The fates granted them a whole week without snow. The potions master thought that they were proceeding nicely. Slowly, but steadily. Potter, for once, didn´t complain about the food. They found some more edible plants in the fields, once they even tried sugar-beets. The first bite made it clear why this plant wasn´t used in any cuisine Snape had ever heard of.
After a week, winter returned with storms and snow. This time, there wasn´t a snow cover of some centimeters. No, the snow was deeper than the two wizards were high in their catform. After a fruitless attempt to travel on in catform, they had to admit defeat and resume their human frames.
Snape hated the thought of travelling as a muggle. They had no money and no decent winter clothes. Their robes hardly qualified as coats and the sweaters they had ´borrowed´ were ridiculous. At least his was. He sneered down at his Betty-Boop-clad chest.
"It could be worse," Potter said softly. "It could be Barbie."
The potions master had no idea what the boy was talking about, but one look in his face told him that he didn´t want to know.
As they had to fight their way through the snow, travelling by night didn´t seem wise any longer. Potter, having grown up with muggles, also pointed out that they would be taken into a house more likely, if they showed up in the evening. So travelling by day it was.
They hiked in human form as far as they could and when dawn fell, they transformed hidden from muggle eyes and went looking for a good soul to accept them into the house for the night.
Potter, it turned out, knew a great deal about acting cute and softening people´s hearts. The potions master thought it strange as he had never taken the boy for vain, but he didn´t complain as long as the boy´s behaviour bought him a bowl of milk and a warm place for the night.
They spent the first night at an old lady´s, who owned three cats herself. She tried to feed them cat food from tins, but apart from that, the night was not bad.
The second evening Potter miaowed their way into a house with a child. The girl – she had to be twelve or thirteen – fed them pieces of sausage and cheese from the table despite her mother´s protests. After the meal, the child fetched a ball of wool and sat on the carpet in front of the fireplace. Snape was taken aback. What was this about?
Potter, on the other hand, wandered around the girl, purring and occasionally rubbing against her. Snape took it that the boy knew what was to come.
The girl held the wool up and dangled a thread in front of the boy´s nose. Potter stopped in his track and observed the bait. Snape closed his eyes. She couldn´t be serious.
Potter whiped his tail. He stood, stooped, and lay back his ears. Then he pawed at the thread. The girl giggled and rose the wool a bit higher above Potter´s head. There! Potter wiggled his behind before he jumped.
"Mum!" the girl cried happily. "Come and look! Isn´t he cute?"
Potter waited until ´Mum´ had joined them before he repeated his performance. This time he even added a funny roll when he landed. He scrambled to his feet and looked around as if dazzled. ´Mum´ joined her daughter´s laughter.
Two funny jumps (and backside wiggles) later, Potter got a reward of a small piece of roast beef. The boy strolled around the muggles, purring.
"What about the other one?" asked ´Mum´.
The girl grinned and dangled the wool in front of the potions master. Snape hit the wool with his paw lazily. The girl raised the wool a bit. It was out of reach now. "Come, kitty, jump!" the girl cried happily. Snape gave her a glare that would have given any Hogwarts student a heart-attack, but this muggle was unimpressed. "Come, kitty, don´t be a bore!"
Potter approached his teacher carefully. He sat beside him and nudged him with his shoulder. Then the boy wiggled his backside and jumped.
The girl withdrew the wool at the last moment, but gave Potter more roast beef. The boy chewed on it and glared at the potions master challengingly.
The potions master stiffled a sigh. Roast beef was his favourite. Reluctantly he stood when the girl held her wool up again. Carefully he moved his hips. Yes, it worked nicely. He jumped. While he chewed his slice of roast beef, he tried to remember how many times Potter had deserved death within the past month.
