Title: Full Moon Rising

Author: daemonwolf

Rating: PG-13

Notes: Alright, boys and girls. I've decided to dispense with the replies for now. It's been three, almost four months since my last update, and for that I am sorry. However, that little tickling thing in the back of my head whispered life and so I left to deal with it. No, I'm not dead, not yet anyway, and I don't plan on leaving this beast hanging where it is now. However, as I said at the beginning, I am not a regular updater. When push comes to shove for me, plays second banana to whatever real-life shit I'm taking care of. Lots of things have been happening over the time period from December to now, some good, some bad, and some just fuckin' ugly. I'll write when I can, but I highly suggest putting my name on your Author Alerts list if you still enjoy reading this story so you won't miss out on any updates. So, with that in mind, I'll leave you. My thanks to those who reviewed the last chapter, responses to a few can from now on be found at the end of each chapter.

Special Disclaimer: I have no knowledge of actual arcane rituals and ceremonies. As such, the ceremony described in this chapter is the product of my own over-active imagination, and I claim no responsible for the damage any demonic or benign being summoned by persons performing the ritual described herein may cause to said person or the surrounding countryside. (that dry and lawyer-ish enough for y'all?)

Full Moon Rising

Chapter Nine: At the Leaky Cauldron

An hour later, after the Harry had gotten his first taste of dinner at a Wizarding establishment, Hagrid kept true to his word and contacted Dumbledore via the floo network. Harry looked at the large man a little oddly as he knelt down in front of the fireplace and tossed a handful of powder into the flames. Harry was even more surprised when the flames turned a bright emerald green and Hagrid stuck his head into the fire, shouting "Dumbledore's office!" as he poked his head in. From Harry's position next to the fireplace, he could only make out the rumblings of Hagrid's voice as he replied and something that might've been a birdsong in the background. A little while later Hagrid retracted his head from the fire and shook it about, sending ashes and soot flying everywhere.

"Good news," Hagrid told Harry after he'd gotten as much of the ash out of his beard as he was able. "Dumbledore said yeh can stay, though yer not teh leave the alley. An' don' be sneakin' inter Knockturn Alley neither! Yeh c'n also keep the raven and the cat—Dumbledore said 'e'd write a special note for yeh. Now, lemmie go make 'rrangements wit' Tom an' get yeh a room." The giant of a man ruffled Harry's hair fondly before walking over to where Tom, the barkeep was polishing a glass. Harry ignored their quiet conversation; too excited was he that he wouldn't have to spend the rest of the holidays with the Dursleys. And he had two new pets, to boot! Just the thought of his new cat and raven made Harry want to get the ordeal of ordering a room over with quickly so he could go play with them. He smiled happily; of course, now that he had pets he couldn't let them go without names! So while Hagrid and Tom were talking, Harry pulled his cat from what was quickly becoming her customary perch on his shoulders and sat down on the floor with her in his lap. Absentmindedly he stroked the beast while looking into those eyes that so resembled his own. As green as a fresh-pickled toad came to mind for some reason, but he shook the thought away and returned to the task of naming the cat.

As for the feline in his lap, she was just as content as one in her position could be. Contrary to appearances, this was no ordinary cat, prone to racing about the cage at odd moments, convinced that a ghost was on her tail. No, she was most definitely above all that. She was not old, but she did have some decorum to stick to, lest she wind up a common house pet. She had immediately felt the tug of the wizard boy who now held her, first when he had passed the shop on his way to the Wizarding bank, and second when he had returned. But that second time, she knew what had to be done. She had reached out with her claws—figuratively of course—and made this unusual human boy sense her and respond. However… as the cat thought she came to realize that this boy was indeed special—but not because he was her rightful master. As she breathed, the feline took in the scents of the humans in the bar and compared them to the scent of her master—and discovered something. He was not human at all, but a wolf quite literally cloaked in sheep's clothing. He did not yet smell of dead things, but as a predator, the cat knew that this smell would come in time, for it came to every animal that killed and ate meat. The cat also found she quite liked the scent of her master. Although it did not include the dead things, it was rife with hereditary memories of the forest and something that the cat had only before connected with nighttime during a full moon. She smirked to herself as she analyzed her master's scent and let out a contented purr as he rubbed the special spot directly beneath her chin. She may have been no ordinary cat, but that did not mean she did not have ordinary cat-needs!

