AvatarCat12: Here we are, folks! The final chapter for the third Nightfang book!

Harry: Thank God it's gonna be over. But there's still some bad luck ahead in the other books.

AvatarCat12: I know. But sometimes, you gotta take in the bad days with the good. And without bad days, which I hate, we don't learn from mistakes. And by the way, sorry I wasn't here last week. I was at my dad's place for the week.

Harry: That's okay. And is it okay if I say the last disclaimer for this story?

AvatarCat12: Sure.

Disclaimer: AvatarCat12 owns neither Harry Potter nor Warrior Cats. J.K. Rowling and Erin Hunter own them respectively. AvatarCat12 is mending them together for others' enjoyment

Uploading Date: June 30, 2012

Both: Enjoy!


Owl Mail Again

"Psst! Nightfang!"

Fawnwillow was tugging at his tail, looking up at the moon. "We got ten minutes to get back to the medicine den unseen before Silverstar locks the door!"

"Okay," Nightfang mewed, wrenching his gaze from the sky. His tail hurt from the pressure her long canine teeth were making. "Let's go."

They slipped through the doorway behind them and down a spiraling stone staircase. As they reached the bottom, they heard voices, flattened themselves against the wall, and listened. It sounded like Fudgepelt and Brokenfang walking quickly along the corridor at the foot of the staircase.

"I hope Silverstar will not make any difficulties," Brokenfang was saying. "So the Kiss will be performed immediately?"

"As soon as Coalpad returns with the Dementors," Fudgepelt replied. "This whole Black matter has been embarrassing. I can't tell you how much I look forward to informing the Daily Warrior that we got him at last. I think they'll want to have an interview with you, Mr. Snape. And once young Nightfang is better, I think he'll want to tell the Warrior how you saved him."

Nightfang clenched his teeth in anger and caught a glimpse of Brokenfang's simpering smirk as he and Fudgepelt passed their hideaway, their pawsteps dying away. Nightfang and Fawnwillow waited to make sure they were gone, then they started to run in the opposite direction. Down one staircase they went, then another, then along a new corridor. Then they heard a cackling noise up ahead.

"It's the Joker!" Nightfang muttered, pulling Fawnwillow by the scruff into an empty classroom. "Quick! In here!"

They were just in time too. The Joker seemed to be bouncing along the corridor in a lively good mood, laughing his head off like a hyena.

"He's really terrible, isn't he?" Fawnwillow mewed, her ear to the door. "I bet he's happy about the Dementors coming to finish off Padfoot. Three minutes left!" she groaned as she looked out the window at the moon.

They waited until his gloating voice had faded into the distance until they couldn't hear him. Then they slid back out of the room and broke into a run again.

"Fawnwillow...what'll happen if...we don't get back inside before Silverstar locks the door?" Nightfang panted as they ran.

"I so don't want to think about it!" Fawnwillow groaned, looking out another window yet again. "One minute left!"

They finally reached the end of the corridor with the medicine den entrance. Fawnwillow turned to Nightfang and mewed, "Okay, I hear Silverstar. Nightfang, let's go!"

They crept along the corridor like they were going hunting. The door opened, and Silverstar's flat face appeared.

"I will lock you in now. It is five minutes to moonhigh," they heard the leader saying. "Three turns should do it. And by the way...when in doubt, I find retracing my steps to be a wise place to begin. Good luck."

Then the silver tabby Persian backed out of the room, closed the door, and flicked his tail-wand forth to magically lock it. Panicking, Nightfang and Fawnwillow ran forward just in time to see Silverstar look up, a wide smile appearing under the silver mustache-like fur on his upper lip.

"Well?" he asked quietly.

"They're free," Nightfang panted breathlessly. "We did it."

Silverstar still had a smile on his face when he heard that, but all he said was "Did what? I'll lock you in now. Good-night."

Nightfang and Fawnwillow gave their leader a grateful nod and slipped back inside the den. It was empty except for Redstone, who was still lying down on his nest but looking amazed as they entered. And just in time, their past selves had vanished into thin air while the present selves went back to their nests, Fawnwillow putting the Time Turner in her bag.

"How did you get there?" the American Shorthair mewled. "I...I was talking to you over there! And now you're there!"

"What in StarClan is he talking about?" Fawnwillow asked Nightfang, meeting his gaze with a meaningful look.

Nightfang shrugged. "I have no idea." To Redstone, he added, "Honestly, Redstone, how can cats be in two places at once?"

Fawnwillow looked over at the ginger tom's broken leg before purring in a perfectly good imitation of Pugface, "Ouch! That looks really painful."