-x-
Some nights went not so well. Neither of the two wizards was ever going to forget the man who had tried to make one of them his ´natural thermal blanket´. They escaped narrowly thanks to Snape scratching the man´s face and Potter´s biting his ankle. After their flight – hopefully the muggle was never going to remember a cat hanging on his door handle and turning the key – they sat panting behind some rubbish bins. It was snowing heavily, but neither of them cared. They didn´t dare seek out another muggle this evening.
However, the worst was yet to come.
If the potions master had counted the days of their odyssey right, it was early December. The storms had weakened, but the snow lay higher than Snape remembered it to ever have at this time of the year. How very appropriate, he thought fatalistically, for the weather to do its worst when he was on a forced hiking tour with Harry Potter.
They had wandered past the lights of what Snape hoped was Newcastle and Potter had purred their way into a house, where they were given milk and leftovers of roast pork. The muggle residents, a couple of perhaps fourty – they seemed to be childless, for which Snape was grateful as he didn´t feel like chasing wool or whatever – left the room after setting a bowl of food in front of their furry guests.
They returned shortly later with a man holding a plastic box. Snape nearly panicked. He retreated, hissing and spitting. Potter wasn´t as quick on the uptake, but when he saw the man´s overall, he joined his teacher´s protests.
"Sometimes I think they can read," the man said to the couple. He put his box on the table and approached the spitting cats.
Snape and his charge both shrank back. The potions master tried to see a way out, but the door had been closed and there were three muggles in the small room.
The overall-clad man – he wore protective gloves, so scratching and biting wasn´t going to help – stepped nearer and bent down to get the first cat. Snape tried by instinct to get between the man and Potter, but he knew it was no use.
The man grabbed the boy first and stuffed the struggling cat into the box, all the while promising him to not hurt him and to only have his best in mind. When the small lattice closed on Potter, Snape gave up his fight. He allowed himself to be picked up and put into the box, too. They couldn´t be seperated.
The potions master wondered what an animal shelter was going to be like.
-x-
Purgatory. Hell. Beelzebub´s retreat.
They were locked in a tiny cage. A tiny, cold metal cage. There wasn´t even a blanket to rest on. The only thing in it – apart from them – was a bowl with water. They hadn´t been fed yet. How ironic that they had to fight nail and tooth to end up in there. The one advantage the cage had was that they were in it together.
The keeper, another man wearing a blue overall, had tried to put them into seperate rooms. Both cats had scratched, bitten, hissed and spat until they were put back into their plastic prison. There, they had sat side by side and purred loudly. The boy had even gone so far to rub his head against his companion´s side – another reason to kill him once they were safely back.
However, the muggle had gotten the message and put them into this cage.
"Calm down," he said as he closed the small door. "I´ll get the vet to see you and then you´ll get some nice healthy food. You´ll see, we´ll find you a home in a trice. – You at least." The last was adressed at Potter. The boy had the decency to hiss at the man angrily.
Now they were waiting for the vet. Snape was a bit anxious what this person was going to do to them. He had never been to a muggle doctor, much less a veterinary.
The boy looked equally anxious. Perhaps he hadn´t been to a veterinary either? Snape tried to remember whether the Golden Boy had ever mentioned a muggle pet, but he couldn´t recall any.
The man returned with the doctor a while later. The potions master thought that seeing a vet might be not that bad. The veterinary turned out to be a woman of perhaps thirty, thirty-five at the most, with long blonde hair, greyish-green eyes and a brilliant smile.
"So, Paul, where are your wildcats?" she teased when she entered the room.
"Over there. In cage D."
The woman came nearer and gazed at the two black cats. "They look perfectly harmless."
"As long as you don´t try to touch them," said the man called Paul. "Try to seperate them and they´ll run wild."
"Can you take one of them to my table?" the woman asked kindly.
Paul put on gloves and reached for Potter. The boy hissed, but stayed still otherwise. The woman took the cat from Paul and scratched his ears. "Ssssh," she soothed. "Nobody´s going to harm you beautiful. I´m just going to make sure you´re not ill. Nobody will take in a cat without a health certificate and you want to find a home, don´t you?"
