AvatarCat09: Hey there, everyone! Welcome to the Nightfang series! And welcome to Nightfang Potter and the Elixir Stone. I've tried to upload the first chapter of Nightfang, but Microsoft Word always canceled it out, but this time, it'll go differently.
Katara: And I'm here to help him out. Plus, the cats on here can get pregnant for nine moons like a human can instead of two moons. One more thing: The cats on here have the same last names as the humans on Harry Potter, except they use their last names less than usual.
Disclaimer: I own none. I don't even own a few cats on here because they were from a deleted story called Nightpaw and the Claw Sharpening Stone. If anyone has something to complain about my story, e-mail me sometime.
AvatarCat09: I've decided to skip the conversation of the Dursleys because they are the lamest and stupidest people on Harry Potter. And I usually don't say the word "lame."
AvatarCat09 and Katara: Enjoy!
The Cat Who Lived
The house cats of the scientist Daniel Dursley were proud to say that they were perfectly normal house cats. They were the last cats in Alaska you would see that are involved in strange things because they thought that kind of stuff was too childish.
Bristle Dursley always went to work with Daniel to one of his scientist meetings. He was a big round bristle-furred gray tom with a squashed face and yellow eyes. Tulip Dursley, his mate, was also gray and flat-faced, but she was skinny and had large yellow eyes, which were useful when it came to spying on the other cats next door. And their kitten, Tubby, was fat, yellow-eyed, and gray also. In their opinion, there was no finer kitten that they could ask for.
They had everything that they could want, but they, in their own opinion again, had a terrible secret. And they feared that some cat or human will find it out. If someone found out about the cats of David Potter, they just couldn't bear to think about it.
Lilypelt was Tulip's sister, but they haven't met for years because Lilypelt became a wildcat. Because of that, Tulip always acted as if she were the only kitten in their litter because her sister and her no-good stray mate were as "unhousecattish" as any cat can be. They also thought that all cats should be rounded up and sent to all animal shelters and sent to homes in all the houses of America.
They also shuddered to think about what would happen if the Potter cats turned up at their street. They knew that those two strays had a kitten too, but this kitten was another reason why they were afraid, because they didn't want Tubby to mix with riffraff like that.
But after a long day of hearing strange things on the news, seeing a rabbit read a sign even though rabbits couldn't read, and whispers of "Nightkit", the Dursley cats went to bed, thinking that things will be perfectly normal again. But they were wrong.
Strolling down the dark Thunderpath was an old wild tomcat. He was a big cat with a flat face, a silver tabby pelt, and bright blue eyes; in other words, he was a Persian. He turned to look at the rabbit that was lying against the brick wall to the Dursleys' house, but instead of eating it, he just laughed to himself and stopped at the foot of the brick wall.
"I should've known," he murmured.
The rabbit must have heard him because it turned to him, its brown eyes looking sharp and some kind of black splotches on its eyes. But the silver Persian cat gave a meager chuckle at it and reached into a purple bag that hung over his shoulder.
In his paws was something that Twolegs use to light up bad-smelling ginger or white sticks, but he called it a "Put-Outer". The silver tabby tom flicked it open with his paw and rapped it over the top and at once, all the lights on the Thunderpath went out. The tom stopped at the sign, the house just behind some distance from the sign.
The rabbit came hopping over to him, and he murmured, "It is pleasant to see you here, Thistleheart."
But the rabbit wasn't there anymore; instead, a pale tabby she-cat was padding toward him with stiffness in her stride. Her green eyes were filled with surprise, and there were also some black splotches around those stern green eyes.
She meowed, "Silverstar, how'd you know I was that rabbit?"
"My dear Thistleheart, I've never seen a rabbit stand so rigid," Silverstar purred.
"Well, you'd be rigid if you stood right up against a wall all day long," Thistleheart retorted dryly.
Silverstar looked mildly surprised. He meowed, "You've been here when you could've been celebrating? I passed many banquets and parties before coming here."