"It's sorta painful," Redstone replied in a good imitation of Iceheart. "They uh, they might...chop it off with a chainsaw."

"I'm sure Poppyleaf can fix it right away," Fawnwillow went on playfully.

Nightfang rolled his eyes at that...but in an amused way. He remembered Pugface going way too shrill about Iceheart's "injury" and how Iceheart was constantly faking it.

Redstone protested playfully, falling back into his nest, "It's too late! it's ruined! It'll have to be chopped off!"

Nightfang purred at what they were doing. He had a feeling that they liked each other a lot...and maybe a bit more than just friends. Then a moment later, Poppyleaf came striding back out of her office, looking irritated.

"Did I hear Silverstar leaving?" the Maine Coon asked. "Am I allowed to tend to my patients now?"

Since Poppyleaf looked like she was in a bad mood, Nightfang and Fawnwillow decided to accept their chocolate quietly. Poppyleaf sat at one end of their nests, making sure they ate it, while Redstone fell back asleep. But Nightfang could hardly swallow; his godfather was free and on the run. He and Fawnwillow lay waiting and listening, their nerves jangling.

And then, as they both accepted a fourth hunk of chocolate from Poppyleaf, they heard a distant roar of anger echoing from somewhere. Nightfang knew that roar very well; it must have been Brokenfang.

"What was that?" Poppyleaf asked in alarm.

Now they could hear angry voices, growing louder and louder. Poppyleaf was staring at the door, her eyes narrowing.

"Honestly! They'll wake everybody up!" she hissed. "What do they think they're doing?"

Nightfang was trying to hear what the voices were saying. They were drawing nearer every second.

"Disapparated. He must have. We should have left somebody in there with him. When this gets out, then-"


"Be reasonable! Nightfang and his friends have been locked up for the night!"


The door of the medicine den burst wide open, and Fudgepelt, Brokenfang, and Silverstar came walking into the ward. Silverstar looked calm; in fact, he looked like he seemed to be enjoying himself. Fudgepelt appeared angry, but Brokenfang was beside himself.

"POTTER! WHAT DID YOU DO?" Brokenfang roared when he spotted Nightfang. "OUT WITH IT!"

"Brokenfang!" Poppyleaf yowled. "Control yourself!"

Fudgepelt was meowing, "Now Brokenfang, be reasonable. This door's been locked, we just saw-"

But Brokenfang did not listen, for his face was twisted, and he was foaming at the mouth. He pointed his claws at Nightfang and Fawnwillow and bellowed, "THEY HELPED HIM ESCAPE, I KNOW IT!"

"Calm down!" Fudgepelt barked, his chocolate brown pelt bristling. "You're talking nonsense!"

"YOU DON'T KNOW POTTER!" Brokenfang shrieked. "HE DID IT! I KNOW HE DID IT!"

"That will do," Silverstar spoke up quietly. "Think of what you are saying. This door was locked when I left the ward ten minutes ago. Poppyleaf, have they left their nests?"

"Of course not!" Poppyleaf retorted, bristling. "I'd hear them if they did!"

Silverstar nodded calmly and turned back to Brokenfang. "Well, there you go. Unless you say that Nightfang and Fawnwillow could be in two places at once, I'm afraid I don't see any point in upsetting them even further. Let them be."

Brokenfang just stood there, livid and glaring from Fudgepelt, who looked surprised at his behavior, to Silverstar, whose blue eyes were twinkling. Finally, the dark brown tabby tom whirled about, fur still bristling, and stormed out of the area.

"Hmmm...that chap seems quite unstable," Fudgepelt muttered, staring after him. "I'd watch out for him if I were you."

"Oh, he's not unstable," Silverstar replied quietly. "He's just disappointed."

Fudgepelt huffed. "Well, he's not the only one! The Daily Warrior's going to have one heck a field day! We had Padfoot cornered and he slipped out from under our paws yet again! All it needs is for the story of that hippogriff's escape to get out, and I'll become a butt of all jokes! Well...I better go tell the Government."

Silverstar turned to the Havana Brown. "And the Dementors will be removed from the school?"

"Oh yes, they'll need to go," Fudgepelt answered, twitching his tail vaguely. "Never dreamed they'd try the Kiss on an innocent child...completely out of control. I promise I'll have them back in Alcatraz tonight. Perhaps we should put griffins at the school entrance next year."

"I'm sure Badgerstripe would love that," Silverstar purred, smiling kindly at Nightfang and Fawnwillow.

