Cat, Rat, and Dog

By Matelia-legwll

A/N: Last time, Remus entertained us all with the Easter Prank:

Professor McGonagall's thin lips twitched for a moment as she glanced at Filch. No, beyond Filch. "Isn't that right, Peeves?" she asked mildly. Filch's eyes widened as Peeves blew a raspberry in his ear, and he spun around, a clawed hand reaching for the poltergeist he would never catch.

As we laughed, Professor McGonagall glided back to the staff table, and I looked at my three best friends. "I told you, Mr. Prongs," I had to say. "'D' stands for Detention."

After sparing a laugh for my little joke, we layered our hands on top of one another and all recited, "Mischief managed."

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE: Lily

Well, that was one side of McGonagall that I hope to never experience again. That was just plain odd. I hadn't remembered that McGonagall was a cat Animagus. Although I probably should. I've had enough time. And that's about all I can say about that unsettling experience. Alright, so I will admit it. The prank was . . . wonderfully executed. And brilliant. And hilariously funny.

Now that I've gotten that off of my chest, I can go back to wondering why I am being so obsessive about the little string hanging off of Remus's sweater. I seem to have noticed textures today for the very first time. Argh! I can't keep my eyes off of the stupid little thing. It's just dangling there at his side. I want to touch it.

I sighed. I was whining inside my own head. And it was annoying me. And yet, I kept on doing it.

Honestly, I suppose it was just something to concentrate on, to make myself ignore the strong arms wrapped around me carrying me up to the Common Room. James and Sirius were taking turns telling various jokes, and long stories, seeing which of them could make Peter laugh the hardest.

Remus was walking slightly in front of the other three, leading the way, with that annoying string dangling directly in front of me. We had just passed through a short-cut, when Remus abruptly stopped, causing the other three boys to halt also.

"Did you know?" started Remus. I dimly recalled that James and Sirius had been on a 'did you know' track for the last few minutes.

"What?" said the other boys eagerly.

"An evil laugh is contagious," he announced.

"Really?" said Peter, astonished.

Remus nodded importantly. "It's why you'll never hear of You-Know-Who laughing an evil maniacal laugh around his followers. It's much too irritating when all the Death Eaters try to copy it."

Everyone burst out laughing at this thought. Then, typically, Black and Potter decided to outdo each other's evil laugh. I rolled my eyes. Boys.

This train of jokes and laughter followed us to the seventh floor, through the Fat Lady, and into the crowded Common Room.

Once inside, the four boys seemed to separate and then come back together. Peter went up to the dorms and came back with a piece of wood and his wand. He curled up in a corner to work with the Transfiguration homework he was assigned during our last class. Remus walked over to where he must have left one of his books earlier, for he picked up a book and sat down in an armchair close by Peter. Jam—Potter, who had allowed me to escape from his grasp after we climbed through the portrait hole, was chatting with Beth about Quidditch strategies as they maneuvered over to the corner. Sirius, who had been silently drifting alongside Potter, suddenly noticed Peter, and decided to walk ahead to lean over Peter's shoulder and watch him fidget.

As Peter practiced his spell, Sirius started to correct his technique. "No, not like that, Wormy. You've got to twist it just slightly, from the elbow."

"I know what I did wrong, Padfoot," started Peter defensively. "You don't need to point it out."

"If you know what you're doing wrong, how come you aren't fixing it?" asked Sirius, calculatingly.

"Because I have all the blank holiday to get it right, and I like to procrastinate," insisted Pettigrew hotly.

I blatantly stared. Had he actually said the word 'blank'? Who does that? Well, apparently Peter, but still.

Sirius laughed loudly, then turned away, still smirking. "Oh, and you should work on your pronunciation too," he added over his shoulder.

Peter glared at him, and then . . . there isn't any other word for it . . . he squeaked angrily.

"Nice diction, Wormtail," was Sirius's parting shot.

Peter harrumphed loudly, and pointedly turned back to the block of wood.

