Disclaimer: I still don't own warriors or Harry Potter.
...
Dustpelt was dreading the Gathering. Contrary to the beliefs of the rest of his clan, he was not the kind of cat who rejoiced at the prospect of standing in front of all four clans and explaining confidently how both the clan leader and clan deputy had gone missing.
But his personal preferences were knocked aside, and here he was, standing with Leopardstar, Onestar and Blackstar in that very position.
He was so nervous that he forgot to listen to Onestar's unremarkable report on his clan's new warrior.
"Dustpelt, perhaps you would like to go next," Onestar prompted, stepping back and flicking his tail.
Dustpelt took a deep breath, refusing to let his reluctance show.
"As you may have noticed," he began, "Firestar is not present today, and neither is our new deputy, Brambleclaw."
Judging by the attentive silence, his audience had noticed.
"They were on a patrol to explore the furthest parts of our territory with several of our warriors, and find out what was beyond. They have not returned."
Worried muttering broke out. Dustpelt wondered how many of them were theorising on what might have happened, and how many were discussing how easily Thunderclan could now be invaded, since all their figures of authority were missing. Not to mention the absence of several warriors. Dustpelt swallowed nervously. Had it been wise of him to purposely mention the patrol, rather than just say Firestar and Brambleclaw had disappeared?
Nonetheless, he waited calmly for silence before trying to fix his mistake, "however, many of our warriors remain, and I have assumed temporary authority. Thunderclan is not weakened in any way."
Nervous as he was, Dustpelt caught the sceptical expressions on most of the audience's faces.
They hadn't bought it.
…
Looking back, Brambleclaw realised how lucky he and Squirrelflight had been to have been taken by twolegs who were friends with each other. Any cat who had any brains would calculate that the odds of that were very low.
But in the moment, all he could think about was that she was right there, unhurt and unharmed. His earlier worries were discounted, and he was left with only relief.
Before anyone could stop him, he had bounded over to her and touched noses with her in greeting. She returned the gesture before he was suddenly grabbed from behind by Neville.
"I'm sorry," the twoleg was saying, and Brambleclaw realised that the twoleg had tripped over someone in his haste to chase his cat, "I wasn't expecting him to cause trouble!"
Brambleclaw yowled in anger. Cause trouble? He hadn't been causing trouble. What did this twoleg think he was, completely mad?
But Neville paid no mind to his struggling. He was concentration on scrambling off Harry's legs with his arms occupied with restraining Brambleclaw.
"What's happening?" Neville squeaked to his fellow twolegs, bringing Brambleclaw back to the other pressing matter at hand.
"Do you think we've broken down?" the ginger-haired twoleg worried.
"Dunno," Harry responded nervously.
Brambleclaw didn't realise how anxious he was until the squeaking sound from the ginger twoleg's hand wiping the moisture from the window almost made him jump out of his skin.
"There's something moving out there…" the ginger twoleg whimpered, staring out into the darkness.
Brambleclaw saw Squirrelflight's hackles raise, and the cat who was with her let out a long hiss.
Ren, who had been standing outside the compartment for most of the time, took this opportunity to take a seat next to the bushy-haired twoleg, who acknowledged her with a brisk, "hi, Ren!" to which she gave a nod. Brambleclaw realised that Ren must be in a different clan to this twoleg, if he was any kind of judge.
He had a second huge shock when a yowl announced that his genius twoleg owner had attempted to plonk his big bottom on Squirrelflight's friend, who, having none of it, had scratched viciously at him.
When Neville was settled, the twolegs in the room turned their attention back to the mystery of why the train had stopped.
"I'm going to ask the driver what's going on," the bushy-haired twoleg said matter-of-factly.
She stood, and almost made it out the door when, having the poor night-vision of twolegs, she collided with a ginger-haired she-twoleg coming in. They both yowled.
"Who's that?"
"Who's that?"
"Ginny?"
"Hermione?"
Now that they had both identified each other, he saw them relax a bit.
"What are you doing?" Hermione asked.
"Looking for Ron," Ginny told her.
"Come and sit down."
Once again, the poor vision of twolegs was proved when Ginny almost sat on Harry.
"Not here, I'm here," the black-haired twoleg told her frantically.
This time she did manage to sit down, but Neville still found himself with a squashed foot, "ouch."
"Quiet!" This voice was new, and commanded a calm authority akin to a clan leader. Brambleclaw twisted, still restrained by Neville, to see that a twoleg adult, who he had hardly noticed sleeping in the corner, was staring around at the young twolegs.
Whoever he was, the twoleg kits seemed to respect him, because they didn't speak again.