As he and Fudgepelt left the medicine den, Poppyleaf hurried over to the door and locked it again. Muttering angrily to herself about her patients being disturbed, she headed back to her office. There was a low gasp from one of the nests, for Redstone had woken up, looking about and still looking confused.

"You explain," Nightfang told Fawnwillow, taking a bite out of some more chocolate.


When the Golden Trio left the medicine den at noon the next day, it was for them to find an almost empty castle. The sweltering heat and the end of the tests meant that everyone was taking full advantage of another visit to the Village. Neither Redstone nor Fawnwillow felt like going, though, so they and Nightfang took a walk on the grounds, still talking about the amazing events of last night and wondering where Padfoot and Buckbeak were now.

Now they were sitting near the lake, watching the white sperm whale blowing its blowhole idly above the water. Nightfang lost the thread of the conversation as he looked across to the opposite shore at one part of the island. The stag had galloped toward him from there just last night...and it might have been Darkfire watching over him.

A shadow fell across them and they looked up to see a very tired Badgerstripe. He was pawing at his face with one of his huge cat-sized paws, but he was smiling down at them.

"Mornin', kids. I know I shouldn't feel happy, after what happened last night," he grunted. "I mean with Black escapin' again and everythin'...but guess what?"

"What?" they asked, pretending to look curious.

Badgerstripe had a look of pure joy on his face as he purred, "Beaky escaped! He's free! I've bin celebratin' all night!"

"That's great!" Fawnwillow purred, but she gave Redstone a reproving look because he looked like he was close to laughing.

"Yeah...I guess I didn't tied him up properly," Badgerstripe sighed, gazing happily out over the sea. "I was worried this mornin'. Thought he saw Wolfclaw on the grounds, but he told me he never ate nothin' last night."

"What?" Nightfang spoke up quickly.

The big black cat's smile faded a little as he lowered his voice, even though there was nobody in sight, "Haven't yeh heard, kids? Brokenfang told all the ViperClan cats this mornin'. Thought everyone would know by now, but...Wolfclaw's a werewolf, and he was loose on the grounds last night. He's packin' now."

Nightfang sat up, feeling very alarmed. "He's packing? Now? Why?"

"Leavin'," Badgerstripe replied, looking surprised that he had to ask. "Resigned first thing this mornin'. Says he won't risk it happenin' again, poor guy."

"What the...I'm gonna go see him," Nightfang mewed to his friends, scrambling to hi paws.

"But if he resigned-"

"Sounds like there's nothing we can do-"

Nightfang fixed them with a resolute stare. "I don't care. I still want to go see him. I'll see you guys back here." With that done, he spun around and ran back to the castle.


By the time Nightfang got there, Wolfclaw's office door was open; he had already packed most of his things. The mega anglerfish's empty tank stood next to his battered old suitcase, which was open and nearly full with stuff. Wolfclaw himself was bending over something on his desk and looked up when Nightfang knocked on the door.

"Good morning. And I saw you coming," the Norwegian Forest Cat mewed, smiling. He pointed his paw to the parchment he was reading. It was the Marauder's Map.

"I just saw Badgerstripe," Nightfang told him. "And he told us you resigned. It's not true, is it? Say it isn't true."

"I'm afraid it's true, Nightfang," Wolfclaw replied, opening his desk drawers and taking out the contents.

The young black cat felt betrayed at hearing this. "But why? Does the Government think you were helping Padfoot?"

Wolfclaw padded over to the door and closed it behind Nightfang. "No. Silverstar managed to assure Fudgepelt that I was just trying to save your lives." He sighed and sighed, "That was the final straw for Brokenfang. I think the loss of the Order of Thunder First Class hit him hard. So he...accidentally...let slip that I'm a werewolf this morning at breakfast."

"You're not leaving just because of that!" Nightfang hissed, angry that Brokenfang was forcing Wolfclaw to quit. But instead of agreeing or telling him to settle down, the light brown tabby tom smiled wryly.

"This time tomorrow, parents are going to send owls to the school, Nightfang. They won't want a werewolf teaching their kits. And after last night, I can see their point. I could have bitten any of you and infected you. That must never happen again," he added with a groan.

Nightfang couldn't stand seeing him go, however. "But you're the best Defense Against the Dark Arts mentor we've ever had! Don't go!"

Wolfclaw merely shook his head and didn't speak as he carried on emptying his drawers. Then, as Nightfang tried to think of a good argument to make him stay, Wolfclaw went on, "From what Silverstar told me this morning, you saved a lot of lives last night. If I'm proud of anything I've done this year, it's teaching you on how much you've learned. Now tell me about your Patronus."

"How'd you know?" Nightfang asked, distracted.

"What else could've driven the Dementors off?"