Sensing the end of the conversation there, I turned, wondering why Potter hadn't caught up yet.

Ah, Beth had been stopped by Emmeline and Ruby, and Ruby was engaging Beth in a convoluted conversation. And Potter obviously still wanted to talk to Beth about something, for he was tapping his foot impatiently.

I heard Ruby chattering as I drifted closer. "And then, did you see? Right when all the girls were screaming about the Dog-bomb, or whatever you call it—"

"Dungbomb," muttered Potter irritably.

"Yes, that. But, Beth, you had to have seen. Oh it was wonderful!" Ruby sighed dramatically.

"What was I supposed to have seen?" asked Beth in confusion.

"Oh, Bethie! He, he, he looked at me!" Ruby pretended to swoon, snapping her head back up at Beth's next question.

"Who?"

"Who? Who?" repeated Ruby in disbelief. "Haven't you been listening to me? I've been going on about him for weeks and weeks!"

"Actually, just since yesterday," corrected Emmeline with an indulgent smile.

"Oh, but yesterday was wonderful, Emmy! He, oh Beth, he, he bumped me." Ruby gave a little sigh, then said proudly, "Bumped into me in the corridor on purpose. Dear boy! Of course everyone knows that he likes me already. He just doesn't have the courage yet to ask me to Hogsmeade."

Beth rolled her eyes. "You still haven't given me a name to work with, Ruby."

Ruby seemed astounded. "I haven't? What is wrong with me? Oh, I'm such a bad friend. No wonder Lily walked away from me on her last night at Hogwarts."

I felt the aggravation boil up inside me, and tried to calm myself down by reminding myself that I was currently a cat, and in no position to comfort or scream at Ruby, no matter how I felt about it. Besides Emmeline and Beth were there to correct her.

I came closer and found myself annoyingly close to Potter. When he saw me there, his face lit up and he turned and crouched next to me, automatically stroking my fur.

He murmured to me as both Emmy and Beth worked on calming Ruby's histrionics. "Here you are, Lils. Are you enjoying yourself? I'm not. Well, I wasn't, anyway. Not since Dunstan here got pulled into the Jones web of boys. I need to talk with her. How can anyone expect a Seeker to catch a Snitch if their conversation is getting interrupted exactly when her captain is supposed to be informing her of when practices are for after the holidays?"

Jam—Potter continued to mutter, more to himself than to me anyway, but I was distracted by a strange clicking noise coming from where Emmeline was sitting. What was that? I pulled away from Potter to investigate.

I crouched down, slinking forward slowly, ready to pounce.

Is the entire world set up specifically for my destruction? Was there any curiosities that I could just leave alone? It was just like the prank. I had set out this morning to stay the whole day outside but when the time approached for the Easter feast, not even two field mice and a robin could hold my attention. And stop jumping to that conclusion, I was just observing the other animals from behind a hedge. Even so, I couldn't resist going back to the Great Hall to find out how the prank turned out. I was too curious.

My eyes were still fixed upon the object that had drawn my inquisitive attention. Yarn. A huge basket full of yarn. Yarn that was slowly moving. Turning away from me. I followed the lengthy string with my eyes, finally resting on the knitting needles in Emmeline's hands. I felt the desire tear through my small body, making me shiver in anticipation. I wanted that string. I wanted that whole basket of yarn to overturn, the delightful colors spilling everywhere.

I stole closer to the basket of yarn. I would reach out my paw and hit it, and then the yarn would run away, and I would chase it. I probably had a feverish light to my eyes as I visualized this happening.

This was going to be so much fun!

I skulked around an armchair that was in the way of my direct route to the yarn and paused, the yarn out of my sight for a moment. What was I thinking?

Just because I am currently a cat doesn't mean I have to chase the yarn. I could fight my nature, you know. I had been able to resist the urge to chase around the rabbits earlier. Perhaps I could do the same now. My tail lashed indecisively as I once more focused in on the conversation. I needed a distraction, and quickly.