Potter calmed down a bit and purred, but only until the woman tried to find out whether he had fever. Paul hurried to assist her and held Potter down.
Snape felt his blood leave his face as he watched Potter´s eyes bulging out in shock. Hadn´t it been for his black fur, he´d have been chalk white. There was no way he was going to let that muggle put her thermometer THERE!
After the woman was sure that the cat on her table had no fever, she examined its teeth (Potter tried to bite her, but to no success) and gave him an injection ("Nobody ever cared to inoculate you, did they?"). Then Potter was handed back to Paul, who carried him back to the cage.
Potter panted as if he had run a marathon. Snape shrank back as far as possible, but Paul´s glove-clad hand reached for him and dragged him out. The potions master hissed at the woman and arched his back.
"We are a little devil, aren´t we?" the woman asked casually. "Don´t release him, Paul." She reached for her thermometer. Snape struggled desperately, but Paul was stronger. At last the potions master had to admit defeat and endure the procedure. He stood, his head held high, trying to hold onto his dignity. Was Potter smirking at him?
The examination of teeth ("If you were human I´d recommend a denture.") and the injection ("Actually this is a waste of material. Who´s going to take this shabby creature?") were not so bad. At last the veterinary – Snape vowed to himself to hex her into oblivion as soon as he got his wand back – ordered Paul to brush the potions master´s fur.
"Tell applicants we give them away only together. Perhaps Gorgeous is going to buy his friend a home. We can always give this one away alone, if it doesn´t work," the woman rummaged in a drawer. "Here, add a drop of this to the shabby´s food. It will make the fur more shiny."
"Do you think it will really help?" Paul laughed while holding Snape down and brushing his back not too gently. The potions master decided when he came back for the woman, he could as well hex them both.
"Not really," laughed the veterinary and turned in the doorway, "but we want to try everything, don´t we?"
When Paul had finished Snape´s trim, he sat him back into the cage and followed the woman outside.
The potions master shivered violently. Potter shuffled closer and licked the other cat´s neck twice, before he seemed to remember whom he was encaged with and withdrew. This time Snape didn´t think about killing the boy.
-x-
In the morning, the two magical cats were moved to another cage in a large room, where dozens of cats waited to be taken into a new home.
Unsurprisingly, the veterinary was right. Even that very afternoon two families wanted to take Potter with them, but they withdrew their requests when they were informed that they had to take both cats.
Snape spent hours cleaning his fur. They needed someone to take them out of the animal shelter to continue their journey home. Their cage was too small to transform in it and so they had to wait for a good soul to free them.
Life in their cage was bad. They got only muggle cat food from tins and it tasted abysmal. Snape had to force himself to eat at all and Potter was equally reluctant to stomach their hellish diet. The only reason why Snape didn´t go on hunger strike was the prospect of being presented to the veterinary again.
The potions master waited anxiously for the day when the muggles were going to decide that Potter was better off without him. They had been imprisoned for a fortnight now. How was he supposed to find the boy when he was adopted by a muggle family? How was he supposed to get out of the cage alone? His only hope was that the boy was going to transform and come back for him, but what if Potter didn´t or couldn´t? Was the boy old enough to get a cat from the shelter? And did you need money to get one?
Snape was startled from his thoughts by voices coming nearer.
"My son wants a black cat," he heard a man say. "I´d like to give him one for Christmas."
"You´re lucky, Sir," Paul answered. "We have several to choose from."
The clicking sound of heeled boots came nearer. "Ah, the big one is exactly what my son would like," the man said when he stood in front of their cage.
Both wizards withdrew to the back wall of their cage. Through the bars, Lucius Malfoy was staring at them.
"An excellent choice, Sir," said Paul. "But these two are only available together. They grew up together and wouldn´t like to be seperated."
The blond smiled sweetly. "No problem," he said. "We have plenty of room for two. Draco will be thrilled."