Remembering how relieved he was at seeing the Dementors flee, Nightfang told Wolfclaw what had happened. When he finished, the Norwegian Forest Cat was smiling again.

"Yes, your father could turn into a stag," he finally meowed. "That's why we called him Bambi."

He tossed his last few books into his case, closed the drawers, and looked at Nightfang, tossing him the Invisibility Pelt. "Here. I got this from the Howling Hut last night." He hesitated, then he took the map in his jaws and dropped it at Nightfang's paws. "I am no longer your mentor, so I don't feel guilty about giving you back this. It's no use to me anymore, and I think you and your friends will find good uses for it."

Nightfang took the map into his jaws and grinned. "You said Lupo, Fritz, Balto, and Bambi would want to lure me out of school. You said they'd think it was funny."

"And so we would have," Wolfclaw purred, closing his case. "I will say this: Darkfire would have been disappointed if his son had never found any secret paths out of the castle."

There was a knock on the door, and Nightfang quickly stuffed the Map and the Pelt into his bag. It was Silverstar, but he didn't look surprised to see the black tom there.

"Your carriage is at the gates," he told Wolfclaw.

Wolfclaw nodded and backed up up his old suitcase and the empty tank. Then he turned back with a smile to Nightfang, and the black cat swore he saw a small tear in his eye.

"The very first time I saw you on the train, Nightfang, I identified you instantly," the light brown tabby meowed. "Not by your scar, but by your eyes. They're your mother Lilypelt's eyes."

Seeing the amazed look on Nightfang's face, he went on, "Yes, I knew her. She was there for me when no one else was. Not only was she a gifted warrior, but she was also a very kind cat. She had a way of seeing the beauty in others even when they couldn't see it in themselves, though perhaps most especially. Your father, Darkfire, however, had a certain...talent for trouble. It must be a talent he passed on to you. You're more like them then you'll ever know, Nightfang. And one day, you'll come to see just how much."

He gave a small smile again and purred, "Well...good-bye. It has been a real pleasure being your mentor. I'm sure we'll meet again sometime." To Silverstar, he mewed politely, "There's no need to see me to the gates. I'll handle it."

I guess he wants to leave quickly, Nightfang guessed with gloom.

"Farewell, Wolfclaw," Silverstar replied soberly. "May StarClan light your path."

Wolfclaw shifted the mega angler tank onto a carriage wagon so that he could nod to Silverstar. Then, with a final nod to Nightfang and a swift smile, he left the office.

Nightfang sat down in his vacated chair, staring glumly at the floor; he was happy Wolfclaw had survived the Defense post unlike the others, but he was upset he had to go...but there was yet another thing that bothered him… But then he heard the door close and looked up, for Silverstar was still there.

The silver tabby Persian was looking at him with concern as he meowed, "Why so miserable? You should be very proud of what you did last night."

"It doesn't matter," Nightfang hissed bitterly. "Wormtail got away."

"Doesn't matter?" Silverstar repeated. But he had a small smile on his face as he purred, "It made all the difference in the world, Nightfang. You helped uncover the truth. You saved an innocent cat from a terrible fate."

Terrible. Something stirred in Nightfang's memory like grass in the wind. Greater and more terrible than ever before...

Mistbright's prophecy!

"Silverstar?" he asked. "Just yesterday, when I was having my Divination exam, Mistbright went...strange."

"Oh?" Silverstar asked. "Stranger than usual?"

Nightfang nodded. "Yeah. Her voice went deep, her eyes rolled back into her head, and she told me...that the servant of Red Helmet would set out to return before moonhigh. She said he would help him return to power. And then she became normal again, but she couldn't recall anything she said. Was it...a real prophecy?"

Silverstar looked impressed. "You know, I think it was." he mewed thoughtfully. "Who'd have thought of it? That brings her sum of true prophecies up to two. I think I should offer her a pay raise."

"But-" Nightfang looked at him, astonished. How could Silverstar take something serious like this so calmly? "But I stopped Padfoot and Wolfclaw from killing Wormtail! It'll be my fault if Red Helmet comes back!"

"No it will not," Silverstar replied quietly. "Has your experience with the Time-Turner taught you nothing? The costs of our actions are always so complex, so assorted, that predicting the future is a very difficult business. Mistbright...thank StarClan for her skills...is living proof of that. You did a very noble thing last night."

"But if he helps Red Helmet get back to power-"

Silverstar went on, "He owes his life to you. You have sent Red Helmet an agent who is in your debt. When a warrior saves another's life, it creates a bond between them...and I'm mistaken if Red Helmet wants his servant to be in your debt."

