Silver Claws and Cat Tails

Abby Ebon

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Disclaimer; I do not own Harry Potter. I do not own X-Men.

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A-Magic-Lets-The-World-Turn-About

O.o.O.o.O.o.O

Only to be woken later by the clash of steel against ice, it gave way as they woke, and a face familiar and loathed appeared, leering as nostrils visibly flared to take in their mingled scents.

"Smells like you've had fun." It felt as if Sabertooth had given them his blessing and feeling altogether awkward and defiant the three dressed and followed Sabertooth wordlessly to an enlarged snowmobile. So it was they were taken to their next task at the foot of the mountains, surrounded by dense forest and with the Brotherhood and Magneto to meet them.

O.o.O.o.O.o.O

"What the hell happened to you?" Rogue was never one for beating around the bush, and it showed. Harry felt his cheeks flush, shifting awkwardly and not looking up to glance to Pyro or Lance. He was very consciously aware of his appearance; he looked not quite like a cat-person any more, though somehow frailer, as if he was made to fit into his snowy surroundings.

The stranger aspects of his 'mutation' had somehow faded with his magic. He still had silver hair, though it was only on his head and fell a little past his shoulders; he even still had his kitty-ears and tail. He loathed the both of them, though Wanda cooing might have had something to do with that.

"We, uh, ran into some trouble finding, erm, shelter, yeah, and well, the important thing is…erk…uh." To say 'a few' were puzzled by Lance's attempts to speak would likely have gotten a dark mutter, or at best an eye roll. Mystique obviously had more class, as she only raised an eyebrow before intervening.

"That my lessons had some effect…" Harry looked at her thankfully, leaving both Lance and Pyro – if it were at all possible – even more puzzled. A hint of a smile could have touched her lips; then again, it might have been a shadow.

"They did?" Lance asked baffled and clueless, Pyro slowly closed his eyes and counted to a triple-digit-number. Few knew the patience it took to deal with Lance, nor appreciated it. In all truth, Pyro was also good with numbers.

"They did." Harry spoke up, seeing as Pyro was otherwise occupied with controlling his temper, which was likely a very good thing.

"Yeah, of course they did." Lance echoed, frowning between Pyro and Harry. His expression said quite plainly that he intended to get answers. It was the expression that Pyro opened his eyes to see, muttering under his breath of block-headed earth-tremblers, Pyro took Lance to the side, likely so the others wouldn't interfere with his attempt to hammer something like sense into his –among other things (leader, lover…) - best friend.

"I…congratulate you, Mystique." Magneto said slowly, as if savoring the words. Though his gaze lingered on Lance and Pyro. That might have been because Pyro – when he got intense (and when was he ever not 'intense'?) – tended to wave his hands about like someone on a stage.

"Thank you, Magneto." There was something very amused in Mystique's tones; Harry looked at her, puzzled. She had always been something of an oddity to him. Their first encounter hadn't gone very well, but she showed an earnest need to help him, and now this…

Magneto, as if to regain control of the situation, cleared his throat. He got attention, not even Lance or Pyro would dare not give him his due.

"Of, course… thus far Brotherhood, we have tested your stamina, your ingenuity, now we will test how well you would survive. You will be prey, you can hide or do anything you like, but we will hunt you, and if you survive long enough, only then will you be allowed to go about and help us recover a captured mutant." Sabertooth gave a fanged smile. It was clear enough which of the three adults had come up with this sort of training.

"Is this understood? There are no rules, you have a half hour or so of a head start, use it well." As Magneto continued, Harry had to stifle a chuckle; Sabertooth looked very much as if he was pouting.

"Yes, Sir." Lance, as was usual, spoke for the Brotherhood. Harry carefully did not dwell on what might happen – what could happen – to fracture that bond. Knowing better then to split up in the sight of their would-be 'hunters', they hustled together into the forest. They had no maps and no supplies. They were also tired and hungry, for they remembered well their last meal had been the morning before heading out toward the mountain.

O.o.O.o.O.o.O

"That back there, that was a bunch of bull-shit, they likely know it too. What the hell went on that you think you can't talk about in front of us?" Wanda demanded of the three, it seemed the Brotherhood had had its own plan concerning "survival training". It included interrogation and practically shouting out where they were. Harry had little doubt they'd fight off Magneto if they had to, just to get answers.

It wasn't in the least bit amusing, either.