Harry smiled once more at his new pet as she let out a rumbling purr. For the life of him, he could not figure out a name that suited her. He tried out different names in his head, but every one of them sounded forced to his inner mind. Emerald? No, too obvious. Rosette, no, rose? No, she's black not red, idiot. Night? Feh. Now you're grasping. Wait… what about… Harry looked into his pet's eyes beseeching the animal to tell him her name and make it easy on him. But those eyes, those emerald eyes that were so like his own when he was happy would give nothing up. Her eyes promised mischief, but they also held a deep affection, which surprised Harry, seeing as the two of them had only met half an hour ago. So jewel-like and… that's it! Harry smiled at his young charge, and whispered his decision in her ear. The cat gave him an uncannily intelligent appraisal and began purring in earnest. Harry took the purr as acceptance and sat back against the wall, murmuring her new name to himself as he stroked her fur.

"Onyx..."

As Harry was finishing his little impromptu naming ceremony, Hagrid approached with Tom in tow. "Alrigh' Harry?" At Harry's nod, Hagrid smiled and motioned to the shorter barkeep. "Tom said 'e'd put yeh up fer the rest o' yer stay. 'E'll show yeh to yer room."

Tom nodded in agreement with the half-giant and produced a large key from behind the bar. "If you'll follow me, Mister Potter?"

Harry gently shifted Onyx off his lap and stood, wincing as the blood rushed back into his legs. Onyx, unhappy about being displaced from her warm spot, meowed up at her human and rubbed her black-furred head against his leg. Harry grinned at his pet and picked her up before following the barkeep up the stairs to his new room.

Two hours later Harry found himself settled in; his belongings either packed in his trunk or spread out amidst the bedclothes for further deliberation. His raven fluttered freely about the room, while Onyx stared lazily at the bird with bright green eyes. Before the cat could act on any of her ingrained hunting impulses, Harry called the bird to him and stretched out his arm for the raven to perch on. "You still need a name, don't you?" He asked the bird. The raven cawed in agreement. Harry sighed. "Hmm.." He sat back against the side of the bed to contemplate, but no matter how hard he thought, he couldn't think of a name that would do the bird justice. "Suppose I'll just have to call you 'Raven' for now… until I can think of a better name, that is." He grimaced as the raven voiced it's displeasure with a particularly loud squawk right next to his ear. "Hey! It's not like you have any other ideas, do you?" The raven just shook its feathers and grumbled to itself.

"That's what I thought. Now Raven, let's get something to eat, huh?" He smiled as the bird perked up instantly and moved to sit on his shoulder. Onyx padded over to rub her cheek on Harry's leg, as if to say, you're not leaving me here, are you? Harry only grinned and held the door open for the feline before following her out.

Downstairs, Tom stood behind the bar, cleaning yet another glass with a rag. It was a slow day for the Leaky Cauldron which was for the barkeep both a blessing and a curse. As much as he loved to stand on the other side of the bar and listen to the woes of all his customers, there was only so much one barkeep could take before laughing out loud and saying "you think that's bad? You should've heard what that guy went through!" Although, it did amuse him to no end to compare stories at the end of the day, in fact, he'd made a hobby of it many years ago and still stuck to his routine. However, that was all irrelevant when taken into consideration the fact that he was the only man downstairs at the moment, not including the obligatory drunkard in the corner. But he didn't really count, now did he? Tom sighed to himself and set down the glass which sparkled brilliantly as the sun hit it. The barkeep chuckled. There was something to be said for the innate magic that helped him do his job.

A noise from the upstairs brought Tom out of his thoughts and he turned just in time to see a black blur dash down the stairs followed quickly by an angry ball of feathers. A boy's voice rang out from the top of the stairs: "On-nyx I thought I told you! No eating Raven!" Tom let out a small chuckle as the Boy-Who-Lived himself rushed down the stairs to gather up and chastise his pets. The child leapt down the last few stairs with an uncanny grace before running over to the hearth, where Onyx was defending herself from the feathery onslaught that was Raven. "And Raven, she didn't mean to eat you, it's her nature!" As quick as Tom had ever seen, the boy reached out a hand and snatched the bird out of midair, completely ignoring its squawk of indignation. "Jeeze, you two. I said 'go on downstairs' not 'try and kill each other.'" The boy let out a long-suffering sigh as he knelt to scratch the cat behind her ears. He smiled as she started to purr and rub her head against his hand for more attention.

Harry sighed again. "What am I going to do with the two of you?" Cat and bird stared at him with identical innocent looks. A low chuckle from behind him took Harry's attention off of his pets.

"Misbehaving, are they?" Harry turned to regard the owner of the voice, the barkeep of the Leaky Cauldron.

"Only as much as I'd expect," the boy replied with a small smile. "But then again, I really don't know what I'm doing. I've never had pets before," he added quietly as a blush stained his cheeks.

"Well then, you've come to the right place, my boy," the barkeep said, wiping his hands off on the rag. He leaned across the bar and turned warm brown eyes on the small boy in front of the hearth. "I happen to know a lady who's got a way with the critters. She'll straighten those two right up."