A moment later Brambleclaw had to look away as a bright, flickering orange light filled the space around them.
The adult twoleg was holding a handful of fire.
He resisted the urge to hiss and spit when the other cats calmly stood their ground. Brambleclaw couldn't tell if it was because they were all frightened of the recent events or if they were all waiting for a signal from the others that it was a moment to be aggressive.
Besides, there were far more things to think about than whether or not these twolegs were normal.
A cold, empty sensation had crept up on Brambleclaw, like he had been slowly drenched in a pool of ice-cold water. It made his hackles raise and drew a long, sharp hiss from his mouth. Judging by their sudden discomfort, the others felt it too.
The twoleg with the fire found his attempt to reach the door foiled when it opened.
The thing that came through the opening was like no twoleg Brambleclaw had ever seen. It towered over the twoleg adult, and was covered from head to toe in long, black fur which drifted, as if in an invisible wind. The only flesh Brambleclaw could see on it were it's long, skeletal fingers poking from the concealed arms.
And the sensation it brought was not normal. The chilling feeling grew until Brambleclaw no longer felt engulfed by water, but ice. It was an invisible coating of misery that surrounded this creature. In it's presence, Brambleclaw felt like he could never be happy again.
A sudden gasp drew his attention. Harry was staring at the creature, wide-eyed. Then, with not a sound, his eyes rolled back into his head, and he collapsed to the floor.
The creature drew in one last rattling breath, giving Brambleclaw the ominous feeling that it was scenting the air, looking for something, then drifted out of the door.
Harry did not get up again.
…
It was the black-haired twoleg which had remained neutral in the ginger haired twoleg and the bushy-haired twolegs arguments that went down first.
As if that was it's only mission, the stranged cloaked twoleg backed out of the compartment door and disappeared. So did the icy-cold feeling, to Squirrelflights relief. It was still there, in the background as the creature continued it's search, but for now it had been reduced to an almost bearable level.
While the cats remained frozen in confusion and shock, the bushy-haired twoleg had moved to crouch beside her friend.
She made a sound which seemed to be his name several times. But it was not until the monster was moving and the lights were back on that he finally stirred.
"What's wrong with him?" Crookshanks asked her nervously as the twoleg was helped up. He remained unsteady.
The twoleg adult remained calm compared to the other twolegs in the room. As Squirrelflight watched, he appeared to explain something to them, before offering around some of the solid brown stuff she had seen the twolegs eat earlier. Then, apparently finishing his explanation, he disappeared out the door.
The twoleg kits remained in shocked silence for a moment before continuing the conversation. The black-haired twoleg kit was inquiring about something, but without an understanding of the twoleg's language, Squirrelflight could only guess what was bothering him.
Brambleclaw and Firestar had taken advantage in their twoleg's lapse of concentration to make their way over to her.
"Oh, thank Starclan," Brambleclaw said, rushing over to press his muzzle to hers in their second greeting of the day, "I thought I'd never find you."
Squirrelflight squeaked with mock indignation, "of course you would. Did you think I couldn't take care of myself?"
"No, no, of course not," Brambleclaw said hurriedly, before noticing the amused glint in her eyes and relaxing.
He then backed away to allow her father to greet her.
She allowed herself to be washed away in relief for a brief moment before inquiring, "Do you know what happened to the others?"
Brambleclaw looked slightly guilty, "no, they were taken before us."
Her stomach clenched with worry for the missing warriors, especially her mother, Sandstorm.
"Are these your clanmates?" came Crookshanks' voice behind her.
"Some of them," she agreed, "this is my father, Firestar, and my- my mate, Brambleclaw."
Crookshanks nodded politely to them.
She turned to her clanmates, "this is Crookshanks," she gestured in his direction, "he's been a huge help in understanding the world of twolegs. If it hadn't been for him, I might've run away from those twolegs before I could find you."
Firestar dipped his head to the other cat, "thank you, Crookshanks."
Looking rather taken aback at the formality, Crookshanks scuffed his paws, "it was nothing," he said at length.
"We need to find the others," Squirrelflight said, "do you remember if the twolegs who took them were kits?"
"I think Sandstorm was taken by a twoleg adult," Firestar said, his fur fluffed up with panic.
"Oh no," Squirrelflight whimpered.
"It's not just twoleg kits who go here," Brambleclaw said in an attempt to calm her down, "there was an adult in the carriage with us."
Squirrelflight nodded, clinging on to that hope with all she had.
…
The twolegs were silent for the remaining journey to their destination. Brambleclaw didn't know whether it was because they were in shock or because there was a mix of clans in the compartment. He didn't really care, as it gave him and his clanmates a chance to talk.