Thistleheart snorted irritably and snapped, "Oh, I agree, Silverstar. We thought the warriors would be a little more careful, but they must have messed up somehow because the kittypets and Twolegs are noticing strange things. It was on their news," she added, thrashing her tail at the Dursleys' Twoleg nest.
She must have seen her leader nod, for she went on, "I've heard about what's been going on: flocks of owls and meteorites. They're not stupid because they'll find out later. I bet you a couple of mice that it was Tinystep who arranged for the meteors to come. Then again, he isn't all that smart."
"You can't really blame them, "Silverstar reassured her. "We haven't rejoiced for eleven years."
"I know , Silverstar. But they shouldn't lose their minds about it. Many cats are stupid about not disguising their scent and telling rumors and the kittypets will find out about us if You-Know-Who is really gone." She turned to look at Silverstar and meowed, "Are you sure that he's really gone?"
Silverstar nodded and meowed, "I suppose he is gone, and we should be grateful. Would you like some Meow Mix?" he added, pushing a can of kittypet food toward her. Seeing her confused stare, he added, "It's a kittypet food that I'm getting fond of."
Thistleheart nudged it back to him impatiently and meowed, "No, thank you. Anyways, even if You-Know-Who is really gone from this world..."
"Thistleheart," Silverstar interrupted his deputy while waving his paw at her. "I'm sure you could say his name since you are very intelligent. I am really tired of hearing this 'You-Know-Who' nonsense, for I have tried to tell cats to call him by his real name: Red Helmet." Thistleheart let out a hiss at the mention of the name, but Silverstar ignored that, continuing, "If we keep on saying 'You-Know-Who', it'll get confusing. I have never had a problem saying his real name."
"I know, but you're different," Thistleheart meowed, a mix of exasperation and admiration in her mew. "Many cats know that the only cat You-Know...okay, Red Helmet, was afraid of is you."
The silver tabby Persian nodded. "Thank you, Thistleheart. But it is because Red Helmet has powers I could never have."
"But it's because you're too...filled with justice to use them."
"I'm happy it is dark," Silverstar replied happily. "I don't think I blushed this much ever since Poppyleaf told me she liked my new cloak."
But Thistleheart gave him a stern glare and meowed, "I have heard rumors about how owls were delivering messages all over the state of Alaska, but it's nothing compared to what I've heard. They've been saying things about what had happened. About how that bear went away. And about what finally thwarted his plan."
It seemed that Thistleheart was near the thing most anxious to discuss, the real reason she was waiting on a cold hard wall all day. For neither as a rabbit nor as a cat did she fix Silverstar with such a penetrating stare as she did now. It was plain that whatever "everyone" was saying, she wouldn't believe it until he told her it was true. Silverstar, who was lapping up some cat food from the can, did not answer.
"And..." Thistleheart went on, looking astonished, "I've heard a rumor that Darkfire and Lilypelt have...have been...killed."
Silverstar nodded his head in silent confirmation, and Thistleheart gasped with sorrow.
"They're both...I can't believe it...I thought...Silverstar..." She couldn't finish this anymore and hung her head in sorrow.
Silverstar patted her on the shoulder and murmured, "I understand, my friend...I understand..."
Thistleheart's voice began to shake as she continued, "There's more: they've said that monster tried to kill their son, Nightkit, but he couldn't. No other cat knows why that happened, but they said this: when he couldn't kill the kit, Red Helmet's power somehow broke, and that's how he's gone."
Silverstar didn't reply, but he nodded glumly.
"So it's really true?" the pale tabby queen faltered. "After all the damage he did...all the cats and Twolegs he killed...and he couldn't kill a kitten? It's amazing...but how in the name of StarClan did Nightkit survive?"
"We may guess, but we will never know," came Silverstar's cryptic reply as he licked his leg and swiped it over his ear.