The two cats were put into another plastic cage – Lucius Malfoy informed Paul that he wished to purchase the item as he had no time to bring it back – and the muggle carried them outside for his customer.
In the corridor they met the veterinary. "Sheela, our two shadows have found a home," Paul cried cheerfully.
The woman smiled at Lucius Malfoy. "That´s very good of you to take them both, Sir."
"Who would want to do otherwise when they are friends," the blond wizard smiled, though there was no warmth behind it. He led the way to the parking lot.
A man in a black uniform was waiting for him by the car. With a shudder, the potions master recognised Wormtail. The small man hinted a bow when Lucius approached and opened the door to the front seat for Paul to put the cage into the car.
After a short conversation (Paul wished the blonde joy with his new pets and Lucius promised to feed them well) the blond wizard climbed into the car and off they were.
-x-
Wormtail looked into the rear view mirror to gaze at Lucius.
"Two?" he asked finally.
"They wouldn´t give me the one I chose without the other. It´s no problem. Draco needs something to practice his unforgivables anyway."
The two cats stared at each other in shock. This was so very bad! For two months they had managed to stay undetected by deatheaters. Oh, what irony that they were going to be caught, because Lucius Malfoy purchased his son´s Christmas present at a muggle institution.
"Did you order the Christmas roast, Wormtail?" the older Malfoy asked after a little while of quiet travelling. "The Dark Lord will grace us with his presence at Christmas. Everything has to be perfect."
"I ordered two, just to make sure," Wormtail replied eagerly.
"Well done, Wormtail, well done," drawled Lucius. "What else will we need? You have been His closest servant. You know what he likes. What else can we do to please Him?"
"I discussed the menu with Lady Narcissa yesterday," Wormtail pointed out proudly. "Have you thought of entertainment? He has a liking for piano music. Do you know how to play? Or did you at least invite a decent pianist? It would also be good to have one or two of his enemies imprisoned. Just in case he gets in a mood for some torture."
"Hmm, enemies? No, I haven´t thought of that. It´s a bit short notice to come up with a plan."
"A plan? Lucius, you don´t need to present Him with Harry Potter! Just imprison someone who´s not full-heartedly devoted to Him and He´ll be pleased."
"That can be easily arranged. Has anyone punished the Burbages yet? One of their sons married a muggle."
"Ah, blood-traitors. Brilliant."
They drove through iron gates and up to Malfoy Manor.
Lucius Malfoy got off the car. "Bring them to Draco´s rooms," he ordered, skipping back from brothers in arms to master and servant flawlessly. "Tell the house elves to feed them and tend to their fur. And have bows put on them." He entered the house with long strides without waiting for Wormtails reply.
The smaller wizard went around the car and took the box out. "You´re pretty heavy!" he complained while he carried the two cats up a marble staircase.
Draco´s rooms turned out to be on the second floor and were nearly as big as Hogwart´s Great Hall. Wormtail put the box down and called for an elf.
"How may Potty serve you?" a young elf bowed low.
"These are Master Draco´s new pets." Wormtail motioned at the box. "Lord Lucius wishes they be fed and brushed. And make sure they don´t destroy any of Master Draco´s possessions."
The elf bowed again and Wormtail left. Carefully the elf came nearer. "It is cats!" it squeaked. "Potty hates cats! They are going to scratch and bite Potty!" The elf opened the box from a distance.
Slowly, careful not to scare the elf, Potter tiptoed out. The elf retreated. "Oh, master is not going to be pleased. Potty is afraid of cats. Potty is a bad elf!" The creature smacked its cheek violently.
The young animagus followed the elf until the servant was backed against the wall and couldn´t escape. The scared creature raised its arms to protect its face. Potter closed the distance on soft paws and rubbed his head against the elf, purring.
Hadn´t their wellbeing depended on the elf, Snape would have vomited there and then.