Brambleclaw and Firestar quickly explained to Squirrelflight and Crookshanks how the twolegs had somehow made them understand their language.
"What!" Squirrelflight yelped "that's impossible."
"We were amazed, too," Brambleclaw said, "But it's true."
"You're mad," Crookshanks said dismissively, "Squirrelflight, you didn't tell us your clanmates were mad."
"They're not," Squirrelflight bristled, "And they wouldn't lie."
Crookshanks muttered something under his breath, clearly not convinced.
"Crookshanks, we've seen some crazy things since we were taken by that twoleg, haven't we?" Squirrelflight pleaded, "what about that solid wall we went through on the way to this monster? And that creature with the aura of unhappiness? And that twoleg with the handful of flames?"
"All crazy things, yes," Crookshanks retorted, "but an entire language, not to mention a twoleg language, just learned in an instant? You can't ask me to believe that."
Squirrelflight hissed crossly, lashing her tail. Brambleclaw could almost feel her frustration like he could feel the black-cloaked creature's sadness. She had grown close to this cat in the last few days and now Crookshanks wouldn't listen to her or her clanmates.
Finally she said, "alright, then, don't believe them. I, however, am going to."
There was a flash of anger in Crookshanks' eyes, and Brambleclaw could see that he had thought better of her. He turned around and stalked over to the bushy-haired twoleg.
There was sadness in Squirrelflight's eyes, "he really is a good cat," she told her clanmates, "he can just be a bit petty."
If Crookshanks had heard her, he gave no sign of it.
…
When the train began to slow down again 10 minutes later, the twolegs were not at all panicked. In fact, some of them seemed relieved.
Brambleclaw decided to take this as a sign that there wasn't any threat, and that they had reached their destination.
The cats were herded back into the small cages, and Brambleclaw lost sight of Squirrelflight and Crookshanks in the confusion of twolegs trying to leave. Panic gripped him once more, but he remembered that she would be close. All the twoleg kits were heading in the same direction.
It was not a monster, exactly, that took them to the huge grey structure. It was similar, but did not rumble with the power that the other monsters did. It was small, and rounded, with huge wheels.
And it was not powered by and engine, but by huge, skeletal creatures akin to the horses Brambleclaw had seen on his journey and in the new territories, only they had wings.
But the twolegs paid them no mind when they were climbing into the 'carriages' as Brambleclaw heard them called.
It was almost as if the winged horses were invisible.
The huge building towered above them, and as they grew nearer Brambleclaw began to realise just how huge it was.
There were several towers which jutted out of the main bulk of the building. They were spiked at the top, like teeth. Brambleclaw instantly wished he hadn't made that connection.
The main building at first appeared to consist of just one cube of rock, but on a second glance Brambleclaw realised that it was, in fact, a ring. He couldn't see what it was encircling, but it was probably a defence system for the twoleg territories.
"That's Hogwarts," Neville whispered to his two cats, obviously remembering that they could understand them, "I'll be staying there for a few months."
Months, Brambleclaw realised, must be the twoleg word for moons.
He turned curious eyes up at the twoleg and tilted his head, trying to display his question with his body language.
Understanding, Neville continued, "Hogwarts is a school. I'm going there to learn how to be a wizard."
Maybe that's their word for warrior, Brambleclaw guessed.
"Neville, are you talking to your cat?" the amused voice of Ren stopped him.
"You said yourself that pets understand every word we say," Neville protested, looking embarrassed.
"It looks a bit weird, is all I'm saying."
"Actually, the shopkeeper put a spell on him. They should understand me now," Neville said.
"Is that legal?"
"Probably not. That's why I'm reluctant to tell anyone so that he doesn't get in trouble."
"That's so cool, though," Ren said, "do they actually understand everything we say?"
"I think so," Neville said.
You know so, Brambleclaw thought, remembering how he and Firestar had nodded in response to Nevilles question.
Ren looked at the cats sceptically, "alright then. Blink twice if you understand me."
Brambleclaw looked at Firestar for permission before doing as she said.
Ren seemed even more enthusiastic that Neville had been.
"That's so cool!" Ren exclaimed.
"Yeah. I'm lucky. If he hadn't done it they might run away. They were wild-caught," Neville told her.
"Don't stress so much about losing things."
"But I lose everything!" Neville said hopelessly, "I don't want to lose these cats."
"You won't," Ren assured him.
Guilt flooded through Brambleclaw. He could clearly see that the twoleg was already under stress because he had lost his previous pet, Trevor, in whatever way, and here Brambleclaw was, planning on escaping him at the first chance he got.
Oh, stop that, he told himself, if you carry on like this, you'll start feeling sorry for prey.