Thistleheart reached her front paw to her eyes and rubbed them good, trying to get rid of tears threatening to flow out. Silverstar sniffed a little and checked a watch that was attached to the center of his tail. He took it off and scrutinized the watch, which had twelve hands but no numbers; instead, little planets were moving around the edge. To any cat or Twoleg, it made no sense at all; for Silverstar, though, it made perfect sense.
It made sense to him, for he tied it to his tail again and mewed to Thistleheart, "Looks like Badgerstripe is late. It was he who told you that I would come here."
His deputy nodded and replied, "Yes. He did. And I wanted to ask you this question: why are you here?"
"I'm bringing Nightkit to his kittypet relatives, for they are the only family he has now."
"Are you joking? You actually mean the kittypets who live here?" Thistleheart yelped, leaping to her paw and kinking her tail at the street sign. "Silverstar, you mustn't! Their Twoleg is okay, but I've seen these cats all day in my rabbit form, and you can't find two cats that are lower than they. They've got this kitten and I've seen him hitting his mother in the face, screeching for cat treats. I can't believe you're doing this!"
"It's the best and only place for him," Silverstar replied firmly. "His relatives will explain to him about everything when he gets older. And I've written them a letter."
"A letter?" Thistleheart repeated him, jumping onto the wall. "Silverstar, do you honestly think those kittypets would understand that letter? They'll never understand him! Never! He'll be a legend, and I wouldn't be surprised if there was a Nightkit day going on today. I know they'll write books about him, and every kit in the Warrior World will know his name!"
"Precisely," Silverstar mewed, looking at her seriously. "It would be enough to turn any cat's head to look at him. He'll be famous before he could learn to talk or walk, and he'll be famous for something he won't remember for a long time! He'll have to grow up away from our world until he is ready to understand."
Thistleheart opened her mouth, changed her mind, then meowed, "You're right, Silverstar." She eyed Silverstar's long pelt as if he were carrying the kit under there and added, "How's he getting here?"
Silverstar simply answered, "Badgerstripe will bring him here."
Thistleheart gaped at him and mewed, "Is it wise to put this task into someone's paws like Badgerstripe?"
"Yes. I would trust him with my life."
"Look, I'm not saying that his heart's twisted; I know he's a kind cat," the Forest deputy retorted reluctantly. "But he's not always careful! He can be prone to...did you hear that?"
Both cats looked toward the end of the Thunderpath as the noise grew louder, hoping that they would find the eyes of a monster coming with Nightkit in its belly. A loud roar echoed above them and they looked up...in time to see a huge motorcycle land in front of them.
Despite the motorcycle being big, it didn't compete with the cat riding it. He was the size of a leopard, and he was wider than any other cat. He looked like a really feral cat: short coarse black fur with two stripes running from his head to his tail, huge paws that could knock out a cat with one swipe, and very dark amber eyes. In his jaws, he was gently holding a bundle of white nest-pelts.
Silverstar padded to the big cat, dipped his head to him, and mewed with relief, "Greetings, Badgerstripe. I am happy to see you arrive on time. Where did you get the motorcycle?"
"I borrowed it from Padfoot, sir. Padfoot Black," Badgerstripe grunted deeply as he hopped down from the motorcycle and laid the bundle down to the ground. "And I got the kid, sir."
"Were there any problems?"
"Well, 'nother bear tried to eat him, but it got squarshed underneath the ruins." Badgerstripe shuffled his paws before going on, "Yeah, the Twoleg nest was almost' destroyed, but I got 'im out OK before any Twoleg got suspicious about what went on. When we went over the Kenai Peninsula, he fell asleep, cute little guy."
Silverstar and Thistleheart padded forward to crouch over the bundle before them. Inside the white blankets was a longhaired black kitten who was fast asleep. Right in the center of the extra fur on his forehead was a white lightning-shaped scar. It was a curious scar.
"Is that where...?" Thistleheart gasped.
Silverstar nodded. "He shall have that scar for the rest of his life."
The pale tabby mewed, "But...but can't you fix it or something?"
