is right, we pounce and hit them with a big rock.'

'You joke?'

'Well the rock could be metaphorical, but it doesn't have to be. I'm okay with squishing them, just as long as they're dead. In the meantime, you owe this Pride a debt. You will help by patrolling the edge of their territory to make up for their lost family.'

'How long you want?'

'Until two new toms can be trained. Rex will let you know where to go.'

'I no know Rex.'

'You will, Mr. Black, believe me, you will.'

'Where you go?'

'Back to the castle, Mr. Black. I have a bed waiting for me and likely a molly to reassure. I also have to make sure that orange hornball doesn't leave behind quarter Kneazle kittens. Now if you will excuse me.'

Harry trudged back to the castle, an impressive feat for such a usually graceful Kneazle, and made it quickly back to the common room. He scanned the seemingly deserted space for any sign that his Ginny might be awake still, but alas it seemed he would have to wait to share the idea that had begun formulating in his mind.

It was a simple one, really. She needed protection, and he needed an assistant it seemed more and more frequently. However, she couldn't accompany him because she lacked the proper field craft that all Kneazles learned as kittens. So there was one way to solve this… Harry's train of thought was quickly derailed by movement in his peripheral vision. He spun quickly on his paws, and spotted the cause of it all. Unfortunately the cause had spotted him as well, and four lamp-like eyes peered back at him from the dark depths of the cushions of Ginny's favourite armchair.

'What in the name of Isis do you think you're doing?' Harry yowled as he strode menacingly towards the eyes in question.

'Erm… nothing?' It came out as more of a question.

'Mog, who do you have with you? I don't recognise the… it's a molly. Mog, why do you have a molly in my human's favourite armchair?'

'What's it to you, anyway, interloper? Gorgeous and I were having a perfectly delightful time before you interrupted. Now, why don't you go chase your tail, or do something useful?'

'Shhh… dearest, not now. I don't want to…'

Harry remembered the scent now. It was all over the castle, so perhaps he just hadn't put it all together. 'Norris? Mog, you're mating the ice queen herself?'

'Watch who you're calling an ice queen, pet.' At this verbal volley, Crookshanks made his need for both parties to back down, perfectly clear. Neither were willing.

'Pet? I'm a free spirit, you housebound molly. Mog, please get her out of here.'

'Gorgeous can decide when we want to leave. He doesn't take orders from you.'

'Gorgeous?' Harry choked out. 'Is that your name now, Crookshanks?'

'Harry, come on… please?' Crookshanks nearly whined.

'Oh no, mate. This one is far too good to let go.'

'I was speaking to you!' Norris mewed.

'I was done with you. Now remove your tail from my human's chair or I will hex you.'

'A mere pet, hex me?'

In a flash, Harry was once again on two legs and rapidly brandishing his wand. "Yes, Norris, hex you. Now leave." His voice was deadly calm. With wide eyes both cats stood and walked quickly out the small hole in the wall that the castle provided for those less suited to traipsing through the portrait hole.

"I can't believe it. On her favourite chair!" Harry muttered to himself, as he climbed the staircase to his waiting bed. Tomorrow would be better, he promised himself.

AN: Thanks again to all for the wait. I hope the fight scene was worth it. One thing I am considering and I would like feedback if it matters to you, is disabling anonymous reviews. Not because I dislike what is being said (on the contrary, the vast majority are very positive) but because I would like to be able to respond to any praise or criticism about this story. I hope you all enjoy it and a special thanks to Silverbirch and his story one of nine for some of the crooks/Norris interaction. Hope you all enjoyed it!

–To these things you must return