Harry's eyes widened. Not even half a day with his two, and already he knew something of the hell he'd be putting himself through if he did little to train them. "When can I meet her?"

Tom smiled, holding his hands up to calm the eager child. "Half a moment, there, young Potter. First I have to ask if she'll have you. Now don't worry," he added as Harry's face fell. "I'm sure she'll be delighted to have you. But let's not jump to conclusions, shall we?"

Harry thought about that for a moment, then nodded his head. "You'll let me know what she says?" he asked.

"Of course. Now, run along and see what you can do about those animals yourself. Wouldn't do for them to listen only to Mistress Morgan, now would it?" The barkeep's words set off a flurry of activity as Harry plucked Raven once more off his shoulder and shooed Onyx upstairs for some "alone time." Tom chuckled to himself and looked around the tavern. Quiet as a tomb, it was, but ten times as inviting. Now was as good a time as ever to visit his cousin—they had had to discontinue their ritual visits because of some family problems. However, Tom knew those particular problems had been dealt with ages ago. He didn't know what was keeping his cousin from visiting this time, but figured it was safe enough to check up on her.

Only a few things to take care of first, he thought as he tucked the rag into his ever-present belt pouch and pulled a small crock out from underneath the counter. In it, he kept an emergency stash of floo powder for special occasions. Taking a handful, the barkeep walked over to the hearth and tossed a bit in before shouting "Donne residence!" and sticking his head in.

Ten minutes later the barkeep's head retreated from the fire just as a short, balding man stepped through. Tom smiled at the man and spoke a few words before tossing a second handful of powder into the fire and shouting "Castle of the Fey" as he stepped fully into the fire.

After zooming past countless grates, Tom found himself in the entrance chamber of a large castle. Behind him, if he had cared to look, was an elaborate fireplace depicting the history of the Tuatha de Dannan carved entirely from stone. The hall was similarly decorated, with stone gargoyles in the shapes of faeries every ten paces up the hall. Flags and tapestries in the family colors hung from both sides, illuminated by the magical candelabras beneath them. Tom, however, was completely unfazed by the décor, and strode up the hall as if he owned the place. Which was partially true. His aunt, the esteemed Mogheid Fey (no relation to the Le Feys, thank you very much!), had left the castle and all its trappings to both him and her daughter Morgan, as they were the only progeny of the entire family. Tom had forsaken his part of the castle to be able to keep running the inn he had inherited from his master, but still visited his cousin as often as he was able.

Tom made his way up the length of the hallway to a pair of large wooden doors set into the stone walls, which he threw open to reveal an even longer hallway with a grand staircase set about halfway down its length. The graying barkeep of the Leaky Cauldron followed the staircase up to the second level of the castle, where he was greeted by Marcus, the elderly caretaker of the castle. "Marcus!" he called joyfully.

Marcus smiled slightly, a mere twitch of the lips to those looking for it. "A pleasure as always to see you, Sir."

Tom chuckled. "You haven't changed a bit. Say, would you happen to know where my wayward cousin is," he added.

Marcus nodded and gestured in the direction of the upstairs. "I believe she is still sitting with her paints in the north tower. At least, that's where she was when I called her to dinner two hours ago." Again, Marcus' mouth twitched, this time forming a frown.

Tom thanked the caretaker and began the long trek up to his cousin's studio.

Twenty minutes later found Tom standing outside the door to Morgan's studio, slightly out of breath. He leaned against the heavy oaken door for a moment to recover his breath then rapped lightly on the door. After a moment the door opened, revealing the figure of his cousin.

In age, she was as old as he, but time had treated his cousin differently. She had few wrinkles and no gray hairs marred her flame-red hair. However, she did have the deep circles that signified lack of sleep. All in all, though, Tom privately thought she looked much better than he.

"Cousin," Morgan's greeting brought him out of his thoughts. "Whatever are you doing here? I thought our visits were too 'dangerous' to continue."

Tom winced. It had been his idea that they discontinue their visits, but he still stuck to his beliefs. If they had ignored the warnings, either one or both of them would be dead by now. They both knew their family was much too volatile for something of that nature not to occur. Without meaning to, he sniped back: "It may have been my idea, Morgana Llyweyan Fey, but that was ages ago! Where have you been?"

Morgan looked fit to burst. Tom winced again, this time inwardly. He'd forgotten, heavens help him he'd forgotten how much Morgan hated the sound of her full name. Trying to diffuse the situation before his cousin's infamous temper was roused even further he hurried on. "Look, Morgan, I didn't come here to snipe with you about old events. A young friend of mine has need of your particular expertise and I was wondering if you'd help the lad."