"They had sex." Remy said it plainly enough, and Harry bit his tongue to keep from giggling a bit hysterically. He guessed that "couples" gave off a certain emotion, and one glimpse into either of their minds would likely spell it out simply enough. He felt bad about that; he had honestly liked Remy, he'd been a bit cold but Harry could understand that well enough.

"For shit sake, is that all? God, you three are dense, and here I thought it was something..." Pietro was on the verge of ranting, and it was clear the siblings had been equally suspicious and worried. Wanda was more vocal of it, was all.

"It isn't all." Remy added. Harry had to wonder if he was enjoying this.

"What do ye mean, swamp rat?" Rogue murmured softly, her eyes narrowed as she took in the three in them, as if trying to see what Remy did. It was very discerning, for Wanda and Pietro looked to be trying to mirror her. To give him credit, Harry knew it wasn't Remy who said anything next...

"He's ah…" Mortimer started, stopping mid-sentence when the whole of the Brotherhood turned their eyes to him. He flushed, looking away. For a moment there was relief for the Harry, it didn't last long.

"He's got magic. Or something a lot like it." Fred blurted out, even when doubt and some bit of ridiculousness showed in Rogue and Wanda's gaze, they didn't flinch. Seeing Remy wasn't the least bit surprised they started to put bits of the puzzle together. They were smart, Harry had known that the moment he had met them, it was why he had been so careful, had even gone along with most of the stuff they said.

They knew now, and Harry didn't think he had the magic to pull it from them. They were mutants, there was, after all, something to be said about the magical community and its fears.

"Showing up out of no-where…" Pietro muttered, almost too soft to be heard, but he was, and Harry could see the down-ward spiral of the effect even if he closed his eyes.

"Staying so long like he had, if it had been normal, wouldn't - couldn't have been…" Wanda swallowed, leaving the left unsaid, it didn't need to be spoken. They had always had their suspicions of his shocking appearance going unnoticed for so long…

"To say nothing of his past, we could understand, but…not even a name…what – or who – are ye hiding from? We thought you'd tell us in time – when you trusted us, and we you, was why we didn't push, seems the right time now…" Rogue asked there wasn't anything of an accusation in her, but pity. Maybe even a bit of anger toward what Harry hid from. It made Pyro and Lance both shift uneasily, glancing between each other with some guilt. They had thought they could hide it all from the Brotherhood, but they couldn't even do that.

"What really tipped me off were the lights – not just the ones with Sabertooth…and how the electricity always behaved around you." Fred told him, Mortimer pouted just a little bit at the reminder.

"Does the telly always go on the fritz 'cause of you?" Mortimer asked, and Harry was reminded that there had been a television downstairs, but it hadn't seemed to work…he had thought it for show. It did explain why both of those two had been so cold toward him; they had thought he'd done something on purpose.

"What about you, Remy?" Wanda asked then, calmed down somewhat, though still curious to how Remy had been so sure of the truth.

"He doesn't exist to me. First I thought it was a trick, but he…it's a relief not to have to guard from thought and feeling, is really all." Harry remembered then that Remy had been almost enraged with their first encounter. If would be explained, if he thought Harry were playing with him. He must have realized otherwise later, sometime between when they first sat down at the table…and when they had met up again that night.

Harry saw Rogue watching him, Lance and Pyro were still both hovering, and he was reminded all at once of being asked his name. What he was. What he hid from. It had come out, but he didn't know if he was supposed to panic, or if it was to be a relief.

"My name is Harry Potter. I suppose you could say, then, that I am a wizard - an' a mutant. My people don't like that much. Don't like mutants at all, and a closer second to their dislike would be normal folk. Call 'em 'muggles', and those born without a witch or wizard in the family are called 'mud bloods'. I am sorry for…" Harry started to say, but he paused – how could he begin to apologies for deceiving them? For lying, and even putting them in danger…what if even now the Council – or the Ministry – caught up to him and decided to take the Brotherhood as well? It wouldn't have to be for much….even just to spite him.

"Don't be, sorry…Harry. We've all got reasons. What you running from, a bunch of purists?" Wanda asked, only then did he notice she looked fierce and ready to bring harm to those she thought deserving. Harry was flattered she thought him worth so much effort.

"In a way, they have a right to be what they are; last time they walked openly without fear was likely when Rome fell. They – we, rather - are long lived, and human enough to put fear of what was and might be before what could be; powerful enough to be tyrants if we imagine a wrong." There was regret in his words, though they heard the bitterness well enough.

"Is that how they knew?" Pyro asked of him, seeing the open puzzlement, he swallowed, remembering sharply what he had overheard just the other night.