…
Somehow, Ren persuaded the nervous Neville to take one of his cats in with him to the 'sorting ceremony', as it was called.
It was like nothing Brambleclaw had ever seen. Hundreds, possibly thousands, of black-furred twolegs swarmed around four long tables. Some had already sat down, while others milled around, as if waiting for others to find them.
"Bye, then," Ren said, and wandered off, away from Neville.
Brambleclaw was confused for a moment before he remembered that Neville and Ren had implied earlier that they were in different clans.
Ren had gone to one of the long tables, while Neville went to another.
Four tables. One for each clan, Brambleclaw realised, they have four clans, just like us!
He was walking close beside Neville, quietly observing all that was going on around him. When Neville had sat down, he huddled by the twoleg's legs.
Not all of the residents in the room could be defined as twolegs. Some of them were floating creatures. Brambleclaw didn't know how to describe them, except that they were not of this world. They glided and swooped around near the ceiling, occasionally coming down to speak to the normal twolegs below them.
It's like they're… dead.
These twolegs were lucky, if their warrior ancestors could share tongues with them so freely.
Before he could make any more observations, the doors on the other end of the room flew open.
Led by an older adult twoleg were row after row of young twoleg kits. They were younger than Neville or Ren. They shivered, whether from cold or nerves Brambleclaw did not know.
The lively conversations going on in the room died down almost instantly.
The older adult twoleg placed a small, three-legged seat out in front of the twoleg audience and put on it a ragged-looking hat.
Brambleclaw stared at it. He had picked up the word hat from a twoleg as he was listening to random conversations and he had defined it as a pointed shape that fitted onto a twolegs' head, for whatever reason. Plenty of the twolegs coming in had worn hats. Those had been sleek, black and well-cared for. This one was brown, with creased edges and the top, which was, like the others, tapered into a point, drooped. It looked spent, as if it's time was long gone and it had given up.
Then it moved.
As if the hat had come alive, the creases, which looked suspiciously like a human face, were suddenly animated and a large crease moved as if it were a mouth.
From it, in a creaky, age-old voice, came a song.
Brambleclaw had realised several hours ago that the 'spell' that allowed him to understand the twoleg language had limits in terms of distance, and even if he had been a metre away, the lyrics were moving at a pace too fast for the translation to understand.
But he could still hear the tune. It was a joyful, boisterous piece of music that boasted hopeful melodies without the help of words.
Although the voice of the hat was creaky and unused, the beat was steady, and despite the translation errors, Brambleclaw found himself enjoying it, and was almost disappointed when it came to an abrupt end.
The twoleg kits, and the adults, who were seated at a long table at the head of the room, burst into applause. At least, Brambleclaw thought it was applause. Twolegs seemed to show their appreciation of a performance by clapping their hands together fast and occasionally yowling their approval.
The old twoleg who had led the younger kits out now unrolled a long piece of the material twolegs used to record things on. Brambleclaw remembered seeing Ren note down some thoughts in an untidy scrawl. For all his disapproval of twolegs in general, Brambleclaw had to admit that choosing a symbol for each word and using them to record information was a pretty genius idea.
When the witch spoke, Brambleclaw had to instantly dismiss his theory that distance affected the spell, as her voice rang out loud and clear, so that even he could hear it, "When I call out your name," she told the littler twoleg kits, "you will put on the hat and sit on the stool. When the hat announces your house, you will go to sit at the appropriate table."
Without pause, she began, "Abanto, Derion."
A nervous-looking twoleg stepped out from the small huddle and moved, shaking, to sit on the stool. There he sat. The hall was silent. Brambleclaw tipped his head to the side curiously. Was this some kind of trial? Were they judging how loyal he was to his clan?
Ten seconds past. Then, "RAVENCLAW!" cried the hat. The table to the far right erupted into cheers.
Ravenclaw? I think Ren mentioned she was in a clan called Ravenclaw. But why did the hat need so much time to judge that?
Three more twoleg kits had tried on the mysterious talking hat before Brambleclaw got the gist of what was happening, and why Ren had referred to this as 'the sorting ceremony'. Twolegs must not be born into their clans, or houses, as they called them. They were placed into them by this hat. Maybe it was so that specific personality traits had the chance to emerge and twolegs could judge which clan they wanted to join.
And maybe this hat had certain powers that allowed it to do this with complete accuracy.
Magic hat or not, Brambleclaw had just discovered an element of the twoleg world that would be crucial in his escape.
...
Hi.
There are two accountless (I don't think that's what they're called)! reviews on the story. I can't reply with PM, but I just wanted to say thank you, and it means alot to me that you're enjoying my story!
