Limited Edition Harry-Cat

After sending his letters off, Severus stops at the lavatory to relieve himself. Upon opening the door to leave, he finds a distinctly distraught house-elf wringing the hem of its pillowcase kirtle. Though he has a sense of what has upset the creature, there still remains a twisted hope that he is wrong. What he wouldn’t give to be wrong this once!

“What is the matter, Minsc?” Now Schrodinger’s theoretical box has been opened.

“Something is being in the kitchen, Master Snape, sir,” the elf wails as large tears begin to drip from its bulbous eyes. “Minsc and the others can’t be doing anything!”

The migraine wakes up with a raucous cheer of celebration. The aggrieved potions master pinches the bridge of his nose and contemplates becoming a religious man. Mayhaps then he will have some peace and quiet. A resounding crash from downstairs reminds him that the present requires his immediate attention.

Brushing past the wailing house-elf, he stalks down to the kitchen. As he reaches the door, it swings open and a panicked elf with its head stuck in a large bag of confectioner’s sugar races out. Several more tumble after it as it strews white power everywhere in its attempts to free itself. Inside he can hear more elves crying out for ‘something’ to stop. The man has a good idea of what that something is, too.

A strained growl trickles past his thin lips as he throws the door open and takes measure of the full magnitude of destruction and chaos within. Copper pots and pans lie scattered on the floor. White flour covers every surface, several inches thick in some places. Sticky puddles of various sauces and syrups decorate the floor and counters—and many of the elves as well. Broken crockery testifies to the passag a s a singularly determined creature.

Severus finds said creature on top of the icebox in the process of upending his last box of Darjeeling tea. Harry-cat ignores the frantic shrieks of the house-elves to stop and paws at a jar, which the man knows to contain peanut butter cookies, his favorite cookies.

“Prr,” Harry-cat says as he manages to pry it open.

“You!” Severus shouts as he strides through the mess and elves, which quickly part to allow him passage. The cat-boy stops, one hand in the jar, and smiles down at the man from his precarious position. He does not appear to find anything amiss. White flour dusts his dark hair and delicate nose and chin.

“Mrr.” He fishes out a cookie and takes a cheerful bite. Absently he licks the crumbs from the corners of his mouth.

“Get down this instant, you little cretin!”

Severus realizes his mistake when the cat-child’s tail stiffens and his body tenses. With a happy mew the creature launches himself from the top of the icebox. Now, all physical resemblance to a cat aside, the human body is of such a mass and proportion as to make falling from a distance not a recommended idea. With in in mind Severus throws himself forward to arrest the cat-boy’s imminent landing upon the floor. He soon finds himself prostrate upon his back with a heavy weight mewling softly against his chest and the wind knocked out of him. Anxiously Harry-cat nips his face and ears, all the while making soft noises of concern.

A moment of insanity descends upon him as he finds himself unable to order his body to depose the creature from atop of him. Now he cannot even use the excuse of being winded from the fall, as his breathing returns to normal. Yet, he still does not move. Manfully he begins to justify this unwillingness to remove the cat-boy. The reasons disintegrate when a warm, sandpapery tongue briefly flicks across the whorls of his sensitive ears.

“Off! Get off!” Severus yells, ignoring the panic spiking his voice. This whole situation breathes of unreality. Breathing harshly he sits up, causing the cat-child to tumble into his lap; Harry-cat doesn’t seem adverse to this position, either. Absently the potions master rubs his molested ear. He can still feel the silkily abrasive texture of the creature’s pointed pink tongue. Said tongue plays coltishly across the creature’s blushing lips. An inexplicably tightening of the man’s entire body sets off the panic alarms again.

Feeling put out and damning the capriciousness of his own body, Severus stands up and growls menacingly. House-elves scatter with supersonic alacrity. Harry-cat investigates the spilled tea upon the floor. He sniffs inquisitively and, with a look of comical astonishment, sneezes loudly. The tea rises in a loose cloud and settles on him. The potions master is almost startled into a laugh—‘almost’ being the key word. Instead he frowns severely.

“Mrr,” the cat-child grouses shaking his head.

“What did you think you were doing?” Green eyes turnregaregard him earnestly.

“Mrr.” A delicate rumbling originating from the creature’s stomach answers his question.

“You’re hungry?” Harry-cat nods enthusiastically. Deciding to put aside the matter of the creature’s inexplicable escape, he summons one of the flighty elves. He grabs the cat-boy’s slender arm and drags him to the dinning room. It is time to see if the thing has any table etiquette.

* * *

Cold roast beef and milk seem to be to Harry-cat’s satisfaction. He shows no signs, however, of having any clue as to how to use dinning utensils. Yet he is quite a fastidious eater and, having been cleaned with a simple spell, he is immaculate. He makes a point of licking clean each finger after every bite.

Severus finds this most distracting, though he tells himself he is distracted by revulsion, that the tingle in his stomach is disgust. A particularly malicious corner of his mind begins to taunt him with the truth of the sensation.

Glaring at the remains of his roast beef sandwich, he pushes the chair back and stands up. Harry-cat, in the process of nibbling upon a bread roll, looks at him curiously.