"They who?" Rogue questioned him with a frown.

"Magneto and the adults, I mean – heard them talking the other night. They knew you were a wizard, that there is something like a magical community, and they you were likely running from it…how'd they known otherwise, if you didn't tell them so?" Pyro licked his lips, visibly nervous.

"I don't know…." Harry glanced to the ground so they could not see his expression. Remy understood and moved forward, if the Brotherhood had been anything but supportive, they would have recognized the gesture as protective. Remy met each of there eyes, certain only then that he had their attention.

"No time to find out, either, our half-hour is half wasted, if we don't want to be caught all at once and have to run this through again, I'd suggest splitting up." It was not asked who would stay by Harry's side, they knew, with a nod and half reluctant shrug Lance and Pyro signaled their agreement. They knew Sabertooth would have their scents better then the others, the three of them more then any of the others had to split up. All too soon the two of them were alone.

"Thank you, it's not that I don't - that I want to… hide…." Harry hated that he couldn't seem to explain himself, and paused only when Remy settled a hand on his shoulder.

"I understand…. do not explain yourself, or your people, to me. Come, we must find a vantage point swiftly." Harry was left with little other choice but to follow Remy, he could have gone it alone – but he did not want to face any of the adult mutants one on one without a buffer. It was not that he did not trust them, though he certainly had reason not to. No, what he was…was afraid of what he would do to find out if what he suspected was true.

O.o.O.o.O.o.O

Harry bit his tongue when he saw what Remy meant by 'vantage point'. They were up a tree.

Quite….literally...

Half remembered lullabies of falling babies, kissing boys and girls, and too many jokes about cats landing on their feet seemed to scramble and buzz mockingly about his mind. Only then did he realize that he was still drained after pulling off what he had. Anyone else would be dead. He only half –wished he was.

Pulling at wild magic – the pure and raw magic of the world, was deadly. Not just for him, either. It messed with the moons pull on waves, it created snow, or too much sun. Though the later might have been welcome on the mountain top, it was far more likely that nature would do what it always had. With a force of will of its own, that will was wild magic. Harry felt an oncoming headache blossoming behind his eyes, and half-preyed that he had done no lasting harm to himself.

"How long do you think it'll take?" Harry asked, only slightly aware that Remy – for all that he had his eyes closed – was very much aware. It was only out of curtsy that Remy let him have a sense of being alone.

"To find the others…I would not think past a day." Harry nodded, though he felt like being anything but calm. There wasn't time to be anything else but level headed, to be anything else might get them caught. Harry didn't want to have to deal with either Magneto or Sabertooth (or, god forbid, Mystique) until he knew what he might do. He might lash out, might try to force answers to questions they did not no. There was no reason to suspect what he did, though he could not help himself.

"You seem glad for that news." Remy's words struck a cord, and Harry couldn't help but chuckle. It was bitter. Was he truly so broken to be happy to be on his own - with only Remy for company – it was apparently so…

"More time to think." Harry muttered, wondering if that was the whole truth of it even as he spoke. Did he really want to think of men long dead? Did he really want to think of 'maybes' and 'what ifs' with his mind as it was? The Brotherhood wasn't perfect – but it was human, family. They had each other, and that had seemed all that mattered –even to Harry - until now….

"I do not think that is what you need." Remy's words shattered his thoughts, Harry somewhat grateful, glanced to the long coated man who leaned against the trunk, his thighs straddling the branch. Harry was sitting, cat-like, as far as he could get without falling off.

Silver hair – so unlike his usual black – fell into his eyes. He wondered for the first time what his eyes looked like. Were they still his mothers eyes? There would be no way to tell until he had a mirror handy, that chance seemed too far away to be real. He seemed to far from the civilization he remembered with its gritty air and mocking-stone roads.

Plans within plans, law within law, plot within plot. It seemed to him that surrounded by those he wanted to protect – isolated from such things, that they had never been – that it had all been a dream, rather then a distant memory. Yet, like or not, he was to go back in the time it took the others to track them down. Part of him didn't want it to end.

At least with the Brotherhood, he knew that the plots and plans were to change things for the benefit of his make-shift family. It would end, though, if it was because of whatever plot Magneto might hold, or his own past catching up to him, he knew it had to end sometime.

Sooner, likely, then he would want. All the same, all of this, he knew then, was no better then hiding. What good would hiding do in the long run? Nothing at all would come of it. He had power – even if it wasn't the wild magic he used – he could change things for the Brotherhood. Make it better.