"Even if I can, I won't. Scars can be useful, like the one under my left front leg that is a perfect map of Juneau. Hand him over, please, Badgerstripe," Silverstar went on, stepping forward to the big black cat. "We should get this over with."
Badgerstripe padded forward, his dark amber eyes watering, as he rasped, "Can I...can I just say goodbye to him, please, sir?"
Silverstar nodded. Then, without another word, he bent his great big head down to Nightkit and licked him with a large tongue that could scoop him out of the blanket. With that done, he sat up and began wailing.
Immediately, Thistleheart clamped his jaws shut with her paw since she could hear dogs barking. She hissed, "Shut up, Badgerstripe, or the kittypets will hear you and wake up! You already got the dogs barking!"
"S-s-sorry 'bout that," Badgerstripe moaned as he rubbed his eyes with his giant paw and dropping his head. "I-I can't stand it. Both Darkfire an' Lilypelt gone...and poor tiny Nightkit gonna live with kittypets..."
"Yes, we know it's sad, and I feel it too, but get a grip before the Twolegs find us," the Forest deputy whispered to him as she laid her tail on his shoulder.
She nodded to Silverstar, and the great silver tabby picked the bundle of blankets up, turned to the Twoleg nest, and padded on over to the front door. He smoothly laid Nightkit down on the doorstep, took out a letter from his bag, laid it among the blankets, and padded back to the other two cats waiting for him. For a minute, the three wildcats stared at the kits sleeping in the blankets. Badgerstripe's muscles shook, Thistleheart blinked furiously, and Silverstar bowed his head in a humble manner.
"Well, that's that," Silverstar mewed, turning back to the other two wildcats. "We have no more business here, so we better get back to the celebrations."
Badgerstripe nodded and replied in a muffled voice, "Yeah. I better get the bike back ter Padfoot. G'night, Silverstar and Thistleheart."
As he wiped his eyes again, the black cat hopped onto the motorcycle and brought the engine to life. With a mighty roar, it lifted itself into the air and it sped off into the night sky.
Silverstar turned to the pale tabby she-cat, nodded, and told her, "I shall see you very soon, Thistleheart." Thistleheart nodded and groaned at the same time as a reply.
Then the silver Persian tom turned around and began padding back down the Thunderpath. Once he got to the corner, he stopped and he reached into the bag for his Put-Outer. He had to click it only once, and all the lights on the path came back on; in the orange light, he could see a pale-furred rabbit hopping away to the corner at the other end of the path. He could still see the white blankets on the step that contained Nightkit.
"Good luck, Nightkit," Silverstar murmured over his shoulder before turning around. And with the whirl of his silver pelt, he ended up disappearing on the spot.
A gust of wind ruffled the perfect hedges of the road, which lay silent and clean under the black sky, the very last place you would see something strange yet exciting. Nightkit circled around in his blankets while sleeping. He laid his small paw on the letter right beside him, but he slept on.
He didn't know he was special. He didn't know he was famous for defeating a demon bear, and he didn't know that he would be awakened in a few hours by the screech of Tulip Dursley as she opened the door to put milk bottles out onto the step, or the fact that he would spend the next few weeks being nipped and scratched by Tubby, his cousin.
He didn't know that at the moment, cats who would group together in secret over the world and Alaska were rising onto their haunches with their paws in the air and calling silently.
"To Nightkit, The Cat Who Lived!"
To be continued...
AvatarCat09: That took me several weeks to finish and I was planning to give my story to someone else, especially Jokegirl, who I asked if she wanted the story. I'll continue until I run out of ideas for this.
I wanna say a lot of thanks to Bramblefang-rulz, Linzerj, Jokegirl, Myrkin, ultima-owner, A Beautiful Oblivion, snowwhistle, and several friends of mine for reviewing the stories or giving me good advice and ideas.
Katara: So you guys get some virtual goodie-bags and a pat on the back. You deserve it! :)
AvatarCat11 and Katara: See ya next time!