"And then, just as—Emmy," whined Ruby. "Do you have to make that bothersome noise? Can't you think of anything else to do with your hands?"

"No," said Emmeline simply. "Besides, I need to finish this before my sister's birthday."

"What are you making?" asked Potter. Somehow I could detect both hesitancy and curiosity in his question.

"It's a scarf. For next winter," replied Emmeline.

Potter sighed. I glanced back at him and saw to my puzzlement an expression of relief. What in the world? Oh well. It doesn't matter. It's just Potter.

I grinned, feeling pleased with myself. I had just called him Potter three—no, four times now without slipping up. I was one step closer to turning back into the same Lily I was four days ago. Now if only I could distract myself so fully from the yarn.

No matter what I tried, it filled my mind with a startlingly obsessive nature. Yarn. All that lovely yarn. Just waiting to spill over the Common Room, and then to be chased down by me.

"PRONGS!" The shout sounded from the stairs. Sirius. Of course. Thank you Sirius.

I really should go back to calling him Black. But then again he is the one that will help me out of this scrape Pettigrew somehow managed to get me into. That reminds me, I need to think up a proper torment to exact my revenge from little Peter.

Potter turned and shouted back, "WHAT?"

"C'MERE!"

"NO!" Potter grinned.

"Oh, for the love of Merlin," muttered a nearby fourth year, plugging her ears.

"PRONGS!" Sirius sounded aggravated.

After a short pause, "PADFOOT!" Potter was still grinning idiotically.

"WHAT?"

"C'MERE!"

Well this conversation wasn't going anywhere soon. The two had a reputation for conducting entire conversations this way, just for the attention and noise it brought into the lives of the Marauders. Luckily for me, I hadn't been subjected to one of these chats recently. I guess I couldn't say that anymore.

"WHY?"

"SO WE CAN STOP SHOUTING ACROSS THE COMMON ROOM!"

Wow. I never thought I'd hear James Potter stop anything that drew attention and popularity. Especially something as innocent as this. The apocalypse has already begun.

I heard the tromping of feet coming down the stairs of the boys dormitories, and watched as a pouting Sirius approached Potter and crossed his arms when he got close enough to carry on a decent conversation.

"Now, what was that all about?" asked Jam—Potter in a polite tone.

Rats. I slipped up. I shook my head and focused. This conversation had better be a good distraction.

"Where do you keep your quill, Prongs?"

"My quill?" repeated Potter, astonished.

"Yes, your quill, Prongs. Where?" Sirius raised his eyebrows.

"My quill?" repeated Jam—Potter again.

"Yes, you know. The big red feathery one? The one you use to write all your love—" Sirius said impatiently.

"Alright already!" interrupted James. "Let me think. It isn't every day that Mr. Padfoot asks a quill of Mr. Prongs."

"Yes, well, Mr. Padfoot would like to write a shopping list," smirked Sirius.

"With Mr. Prongs's special quill?" questioned Potter. "Try harder, Mr. Padfoot."

"Fine." Sirius lowered his voice and I crept nearer to hear. "Mr. Padfoot is trying to figure out a new aid. Like the—erm—History of Magic essay."

"What would this one be about?" Potter's eyes had lit up in excitement.

"Hogsmeade, of course," said Sirius arrogantly.

"Of course," smirked Potter.

"Thanks, Prongs." Sirius strode off, and was at the stairs before he turned around. "Where did you say that quill was?"

Pot—Prongs raised one eyebrow. "Mr. Prongs didn't say."

Hold up. Hang on.

What in the world did I call him?

Prongs?

Okay, sorry, but that is so entirely much worse than James. At least James is his first name and I can sort of get away with calling him that, as long as I remember to tack on his surname, but Prongs? His nickname? What am I doing to myself?

I turned away from Sirius's conversation with Potter in disgust, only to have my eyes land on the tempting basket of yarn.