Make it work for them. He had that chance, he'd take it, even if it meant stepping into plain sight and becoming a heroic icon – a pawn – a mutant to fear, it was worth that much to keep the Brotherhood from being hunted down and slaughtered – murdered – in cold blood. He would not give those that were cowards – that hid rage behind "for the greater good" lies – to kill those he had come to care for. Not 'muggles', not even the magical world which he had loved in his youth, would he stand aside and let this go on.

"Tell me, Remy, what is it you think I need?" Harry asked slowly, coming closer to where Remy had settled, finding that within his own thoughts – cold and alien as they were with realization upon truth – he had a need for human contact. Touch was the most basic of human connection; Harry craved that touch, whatever it would lead to. Remy let him lean against him, offering silent strength and support, a sort of protection that Harry rarely let himself indulge in.

"More then anything…? Someone you can trust. Is it not what we all need most?" Remy wrapped his arms around Harry, cradling him from behind, his chin resting on top of Harry's bowed head. In the cover of trees, shadows were dark enough to rest within. Despite his headache and rambling thoughts – or because of these, Harry let his guard down, let himself slip into sleep, though comforted and knowing that he did not yet need to do what had to be done. For now he could let Remy take care of him, in that he knew Remy would never fail him.

O.o.O.o.O.o.O

'They let us say goodbye, at least...' Harry had only let himself glance over his shoulder once. They could not approach the military/science base from the air, so he had watched Mystique and Magneto herd all the Brotherhood – save Remy and himself – onto the small plane. Supposedly to take all of them back to 'camp' to wait out the outcome.

As for he, Remy, and Sabertooth, they were going back into the mountains, as that was where the base was supposed to be built into. Who had had the idiotic – or was it 'brilliant?' – notion to build a complex in the middle of no where up a mountain top, Harry did not know. What he did what to do to them was – to say the least –vindictive.

Harry saw Sabertooth motion him to circle around, with a somewhat reluctant nod, he did so. Out of the corner of his eye he thought he saw movement, but ignored it when he saw a sparrow flee its bush. From what he saw of the base, it was indeed built into the heart of a mountain, there was only this entrance fit to use.

The "ventilation" shafts were true shafts made by nature, used to vent heat – and air, now that man had found a way of using them. What trash could be burned, was, no matter what environmentalists said was good or bad to burn. Harry guessed that when you caught people of a minority and planned to use them, you did not start to care about what was good for the air.

What could not be burned, Harry guessed, was buried. Food and other necessities were likely brought in by plane once or twice a month, if the flight was missed; they likely had food to last a while. They were comfortably isolated, and thought they could not be touched.

Harry curled his lip in a snarl, the sharp edge of his teeth showing. 'They' were about to learn otherwise. He moved forward – not yet within sight of the two guards, but close enough to smell their aftershave – Harry crouched there, waiting to see if they would stay put or make rounds. There could be one security team doing double work – or two well rested teams doing their fair share of the work. With luck, and lack of "legal" funding – hopefully they cut their losses and had stationary guards relaying on the terrain to keep those caught unaware away.

Harry sat there long enough for his ass to get cold – though Remy and Sabertooth knew he had magic, it would do no good to swing around to their side ( no matter that was where he wanted to be) too early for them to have taken care of their guards. He wondered if he should kill them – or knock them unconscious – it might be kinder to kill outright, for the cold would claim them slowly, and if they survived they would lose fingers or toes – or perhaps a limb.

Harry flinched then, for all of a sudden he had heard something crackle and explode. Radios cackled to life, "alive" and "caught mutant" was partly overheard. It was too late to get rid of his guards, they would be missed. More important to him, Remy had set something to charge, moving silently, Harry approached where he had heard Remy. In the distance – he had let his guards live in favor of getting to his teammates side swifter - there was nothing. No tracks in the snow, nothing that showed a sign of being charged kinetically.

He had the sense of a trap, the awareness that something had gone wrong – before he heard the crack of a branch from a shift in weight, heard the soft "phtpmt" of a silencer, he couldn't move quick enough. He was hit in the neck, had time to touch the little glass and metal dart, felt the slickness of blood, before he felt snow and wondered how he had gotten to the ground without noticing.

O.o.O.o.O.o.O

"You alright?" It wasn't a voice Harry recognized that spoke gruffly – a near growl – next to him. He got the sense that the man – for it was masculine – was more then a little pissed off, though if it was because of Harry, or something else. Harry couldn't say. He only made something that sounded like an affirmative. He hoped.