The elf stood on tiptoe, his arms raised protectively in front of its face and shivered. Slowly, centimeter by centimeter, the creature lowered its hands as Potter continued rubbing his head on the elf´s dirty knees.
"You is a friendly cat!" the elf piped.
Potter purred even louder. The elf took it as agreement and shyly touched the animagus´ head with his left hand, only to withdraw an instant later. The boy stopped his rubbing and looked the elf in the eyes, still purring. Hesitantly the elf extended its hand again. This time it stroked the purring cat cautiously. Potter leaned into the touch and purred even louder, if this was possible.
The elf giggled nervously.
Snape wished he had a wand. He´d cast the killing curse on himself without hesitation. As he had none, he grudgingly admired Potter´s marvellous instincts when it came to non-verbal communication with magical creatures.
The boy chose this moment to glare at the potions master sternly.
Yes, they needed this elf to feed them.
Cautiously, not to frighten the servant, Snape tiptoed nearer. He leaned closer and allowed the elf to touch him. He tried to purr, but no sound would come out. The potions master made a mental note to ask Potter how it was done the next time they transformed. If there was a next time.
"You is two friendly cats!" Potty, the elf, beamed. It didn´t seem offended by Snape´s lack of audible signs of delight. "Potty is going to bring you food." With a crack the elf disapparated.
Potter started to explore Draco´s room at once. He hopped on the desk, but it had been tidied up. There was nothing interesting to be found. Snape followed the boy´s lead and inspected the book shelves. There were more tomes on dark magic than in the restricted area of Hogwarts´ library, but nothing useful for a wandless wizard. The boy continued his exploration on the bedside table, but this, too, seemed to have been cleaned of all items.
At last the boy lay down on Draco´s pillow and curled up for a nap.
Snape looked around to find himself a spot to do the same. At last he curled up beside the boy. How was he supposed to protect him from the other side of the room?
-x-
The elf returned quickly, Snape hadn´t even fallen asleep. It rumaged in a corner of the room, then turned to another and finally went to search for the cats.
"You is not to sleep in Master Draco´s bed!" it scolded when it found them. It slapped Potter on his behind, but withdrew nervously when Snape hissed at it. "Alright," it piped, "Potty is going to clean Master Draco´s bed, if Master´s cats wish to sleep there. – Potty will show cats their things."
Snape followed Potter down to the floor and after the elf. He hoped that the small creature wasn´t going to realise that this was rather un-catish behaviour.
"This is Master´s cats dining area," said the elf. Two bowls made of fine white china stood on a small carpet – was this a Persian? One was filled with milk and one with – roast beef? "Master´s cats will get the left overs of the day before," the elf explained importantly, oblivious to the fact that real cats were not likely to understand him.
"This," the elf went on without giving them time to eat and proceeded to the other corner, "is Master´s cats´ toilet. You is not to use any other spot of the room."
Snape sighed. The fortnight with Potter in a cage had been humiliating, his rotten luck that it wasn´t over. Couldn´t they have two toilets?
"Potty will be back in a while." The elf bowed and left.
The two cats returned to their food bowls and shared an excellent meal. The Malfoys, it turned out, had an extraordinary good taste for food and very skilled house elves.
After the meal the potions master shouldered past Potter to use the cat toilet first. If they had to share, he would get the pleasure of using a fresh one at least once. He should have known that the Malfoy household provided better than the muggle animal shelter. As soon as he was done, he felt a tingle of magic. He looked down. Yes, the sand was clean again. Next he felt a tickling on his behind. Grateful for his black fur to hide his blush, he left the box. Disgusting as it was, he´d have prefered to clean himself THERE.
After a brief tongue-wash of his fur, the potions master returned to Draco´s pillow for another nap. There wasn´t much else to do. He didn´t dare sleep at once, but after watching Potter playing with the toilet for a quarter hour, he decided that the cleaning charm didn´t present imminent danger and closed his eyes.