This time I lost all hold on my tenuous threads of control and dashed across the room to the basket. I needed something to release my frustrations. The yarn was there calling me to hit it around the Common Room. It all worked out.

I yowled happily as I sent a paw to swipe at the glittering golden yarn that was a ball towards the top. Emmeline looked at me with horror in her face, which made me feel quite guilty for a moment, but then the ball of yarn took away my attention once again. I chased after it, not being able to stop myself, nor finding the ability to even want to stop myself.

I darted and weaved, chasing that elusive ball of gold just like a Seeker would search out a sighted Snitch in Quidditch. Ignoring the cries of the people around me, I made myself leap, twist and turn with increasing accuracy, following the trail of gold singlemindedly until the ball rolled right into an outstretched hand. I crashed into the owner's legs before straightening and evaluating my situation.

My eyes followed the hand up the all-too-familiar arm, to his shoulder, neck, and finally his face, confirming my worst fear. James Potter's twinkling brownish eyes could give Dumbledore's piercing stare a run for its money. He tossed the depleted yarn ball once into the air, catching it absentmindedly, and then beginning to wrap the yarn string once again around the ball.

"So sorry about that, Emmeline. Lils is still just a kitten and Evans probably hasn't taught her any better yet," James apologized as he walked around, tucking away more of the yarn strand with every step. I felt vaguely shocked and offended by his apology.

My eyes were drawn to the sparkling strand of gold that constantly caught the light as James rolled it into the ball. My paw outstretched, I tried to reach the dangling yarn. A little bit lower. . . just a bit more. . . almost gotcha. . . I glared up at Potter. You must be joking.

"No, no, Lils," scolded James gently. "That's not a good idea. You have to ask permission before you play with someone's yarn."

I snorted in surprise. Potter scolding me on asking permission before I play with all that tempting yarn? Potter should learn to take his own advice. Potter, the hypocritical arrogant toe-rag. I'm so glad that that is the only side that Lily was ever exposed to. She might find herself in danger of developing feelings for a kind, considerate, humorous boy named James, but never for Potter. And that would most certainly not be happening any time soon, if I know anything about myself.

And yes, I just talked about myself in the third person. It makes slightly more sense that way. If the Marauders can talk in third person, so can I.

Marauders, right. I was in the midst of my very first lecture from Potter on responsibility of all things, and I was busy thinking about how I was referring to myself. He must not be a very good disciplinarian. Or maybe I'm so much off my rocker that I can't focus on anything ever again. I wish this didn't happen in my O.W.L. year. Who knows what could lie in store for me if I could regain my sanity again. I could have a brilliant career, you know. Invent a cure for lycanthropy or something.

Ooh, pretty colours. I swear that gold thread has some kind of sparkling metal woven into it to make it as gleaming as it was.

Maybe I could make a dash at the other balls of yarn without anyone noticing or blocking me. I looked around. Or maybe not. I ducked my head in embarrassment. Loads of people were glaring at me. Loads whom I had previously considered the nicest of friends. Lovely. Just lovely. I noticed for the first time the unnatural almost-silence that had fallen over the Common Room as everyone had halted their conversations under the rampage of the twisted golden yarn.

I'd made enemies because I couldn't control the kitten inside of me that absolutely needed to bat around a ball of yarn. Nice. I just love to make enemies, I huffed as I trailed after James. Like I needed any more of that. What with Muggles like my sister that hated that I was a witch and purebloods like Avery and Mulciber despising me for being Muggleborn, I felt sympathy for those like myself trapped between two worlds, despised by both, accepted by neither.

I made another try to get at the yarn that James was still wrapping together, pawing the air as high as I could reach.

"Adorable, Lils. Just adorable," said Sirius sarcastically from where he stood.

Jam—Potter and I both turned to examine him, and Potter said, amusement lacing his tone, "How in the world did she wrap it round you five times?"

"Well after the first time, there wasn't much I could honestly do," replied Sirius scathingly. "My feet were tied."