For a moment, Morgan looked rebellious, but her Ravenclaw roots showed themselves as curiosity won over blind juvenile fury. "What is it?"

Thank the gods. "The boy recently acquired two new pets—a large black cat by the name of Onyx and a raven, who, for the moment, goes by Raven. With your particular affinity for the beasties, I was wondering if you would help the boy train them, or at least teach them to behave. It's a kind thing Professor Dumbledore's doing, letting him have two pets—and one not even on the acceptable list of animals! I like the lad; I'd not want to see him get into any more trouble than he can avoid."

Morgan looked pensive for a moment, twirling a paintbrush absently between two fingers. "We'll see. Who is this boy?"

"Harry Potter."

Back in the Leaky Cauldron, Harry was trying to figure something out. Although he was completely ignorant of the magical world in most ways, he knew being able to change one's eye color and grow fur of all things was definitely not on the normal-to-wizards-but-strange-to-Muggles-list. So he sat on the rug next to his bed, absently stroking Onyx (who was asleep in the boy's lap for the moment and thankfully not trying to eat Raven). He thought briefly about Tom's offer to have his cousin train the creatures and for a moment entertained the thought that she might be able to figure out what he was, as well, but quickly dismissed it. He was human after all… At least, he thought he was. Still, Harry thought about it for a moment. He had to know. Worst case she said he was human and that was that.

With the comforting thought that finally he might just be able to figure out what the hell was wrong with him, Harry leaned back so his head rested against the side of the bed, and allowed the rumbling purrs of Onyx to send him to sleep.

The next morning, Harry woke up with a crick in his neck, which was hardly surprising considering the position he'd spent most of the night in. Onyx had long ago left the warmth of the boy's lap, in favor of the more comfortable (and more stable) perch at the end of the bed. "Nice of you to wake me up," Harry grumbled, rubbing his sore neck. Onyx only yawned and snuggled deeper into the bedclothes, her tail draped over her nose. Harry likewise yawned and stretched then rummaged around the room for some clean clothes so he could change and go downstairs for breakfast.

Twenty minutes later, Harry dashed down the stairs, eager to hear whatever news Tom had for him from his cousin. He skidded to a halt as he saw Tom talking to a woman seated at the bar, not wanting to interrupt. Tom, however, noticed Harry and beckoned him over to the bar. "Harry, glad you could join us. This is my cousin, Morgan. She's agreed to train your pets for you."

The woman turned to regard the Boy-Who-Lived with cool gray eyes. "Good day, Mister Potter. I've heard you wanted some assistance with your animals?" Harry nodded. "Very well. Bring them to me after you've eaten and I'll see what I can do."

Harry grinned gratefully and took his seat at the bar, shoveling eggs and bacon into his mouth as quickly as he was able. Morgan looked on, leveling an intense stare at the boy. To any outsider it would seem as if she was glaring at his back. In reality, Morgan was deep in thought, and no longer aware of her surroundings. Unbeknownst to the majority of the world (with the exception of her cousin, who shared her mother's family's blood and a few other select folk), Morgan was an aura-reader, as well as an Animagus in the most basic sense of the term.

Long before wizard folk populated the lands of Europe, magical creatures ran rampant. Unicorns and Darcorns, Dragons, Bugaboos, Gryphons, Sprites, the amount of different species was innumerable. Alongside the more well-known magical beasts were the faeries—the creatures humans magical and non-magical alike would come to call the fey.

The faeries of northern Europe had always been a reclusive lot, choosing to separate their affairs completely from those of humans. They were blessed with several different abilities, among those the ability to read auras other than their own, the ability to shape-shift, and the ability to communicate with plants and animals. Those who could speak with the flora and fauna had special titles, for theirs was one of the rarest of all gifts among faerie-kind. Respectively, they were Dendramagi, meaning plant-mage and Animagi, meaning animal-mage.

Long after the fey had either interbreeded with humans, becoming indistinguishable from them or simply faded from human knowledge except in story and song, the title of Animagi and position of Animagus cropped up when one particularly motivated wizard was searching for a way to transform himself into a fly. He'd reason to believe his wife was being unfaithful, and while searching through old records of shape-shifting and transmogrification, he stumbled upon an old parchment with little legible on it but a single word: Animagi. The wizard took a liking to the term immediately, and once he had completed his transformation, he called the new form his "animagus form" (even though to his chagrin, he had become not a fly, but a frog, and had to spend the rest of his days explaining to his wife the reason why he "croaked" every other word). And so, as the wizard went on to publish his works (croaks excluded, of course), the title of Animagus gained a new meaning—those who possessed the ability to shape-shift into an animal.