"So how'd the likes of you get caught in this mess? You live in these mountains or somethin'?" Harry shook his head in a 'no', even though the gesture made him faintly sick. He hoped he hadn't puked, but his senses were blurred and he couldn't focus. He wouldn't be surprised if he had and didn't remember.

"No, trap – was planned. Remy?" Harry blinked; half hoping Remy or Sabertooth would be near by. Would hear him, would understand that he needed someone to remember and speak for him, because bit by bit he was coming back to himself – but it wasn't quick enough, wasn't nearly enough.

"Remy here too, huh…? I'd guess as much, we've never met, Cat, but I'm a friend of Remy. My name is Logan, you can call me Wolverine." Harry managed to get a look at the man who claimed to be a friend. He had less muscle mass then Sabertooth, was shorter too, but somehow where Sabertooth was uncontrolled danger and hard to predict, this man was instead steady – someone he could count on.

He was also half dressed with only something like pale blue boxers on. Harry got the sense that they didn't belong to Wolverine, though, because Harry was wearing a pair of the same shade that he didn't remember putting on the other day.

"Harry." He grunted the word, hoping it wasn't half as garbled as it sounded to his own ears. Wolverine laughed, it didn't hurt to hear that – though Harry was sure that if he heard something other then a low voice and rumbling laugh, he'd be screaming – if not outright crying for mercy.

"Yeah, I guess I am…" Logan muttered with a chuckle, his fingers twitched, like Harry remembered seeing someone do when they craved a cigar. He was a smoker, despite how healthy he was (and Harry was very well aware of how healthy that was, seeing as they weren't dressed overmuch) it was odd, because it somehow suited Logan.

"No, I'm Harry." He insisted, wanting more then anything to be understood, even if it was by a stranger. Maybe this man was the one they'd been sent after, if so the mission was half over. He only had to get them out. Harry muddled though his magic, and willed to be taken away, with Logan – with anyone that might be missed – and then he choked. He couldn't breathe, his skin was sticky with sweat and maybe blood. He couldn't touch his magic, and didn't bother to call it back when it stirred but did not reach for him as he had willed. Something was wrong.

"Take it easy, they've got something – new tech, I think – that stops our very cells from doing what came naturally before." There was anger in his voice, and Harry felt himself echo it. It became bitter, when he remembered that magic may as well be a mutation – and the magical world had thought itself safe from 'muggles' and mutants both. If they had the sort of technology Logan claimed, if this was a result of machines, and not of his own doing -or an aftereffect of the drugs- well, safe was a relative term.

It was almost enough to make him laugh, albeit, with hysteria. Next to him, Logan took a deep breath, snarling in the next moment. Harry learned why quick enough. In front of him was someone all too fond of white, they stood as proud as a pureblood would, in a white lab coat. Harry thought a black cloak and a white mask might have suited him better.

"Well, well, now that you've had a chance to meet, its time to have some fun. Or, rather, fun for me, I'm afraid it might be somewhat…painful, for you." Logan growled, and lunged forward, he need not have bothered, the man did not so much as flinch neither the bars did not so much a lean. Still, it was an intimating sight. White coat only smirked, it was sadist – Harry had a feeling things, as bad as they were before, were about to get worse. A needle the height of a forearm only reinforced the thought.

O.o.O.o.O.o.O

Note; Oh, but this will be interesting….. by-the-by, somewhat post-humorously, I've found why it is that when certain authors change the name of certain characters, and then refer to that character as that name while in third person (something that drove me nuts when I was a reader)…I now have over much sympathy for this change in the favor of the writer, it's very hard to remember that though you and the readers are in on "the secret" the characters are not supposed to slip up and call the "new-guy" by his first name.

So, in short, I thank again all of whom have calmly reminded me of this slip-of-name, while patiently pointing out where it was I "oopsyid" at. So, in sort, please be kind and in the future point out the name-slip with a sample of the actual dialogue. Thanks very much! I'm sure others would appreciate the same courtesy.

P.S.…heh, so…what do you think the Winged Ones are? There are, after all a whole host of "winged" myths among them - wyvern, gryphon, sphinx, fairy, dragon, harpies, sirens, furies, or a winged-cat? What of the Riddlers? Fear not though, I have 'in mind' what they are, although I'm willing to change it to something exotic if it's favored in particular… so, give me what and give me why, this is your last chance to do so before they…well, that would be telling, wouldn't it?