"Are you sure it was only your feet, Padfoot?" asked Peter insolently from the table.

"I'm sure you were a bit tongue tied as well, Wormtail. I didn't hear you piping up," retorted Sirius.

"Tongue tied," repeated Remus, blinking. "I wonder. . . ." He trailed off as he stared into the flames of the Common Room fire with a thoughtful look upon his face.

"Blimey, but she's fast," commented Ruby, who had only had her feet tied to the chair she sat on. "As fast as, as, as him," she sighed, painting a dreamy expression on her face.

"Is he a Quidditch player?" asked Beth, as chatter broke out again in the Common Room. "Is that why you think I should know him?"

I moaned. If I was human, my face would be clashing with my hair. Never before had I incited such animosity that caused the Gryffindor Common Room to go nearly silent when all four Marauders were still inhabiting it. The rush of noise as everyone resumed their conversation made the silence seem even more stifling. It took Jam—Potter a full seven minutes, just wrapping the string round and round before he had found where the end had snagged. I whimpered. I just had to go and get it caught under Emmeline's basket, didn't I?

"Sorry again, Emmeline. I'll try to keep better tabs on her next time," apologized James.

I couldn't believe my ears. Not only had James Potter apologized, but twice over the same incident? I shook my head and stared at him in disbelief. Sure, the first time he had made it seem like it was my fault for not training my cat on how in the world to avoid getting tempted by balls of yarn, but a second apology? That took all the blame onto his own shoulders? When he was honestly distracted by his conversation with Sirius?

No ruddy way. I must have misheard him. Or maybe he's trying to suck up to Emmeline. But why? She would have forgiven him with the first apology. All of us knew that, including James.

"Oh, don't worry about it Potter," said Emmy dismissively. "All kittens chase balls of yarn."

Yeah! So there! I stuck my tongue out at him, then noticed that my paws could use a little cleaning. I immediately started licking them down, cleaning the fur with my rough tongue, taking advantage of the fact that it was sticking out of my mouth.

"I've got a cat myself," continued Emmeline. "Do you want to take one of the extra yarn rolls to let her play with it in the dormitories?"

I snapped my head up at the suggestion. Please say yes. Please say yes. PLEASE say YES!

Prongs, darn it all, you had better ruddy say yes already!

Merlin's beard. I called him by his nickname again. I definitely need to distance myself from these contagious Marauders.

Pro—Jam—Potter. . . Ah, what the newt! James nodded slowly and said, "If you don't mind, Emmeline, I'd like to take you up on that offer."

Flowery language? Why in the world is he using roundabout language to get what he wants? He's always been very straightforward. At least to me.

'Go out with me, Evans.' 'Go on, go out with me.' Like it was a dare. Like I didn't know he only said that kind of stuff to get under Severus's skin.

Okay, now that I think about it, it was a roundabout way of getting what he wanted.

"Here you go," Emmeline's voice intruded on my thoughts, and my attention snapped to the ball of red yarn that was spinning through the air.

Red. A beautiful scarlet colour. Pretty. I watched as James, annoyingly without any effort, caught the ball. I pouted slightly at the display of his easy coordination.

"C'mon Lils," he murmured to me, noticing my stare. "Let's go play with the yarn ball."

I felt my feet start to move on their own. No. No, feet. You cannot simply follow Potter anywhere and everywhere. Remember who you are! Aw, c'mon, at least go slower. Reluctantly, that's the word. It's such a pretty, shiny, shimmering red, though. I get to play with Gryffindor coloured balls of yarn. Surely that somehow mattered.

This is definitely a woe of being a cat. My second woe. My weakness in the area of all things yarn and stringy. I just couldn't ignore it.

I wonder why that is.

No, no distractions. Not now. C'mon. I'm not supposed to be distracting myself from what my body is doing of its own volition. Maybe if the yarn was green or blue, I'd be able to resist it.