Morgan's family, on her mother's side, still retained traces of faerie blood. Thus, the children of the Fey family (and it was no coincidence that the family still retained the name Fey) had the potential to possess faerie abilities, though few ever did. Morgan had been lucky; she possessed the faerie lifespan, as well as two of the traditional abilities. She had learned to use them well, and was about to put the knowledge she had to the test.

Focusing on the area of Harry's head and upper body once more, she quickly scanned his aura. To her eyes, the different colors swirling tightly about his body signified any of a number of different things. Silver signified an enchantment, blood red, a curse, while pale blue and green were normal, human colors. Magical animals had their own aura colors, as well. What she saw surrounding Harry surprised her. Not only was his aura devoid of the pale blues and greens she had come to expect when dealing with humans, but it contained a color type she had seen only twice before: the gem-color emerald. The jewel colors were particularly rare in auras. Their presence meant a series of events had occurred which resulted in the aura-bearer not being of the same species as its parent. Emerald signified a magical creature—what she didn't know, as the color was not species-specific. Ruby was the color of possession—demonic or otherwise. The only other gem color she had seen was the lapis lazuli, a color signifying the presence of a mundane creature, such as a cat or rabbit, within the belly of the host mother.

She shook herself from her musings as Harry finished the last bit of his eggs. "Well, now, young man. Run along and fetch your animals. I'll wait here."

"Thank you, Mistress," Harry replied respectfully, and ran up the stairs to find Onyx and Raven.

Five minutes later the boy was back downstairs, cat and raven in tow. Morgan's eyes widened as she caught a glimpse of the feline. One glance at the cat's aura and she knew this was no ordinary animal. A quick question posed to the beast confirmed what her eyes had told her. Harry was no more carrying around a common housecat than she was a completely mundane human being. She smiled slightly. If Harry could make a friend of a feline as fierce and untamed as Onyx, then he'd do fine. Politely, she asked Harry the names of his creatures. With relish, the boy replied that they were Onyx and Raven, although he did falter over the name of his bird, as if he did not wish it so.

When asked about it, the boy mumbled "I couldn't think of anything else," an embarrassed blush staining his cheeks. Morgan only smiled.

"Would you like me to help you think of a better name?" she asked the intrepid eleven-year-old.

"Yes'm," he replied, green eyes wide and hopeful.

Morgan thought for a moment. The boy was special; his animals reflected that. Although out of the three of them the raven was the most mundane, the bird's eye sparkled with an uncanny intelligence, which Morgan affirmed with a short mental conversation. She finally grinned at the boy and his pets; she had the answer. "How about Munin?" she asked, companionably.

"Munin?" Harry repeated, trying the name out.

"Yes, after the Norse god Odin's own raven advisor. The name means Wisdom in the Norse tongue."

"Munin," Harry repeated, looking directly at his raven. The raven gave a squawk of acknowledgement. Harry grinned toothily, eyes flashing. "He likes it."

Morgan smiled. "Good. I'm glad. Now, tell me something, boy. What do you know about that cat of yours?"

"Onyx?" Harry asked. At Morgan's nod, he glanced down at the cat, who had decided his lap was the most comfortable place in the world, and was lost in dreamland, her tail tucked over her nose. When Harry spoke her name, however, her ear twitched in the boy's direction in acknowledgement. "Er, well, she's special."

"Special how?" Morgan prompted after a moment.

Harry was silent for a moment. "I'm not really sure. She's… well, she's just special, is all. I knew that when I found her."

Morgan made a noncommittal noise in her throat, and tried again. "What is it about her that makes you think she's special?"

Harry bit his lip and stroked the cat in his lap, who promptly let out a contented and resounding purr. Harry smiled gently at the creature and turned his attention back to the woman waiting patiently for his answer. "She's beautiful, for a start. All black and those green eyes… I've never seen a cat like her before." He paused for a moment, absentmindedly running his fingers through the cat's fur. "I—felt something," he finally admitted, a slight blush tingeing his cheeks. "I dunno what it was, but it felt—familiar, in a way. Like a warm blanket. You know?" He turned confused green eyes toward Morgan once more, floundering for an answer.

Morgan looked thoughtful. She knew the truth about the beast he had sleeping so peacefully in his lap, and also knew the truth about the boy's heritage, for lack of a better term. He was a magical beast in his own right, and that magic felt others of like blood—called to them, even, unless the beast in question was careful enough to shield his or her magic and in essence, his or her aura from everyone else. The question was (which, ironically, had just been answered), did Harry know of his own abilities? Unfortunately, since this was not the case, Morgan was faced with the difficult decision of either telling the boy he was not entirely human, or ignoring the issue completely and risking it biting her in the arse later on. She settled for a compromise. She'd tell the boy the truth about his cat, and leave the rest up to him. As insurance, she could have the cat help him wherever he needed and contact her if something went wrong. With that thought in mind, Morgan allowed herself a soft sigh of relief and paused a few more moments to gather her thoughts.

