Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

Pretty Kitty

Harry never did figure out what had happened that day at the park. All he remembered was sleeping for a very long time, when he woke up it had been dark. And the Dursley's never did hear about what had happened, for some reason Mrs. Figg had kept her silence about Harry running off that day.

Harry decided not to tell his aunt and uncle about it. They would be livid about him running away from a babysitter, and the mention of feeling a tree shimmer would only fuel their anger. He remembered when he had told them of flying on a motorcycle, they had both gone unusually pale, and then locked him in his cupboard for a week.

It was almost the end of July when the Dursley's had started acting weird. Harry knew that his birthday was coming up, but did not understand why they were acting as they were. Aunt Petunia had been giving Harry more and more work each day, and they were trying to ignore him as much as possible, keeping him in the cupboard when there was nothing to do. One day he heard his aunt muttering something in a quiet and irritated voice to his uncle.

"You don't think they will come, do you? I know they haven't before, but what if they decide to check on him?"

"They wouldn't dare," his uncle had bellowed, his face growing a violent shade of purple.

"But what if they do? What if he finds out?"

"He won't, we'll lock him in the cupboard, if they come asking around for him, we will simply tell them that he's at a friends house for the night," Uncle Vernon decidedly finished.

Harry did not know what to make of the situation, were they talking about him? He was sure that they were, but what would they be hiding from him. He had been told that his parents were in a car crash and died. That was where the scar had come from. He had been left with his only living relatives, Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon, who had a son, Dudley, who was a couple months older than Harry. What was there to hide?

A week after eavesdropping on his relatives, Harry was working in the garden when he felt a prickling sensation on his neck, like he was being watched. Slowly turning around and looking at his surroundings, he didn't see anyone. He was just about to turn back to the garden when a movement in the shadows caught his eyes. Peering into where he was sure he had seen something, he caught sight of two yellow eyes staring at him. It was a tabby cat.

Harry's eyes widened slightly as he stared at the cat. It wasn't so much of the shock of seeing a cat in a neighborhood that didn't allow pets, or even that the cat appeared to be much more knowledgeable and aware than usual. No, the cat had a shimmery feeling like the oak tree had.

Curious, Harry slowly walked toward the cat while humming, so as not to upset it. Gently picking it up, Harry cradled the cat in his arms, much like a mother would hold her baby.

The cat started purring as Harry softly sang to it.

"Pretty little Kitty,

as beautiful as can be,

pretty little kitty,

all striped and shimmery."

"Boy! What are you doing?!?! I asked you to weed the garden, not play with stupid animals! Get over here now," Aunt Petunia's voice split through the air in a shrill scream.

Jumping slightly, Harry set the cat back onto the ground. "Sorry Kitty, I have to go. Bye bye, Kitty." The tabby cat watched as the sweet boy walked off. If a cat could look sad, this cat would have looked the part as the boy disappeared into the house. The cat turned around and trotted into an alley, and then, it disappeared with a loud 'pop!'

Five minutes later, and miles away, a woman appeared in front of a gate. Walking through it and down the dirt path, she headed up towards a majestic castle that was actually a school.

Walking up through seemingly random staircases and corridors, she finally reached a statue of a hideous looking gargoyle. It appeared to be waiting for something, and sure enough, after the woman muttered something under her breath, it jumped aside to reveal a spiral staircase.

Upon entering the room, an ancient looking man gently smiled. "Good afternoon, Minerva. May I offer you a lemon drop?"

Minerva's lips thinned a little, "No, thank you. Headmaster, as you know, I went to check on the boy today. I -"

"Must I keep asking you to call me Albus?" the man cut her off, "Well, no matter. How is the dear boy doing?"

"Those muggles are the worst sort. They don't treat him right, and he looks unusually skinny. And you should have seen the clothes they had him in! It's despicable! They had him weeding the garden, and the day before I saw him making them breakfast! He's only a five! Albus, I really think that we should get him out of there before anything happens."

"My dear Minerva, I am sure that it wasn't that bad, they are his relatives after all. We'll check on him again next year. If things are really as you say, we will take him away from them. For the time being though, I think that it would be safer to maintain the status quo."

Minerva was not happy with this answer, you could tell by the way her lips had thinned and her eyes were flashing. The headmaster simply didn't understand the whole situation. With a sigh of resignation, she turned to leave. "Very well Albus, if that's what you think is best, I'll leave you to mull over things. If you change your mind, you know where I am." With that she walked out the door, leaving the headmaster to contemplate the situation.