Stupid irresistible compelling Gryffindor coloured yarn. Hang on a second. Remus's sweater is brown. Argh! I'm a pushover for red and gold and brown. When will this torture of being a cat end? I've got to convince Sirius to turn me back early. Before I fall any further into the instincts of a cat.

Yarn! Come back here!

Ugh. I felt disgusted with myself. I am a prefect. A perfect prefect. Not one that can be swayed by an ounce of yarn, for I have more than an ounce of sense.

Ooh, pretty. . . .

Alright. Fine. Compromise.

One hour spent gleefully chasing that red yarn down and then naptime. That sounds good. There was a thin red strand hanging off of the yarn ball that I fixed my eyes upon. I can stick to that, I decided as I crouched, my tail lashing the air behind me. And then I pounced.

Peter's List

Check. Item one: Hide the map.

Check. Item two: Tell Sirius.

Check. Item three: Laugh off any weird questions.

Item four: But don't laugh when an ironic situation comes up.

Check. Item five: Take a deep breath if the subject comes up.

Check. Item six: Don't hyperventilate when others are discussing cats or Evans.

Item seven: Just stop reminding myself that the cat is Evans.

Item eight: Change the subject if it is hitting too close to home.

Item nine: Don't look suspicious.

Item ten: Don't tell anyone the real reason for this list.

Item eleven: Don't show fear of the cat.

Item twelve: Do be very, very careful around Moony.

Check. Item thirteen: Don't talk or have any conversation with Dumbledore.

Check. Item fourteen: In fact, avoid Dumbledore completely.

Item fifteen: Never look at Evans directly in case her glare makes you feel guilty.

Item sixteen: Make sure not to call Evans "Evans" around anyone who is not Evans.

Item seventeen: Don't let James figure out the cat is Lily.

Check. Item eighteen: Steal Remus's chocolate.

IMPORTANT EDIT: I have gone back and changed the character previously referred to as Mary Macdonald to the character name of Ruby Jones. I'm going to try to make this fit as real as possible and I don't want to set up a situation that wouldn't happen. Also, I got really tired of an out-of-character Mary.

A/N: Well, I had to get this chapter up for my one-year anniversary with fanfiction(dot)net. I won't promise anything because University is still hectic, but I'll try my hardest to keep going in a timely manner.

Wow. This chapter is very nearly as long as the previous one. And, just so that you know, I have edited and added some Chapter titles in the pull-down chapter search thingie. Just to help keep track of what's going on in that chapter. Well, what do you think about this chapter? What's your favorite part so far? Any good dialogue or good rants? Any suggestions? I'll take them into consideration, I promise. Any questions for me?

Can you think of anything else to add to Peter's list? Tell me in a review or PM, and I'll find a way to use it. My only request be that the list consist of rather obvious or pathetic notions, and that it would be absolutely hilarious to make Peter follow through on. Keep them coming! Please!

I'm trusting you, my lurking reader, to step it up and send me a little note. I'm trusting all my stalwarts to keep up the excellent reviews. Keep reviewing, please. I promise I'll respond to all reviews. Even to anonymous reviewers, as long as you include an email address. Just review! I need the feedback, and it makes my day, and allows me to make your day when I reply.

Oh, and I've been updating my profile avatar image to correspond with something in each of these chapters. Go ahead and visit my profile, especially if you are waiting for the next chapter. I try to post the next picture during my editing stint. It's a tiny insight to what I'm planning in the next chapter.

My friend Umi Pryde and I have been working on a set of hilarious mishaps that might or might not have happened in the HP World. Check it out. It's called Short Sorcerer Scenes. It is under her profile, or you can check it out from my favorite stories on my profile. You'll find scenes with the Marauders, Harry, Luna, Snape, Moody, McGonagall, Draco, Hermione, Ron, Uncle Vernon, Hagrid, Fred and George, and Flitwick, among others. Feel free to suggest other scenes, too.

Thank you for reading!