"I think, my young friend, that this conversation would be best held in a more private room. There are some things I need to tell you that other ears," she glanced pointedly toward the other patrons in the main dining hall, "would be not so forgiving of, if they were to overhear."

Harry nodded. He'd had enough experience eavesdropping on his Aunt and Uncle to know what to do when a conversation was not meant to be heard. Wordlessly, he gathered his cat in his arms and waved the newly re-named Munin off his shoulder so he could make his way up the stairs to the room he'd rented from Tom. He paused at the top of the staircase to see if Morgan was following and, reassured that she was, headed down the hall to his small room.

Inside Morgan took a seat on the small desk chair provided for patrons, while Harry sat opposite to her on the bed. He lay Onyx back in his lap, but the cat, having been displaced from her original position, was having none of that and leapt out of the boy's lap to perch on the edge of the desk next to Morgan, where she promptly began cleaning herself.

Morgan smiled slightly, a slight upturn of her lips in amusement. Her gray eyes, however, were all business. "As you have deduced, Harry, your pet is rather 'special'. She is not an ordinary feline in any sense. She is magical, yes, but she is also more than that. She's a panther, Harry."

Harry looked confused. "But how'd she get here? I thought panthers only lived in Asia." He turned troubled eyes to Onyx, whose green gaze met his own coolly. She licked her chops, as cats are wont to do when they've finished cleaning themselves, and Harry could see that her fangs were unlike those of old Mrs. Figgs' cats. Where theirs were small and dainty, Onyx's fangs seemed to possess more substance to them. They were—thicker in a way that promised even more growth when the cat's jaws allowed for it. There were other signs, as well, Harry knew. The rosettes marring what would've otherwise been a perfectly black pelt marked her as a member of the leopard family, and her paws. Harry recalled his first reaction to them. He'd never seen such large paws on a full-grown cat before, which suddenly made sense, now that he knew she was nowhere near full-grown.

Finally the boy looked back at Morgan, his eyes troubled. "Will Dumbledore still let me take her to Hogwarts with me?"

Morgan leaned back in her chair, contemplating her own role in this mess. Out of everyone in the Wizarding World, she alone had the knowledge, and thus the power to decide the cat's fate and through her, the boy's. While she personally thought the cat would be a great asset to the boy as he came into his heritage as a magical whatever-it-was, she had no idea as to what the Headmaster would think. She knew he was tolerant to an extent when the quirks of his students were brought to light, but she also knew first-hand how he would become extremely protective of the youngsters if any of those 'quirks' became threats to anyone's health. Morgan had to sigh at the unfairness of it all.

"Truthfully, child, I don't know the Headmaster's mind." She winced as Harry's face fell. "However, I can provide a bit of advice. Onyx is nowhere near full-grown. At the moment, she's still a kitten. I can provide for you a charm that will disguise her size, and thus not arouse any suspicion. I must add, though, that this is only a temporary solution. If she were to grow to full-size and rub up against any of your school-mates, they would immediately notice something was amiss when they felt a head rubbing up near their waist when they saw that her head only came up to mid-calf."

It was Harry's turn to look thoughtful. "Tom said you could speak to the animals," he began. Morgan hid her surprise, she hadn't known her cousin had put that much trust in the child. "If you could make her understand that only I was safe to touch?"

Morgan nodded, liking the idea. "Very well. However, I must caution you. If there ever comes a time when she is discovered, there is a forest surrounding the school that will provide shelter enough for her. While I can't give you the beast-speaking ability, I can perform a bonding ceremony beyond what I would normally do for you. That way, you will be able to 'sense' her in a way, and make the both of you empathetic to the other's emotions. I will warn you, though. The ceremony may have side-effects. What those are, I cannot say, but suffice to say if they manifest themselves, you will be acutely aware of the consequences."

Harry thought for a moment about the woman's offer, then nodded his head solemnly. He loved his cat, no, panther already as if they had known each other for years, instead of just two days. He knew without a doubt he'd do anything for her if it were humanly possible. He said as much to Morgan, who smiled gently at the boy. He'd make a good bond-partner for the beast, which was fortunate, since Onyx's particular species couldn't survive without one.

"Then let me return to my home to gather supplies. We can perform the ceremony here or there, whichever you prefer," she said, rising from her chair.

"If we go with you, will you be able to begin sooner?" Harry asked, also rising.

"I suppose," Morgan mused.

"Than may we?"

Morgan thought for a moment, then acquiesced with the condition that her cousin had to agree, since he was in effect Harry's guardian.