“Come here,” the man commands tersely. Harry-cat stuffs the rest of the roll in his mouth, cheeks bulging like a chipmunk’s, and gracefully slips from the chair to pad around the table to the potions master’s side. Inquiringly he cocks his head, ears twitching inquisitively and tail slowly lashing the air.

“Don’ink ink about getting comfortable here,” Severus snarls. “I’m sending you back as soon as BioSorce sends a reply.”

“Meow!” Harry-cat cries in alarm.

“You are a menace and an unwanted nuisance and the sooner you’re gone the better.” The cat-boy’s ears flatten against his skull and he glares sullenly at the towering man. “I have no clue how you managed to escape my spells, but if you dare destroy any more of my property, I will cast something more permanent.”


He doesn’t comprehend the mechanics of the creature’s mind, but he does know that Harry-cat understands him. The reactions to his words, despite the creature’s obstinate disregard, proves this to be true. For a moment the fact that such a creation could be sanctioned for retail sale disturbs him. It boarders on slavery, but then, he admits, so does the servitude of house-elves and other such cognitive creatures.

Unwilling to think upon the moral and social ramifications of such practices, he returns to the most important—in his mind—matter at hand: how to get rid of the annoyingly saccharine Harry-cat.

With a sniff of disdain and affront, Harry-cat pads away without a backwards glance. Before Severus can think to intercept the precocious creature a house-elf pops in holding a letter. He grabs the letter with such swiftness that the elf shrieks and faints dead away in fright.

Disappointment—and relief?—immediately assailm. Tm. The letter is not, indeed, from Albus, but instead from BioSorce. The company’s glitterino sitting on cou couch. If only his hands would stop itching to stroke the mess of black hair on Harry-cat’s head.

Damn it all!

* * *5§ ä" @H M“ Amazedm
.@A/N: I deserve to be stoned to death for posting this so late but my life has been nuts in the past three weeks. First that damn blackout deleted all the work I did and that bitch hurricane Isabel knocked the power out and know I’m in school up to my ears in homework! I’m soooooooooooooooo sorry people but as they say, better late than never. : )


Oh and the lyrics used at the bottom part of this chapter is Lone star’s “Amazed”

Chapter 20

Legolas ran swiftly through the forest as visions of what he would find flooded his mind. Before he realized it the blond prince reached the wooden tree house. He looked up and saw the faint glow of the candlelight illuminate the small timber playhouse. A shadow of an elf interrupted the flow of the candlelight as it passed on the wall like ghost gliding through an empty hall.

The silhouette obviously belonged to Elladan but when another shadow graced the wall Legolas began to climb up to see what was with his love. It was not another elf, or any creature that had a mind of it’s own. It was a small inanimate object. Legolas recognized it to be the small dagger that Elrond required both of the twins to carry around with them at all times. Legolas feared that the small blade would be the tool that was to take away his lovers life.

He reached the tree house in record time. The first thing he saw was Elladan sitting cross-legged on the floor with a blanket covering his legs and his lap. His head was tilted down so that his long flowing hair hid most of his face. The gray-eyed beauty did not seem surprised as Legolas stepped into the wooden cavern. “So you came to say goodbye?” Elladan asked not trusting himself to look into Legolas’ hypnotizing eyes.
golagolas wanted to tell him that he was not leaving but everything seemed so animated. The flickering of the flame made everything tremble on the walls with deep contrast. It illuminated Elladan’s face with divisions of light and dark and it made the dark-haired elf seem dangerous,

Elladan laughed bitterly as he twirled the knife around in one hand. “It is nny nny thing, love. At times you feel as if you are on top of the world and nothing can change the way you feel. While other times you just want to stick a knife into you heart and slowly pull it out again.”

Legolas refused to look at anything else besides the knife. He was ready to lung at the emotionally disturbed adolescent if anything were to go astray.

“It’s also very amusing to think that I almost gave my soul to you. I wonder if I did lay with you last night would you have stayed?” For the first time Elladan and Legolas met each other’s eyes. Legolas couldn’t maintain the stare so he looked away “I didn’t think so,”

“Elladan, you don’t understand,” Legolas began but he was cut off.

“WHAT IS THERE NOT TO UNDERSTAND!” Elladan yelled, “You are leaving in the morning to go back to realm of the woodland elves,”

“No,” Legolas said simply “I’m not,”

“What lies are you telling me now? Are you trying to make me believe that you would stay with me in Imladris while you let your only chance to be treated as royalty ride off into the distant lands? Well, Legolas?”

“Yes and no,” Legolas crawled the small distance to sit directly in front of the upset elf. “I made a deal with the King of Mirkwood. I told both him and my father that I would go with them and accept the title of Prince of Mirkwood only if I was to stay here until the day I reach my majority.”
ladaladan was quiet for a while but he soon found the words he needed to say. “But what will happen to us in 250 years. We cannot continue an affair when we know the exact date it will end.” Elladan voice held no anger, instead it was laced with the hurt and the pain that he had been bottling up deep inside of him.

Tears rose to Legolas’s eyes but he refused to let them fall. Was this hoo sitting on cou couch. If only his hands would stop itching to stroke the mess of black hair on Harry-cat’s head.

Damn it all!

* * *