Almost before she had finished, the boy was racing downstairs to ask the permission of the wizened barkeep.
A half-hour later, the pair appeared in the same hallway Tom had walked through the day previous. On the way up to Morgan's chambers, she cautioned the boy to exercise discretion during his stay at the castle. There still remained parts of the castle that were untamed and unexplored, even in all the years she had been living in her ancestral home. Harry's expression turned thoughtful at her words, but he nodded all the same and promised he wouldn't go exploring.

Morgan seemed satisfied with his answer, and showed him to his own room, which was situated down the hall from her own. It had been, she explained, Tom's room when he was growing up. She helped Harry get settled in, then retired to her own rooms to collect supplies and prepare herself for the upcoming ceremony. She advised Harry to do the same and empty his mind of all thoughts except those of Onyx, and how much he cared for her. He did so, and when the knock came at his door signaling the time had come, Harry was ready. He took a deep breath and pulled Onyx into his arms. Onyx purred almost on contact, sensing her master was nervous and trying to alleviate his fears.

A white-robed figure stood in the doorway when he pulled it open. Harry recognized Morgan's eyes, and accepted the black and white cloak she placed around his shoulders. The cloak was huge, trailing on the floor and concealing his entire body and Onyx's, even his head when Morgan pulled the hood up. Silently he followed the trailing edge of her white robe, since he was unable to see more than a foot in front of his feet with the hood over his eyes.

Morgan led panther and master into a prepared chamber, lit dimly by candles and thick with the scent of the forest as incense of pine, lavender, sage, and vanilla filled the air. She motioned to the center of the room, where a circle was outlined in salt. Harry obediently followed her unspoken direction, settling himself cross-legged inside the circle, Onyx held gently in his lap. Morgan smiled reassuringly at the pair, then began the ritual. She padded over to the salt circle protecting Harry and Onyx and pulled a handful of sage from a pouch hanging from her waist. Chanting in a mixture of Latin and Gaelic, she spread the sage on top of the salt circle three times before coming to a halt. A wind began to swirl through the room as Morgan raised her hands in supplication to some unseen being and it was all Harry could do to not run away screaming as Morgan finally lowered her hands and pointed in his direction, blood red eyes boring into his own green ones. Harry did let out a shriek, however, when the otherworldly presence in the room passed through the circle of salt and sage, through him and out the other side. As the last of the "wind" flew through him, Harry slumped, unconscious.

"Hello?" Harry found himself in a blank space; a white something-or-other that he would've called a room, except it didn't seem to have any walls or ceiling. He shivered suddenly, not from cold but from memory—the memory of that thing passing through his body. He tried again. "Anybody out there?"

Far in the distance (or close by, he couldn't really tell since there were no reference points to tell him how far away he was from something), a door seemed to open—or maybe space just folded in upon itself to reveal…"Onyx?"

He didn't realize he'd said the last aloud until the panther kit padded up to him and rubbed her face along his leg. Yes, it is I, master.

"Where are we?" Harry asked his pet, not in the least bit surprised she was speaking to him. Then again, that could've just been the influence of the wherever-he-was. He couldn't seem to work himself into any semblance of strong emotion, positive or otherwise.

I wouldn't know what to call it in the human tongue. My people call this place the Ni'ix—the place between. It is where we go to perform the bonding ceremonies or simply communicate with loved ones who are far away physically, sometimes also with the recently dead.

"Recently? Why only recently dead?"

Our shades—fade after a while. Either that or they're reincarnated as another of my people, or something else, I'm not quite sure. Actually, before now I'd never been here before in this life. Onyx leapt gracefully up to Harry's shoulders, where she purred contentedly as he reached up a hand to stroke her backside. Mmm, yeah. Right… there, oh that's good. Her purr rose in volume as Harry scratched at the desired spot until a voice interrupted.

WHO ARE YOU THAT WOULD ENTER THE REALM OF THE PARD K'HAKRA?

Harry jumped and looked around fearfully, the force of his surprise throwing Onyx off his shoulders. She slunk away, growling at either him or the voice, Harry didn't know. "Er, Harry Potter, sir. This is my familiar, Onyx. We were…"

DON'T TELL ME YOU WERE! TELL ME WHAT YOU ARE! WHAT YOU ARE DOING HERE, MONGREL, WITH ONE OF THE PARD. EXPLAIN. NOW.

Harry swallowed convulsively. "I—we…"

Onyx saved him from answering. It is a bonding ceremony, great one. He is to be my bond-partner.

The voice was silent for a moment, then: UNDERSTOOD.

Onyx looked out into the white abyss. Will you oversee?

This time, the voice held a note of amusement. YES, YOUNG ONE. AFTER ALL, IT WAS WHAT THE FAERIE CALLED ME TO DO.

Harry couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief.

The ceremony itself lasted only a few moments. Morgan kept watch over the body of Harry Potter (the feline's body had disappeared to wherever Harry's mind was, as was expected), fulfilling her role as anchor to the real world. She watched as Harry's body glowed briefly with an amethyst light, signaling the forging of the bond. Morgan smiled in relief at the successful completion of the ceremony; she'd hoped there wouldn't be any side-effects.

When Harry woke up, it was mid-morning, although from his room he wouldn't be able to tell since it was windowless. A candle burned in a stand next to his bed, a puddle of wax forming at the base. He almost stretched, but felt the familiar weight of Onyx on his chest and decided against it, unwilling to waken the feline. She woke anyway, and leveled a green-eyed stare at him, shocking Harry slightly. As her eyes met his, he realized he could feel her annoyance with him. Abashed, he blushed, but Onyx paid him no heed and pulled herself out of the ball she'd been tucked into and stretched, leaping lightly to the floor when she'd finished. He felt a tendril of amusement brush his consciousness, to which he sent a half-hearted glare. He pulled himself out of bed and stretched his own way, popping the stiff joints in his back. Quickly, he pulled on the extra set of over-large jeans and shirt he'd brought from his trunk in the Leaky Cauldron and headed down the hall, hopefully in the direction of the kitchen.

The rest of the day flew by in a blur for Harry. Morgan tested his newfound connection with Onyx as she compared notes with the cat (it was the oddest thing, Harry thought, when he'd walked in on the two in the library, Morgan talking to Onyx aloud and taking notes(!) on what she "said", while the cat physically seemed to be ignoring her in favor of cleaning her nether regions). He was asked if he felt any different, to which he replied that the only difference he could think of was the extra set of emotions in the back of his head. Onyx had simply sent a thought of extreme amusement to Harry and a comment of a different sort to Morgan, who laughed aloud. She kept her agreement with Harry, placing the charms on Onyx that would keep the panther to an outwardly manageable large housecat size. She also explained to Onyx the need for extreme aloofness, to which the feline readily agreed. She wasn't too fond of most humans, notably those who had taken her to the pet shop, but around any human (with the exceptions of Harry and Morgan, of course), she was extremely wary. Morgan relayed her answer to Harry, who offered his gratitude by scratching the feline behind her ears, which earned him a rumbling purr. Finally, it was time to go back to the inn. Harry thanked Morgan profusely for her time and ability, but the woman waved it off with a smile and a hug for the young boy, as well as a request that he visit her again at the end of the year, to check up on how he and the panther were faring. Harry gave his word and tossed the floo powder she'd given him into the huge fireplace, shouting "The Leaky Cauldron!" at the top of his lungs. Once both cat and boy were safely sequestered back in their room, Harry wasted no time—as soon as his feet left the floor and his head hit the pillow, the young werewolf and bond-partner to Onyx the panther of the pard K'hakra, fell fast asleep.

There. This chapter is finally finished, after much blood, sweat, and tears. Hope y'all enjoyed it. Meh. It's nearing midnight, and I've work yet to be done on things of the educational persuasion. Therefore, even though I'm not at all happy with the way this chapter turned out, I'll be posting it. Maybe it's just me, but Harry seems so… submissive in this part. Far more so than he had last chapter. Eh. Oh well. It's late, maybe I'm just imagining things. I'll take this time now to post a second disclaimer and thank my reviewers.

Special Disclaimer the Second: Morgan Fey is mine, as are Onyx and Raven, also called Munin, although the name itself and history behind it belongs to Norse mythology. The idea of the pard belongs to Laurell K. Hamilton, though she may have gotten it from the actual definition of a leopard group, I don't know. However, as it stands, the K'hakra (pronounced: Kah-HA-kra), the Ni'ix (pronounced: NY-ix), and the idea of the original Animagus, as well as any of the dozen other small things you don't recognize are all products of my own imagination, and may not be used without my permission, or the permission of my muse.

Thanks to: Manny2003, drunkenwerewolf, Sarah R Potter, Pyr00tje, Final Spirit, Dak Potter-Malfoy, KitsuneSkye203, Hakkai, HecateDeMort, Shadowed Rains, Maze2004, A Teenage Werewolf, Shea Loner

Tempest in Blue: Remus won't be coming around for a while yet. I'm sticking to canon in that area…if my bloody muse cooperates, of course.

Azura-Fei-Long: Frankly, I'm not sure yet. I think so, though. For now, any other colors will be shades and mixtures of those three, showing to what degree he's feeling that emotion…hell, if that's the case, his eyes might just turn brown if he's as messed up as I am.

Maya100: come now, if I told you that the whole plot would be ruined!