Disgusted, Nightfang spat, "I don't want a connection with Wormtail! It's his fault Red Helmet killed my parents!"

"This is magic at its deepest and most impenetrable, Nightfang," Silverstar reasoned. "But believe you me: the time may come when you will be happy you saved Wormtail's life."

Nightfang couldn't imagine when that time would be, but he didn't want to think of his parents' betrayer. Silverstar looked like he knew what Nightfang was thinking.

The silver tabby tom meowed, "I knew your father very well, both at the Forest and later. He would have saved Wormtail too, no doubt about that."

Hearing this, Nightfang looked up at his leader. He wondered if he could tell Silverstar about what he saw last night. But he hoped he wouldn't laugh.

"I thought I saw my father conjuring my Patronus," he admitted. I mean, when I saw myself across the lake...I actually thought I saw him."

"Oh, don't worry. It's an easy mistake to make," Silverstar told him softly. "I assume you must be tired of hearing it, but you do look so much like your father. Except...you have your mother's eyes."

Nightfang shook his head, recalling what Padfoot told him. "It was stupid, thinking it was him," he muttered. "I mean...I know he's dead. Fawnwillow told me."

Silverstar fixed him with his kind blue eyes "You think the dead we loved truly leave us? You think we don't recall them more clearly than ever in times of great trouble? Darkfire is not dead spiritually. He lives in you, and he had shown himself most plainly when you have need of him. How else could you produce that particular Patronus? Bambi rode again last night."

It took a moment for the British Shorthair mix to realize what Silverstar told him. His father was still alive...in spirit.

"Padfoot told me all about how they became Animagi," Silverstar went on with a small smile. "It sounds like an amazing feat...keeping it quiet from me. And then I remembered the most unusual form your Patronus took, when it charged at Iceheart and his Clanmates at your AirBall match against RavenClan. You know, in a way, you did see your father last night, for you found him in you. He lives in you."

And Silverstar left the office, leaving Nightfang to his confused thoughts.


Nobody at Forest knew the truth of what had happened the night that Padfoot, Buckbeak, and Wormtail had vanished except the Golden Trio and Silverstar. As the end of term approached, Nightfang heard many different ideas about what had really happened, but none of them were the real truth.

Iceheart was very furious about Buckbeak escaping and not put to death. He was convinced that Badgerstripe found a way of smuggling the hippogriff to safety and was outraged that he and his father were outwitted by a gamekeeper. Sandthorn, meanwhile, had much to say on the subject of the great escape.

"If I get a job in the Government, I'll have proposals to make about Magical Law Prosecution!" he told the only cat who would listen: his mate, Lightwhisker.

The weather was perfect, the atmosphere was cheerful, and Nightfang knew they had achieved the near impossible in helping Padfoot get to. However, he had never approached the end of a school year in worse spirits. But he certainly wasn't the only one who hated to see Wolfclaw go. The whole of Nightfang's Defense Against the Dark Arts class was sad about his leaving.

"Wonder what they'll give us next year?" Sandfur asked gloomily.

"Maybe a vampire," Ashfoot guessed hopefully.

It wasn't only Wolfclaw's departure that was weighing on Nightfang's mind. He couldn't help thinking a lot about Mistbright's prophecy and what it all meant. He kept wondering where the cowardly Wormtail was now...if he had sought sanctuary with Red Helmet yet. But the thing lowering the Maine Coon mix's spirits most of all was the prospect of returning to the Dursley cats.

For half an hour, a glorious half hour, he had believed he would live with his godfather from now on...his parents' best friend. It would have been the next best thing to having his father back. And while no news of Padfoot was good news, because it meant he had gone into hiding, Nightfang couldn't help feeling sad when he thought of the home he might have had and the fact that it was ruined.


The test results came out on the last day of term. Thankfully, the Golden Trio had passed every subject. Nightfang was amazed that he passed Potions; he had a suspicion that Silverstar had stepped in to keep Brokenfang from failing him on purpose. The dark tabby's behavior toward Nightfang over the past week had been quite alarming. He thought Brokenfang's dislike for him could not increase more, but it had. A muscle twitched nastily in Brokenfang's jaw every time he looked at Nightfang, and he was constantly sliding his claws in and out as if he was itching to slice them across his throat.

Sandthorn had got his top-grade N.E.W.T.s, and the twins had scraped a handful of O.W.L.s each. LionClan, meanwhile, thanks to their spectacular performance in the AirBall matches, had won the Clan championship for the third year in a row. This meant that the end of term feast took place with decorations of scarlet and gold, and that LionClan was the noisiest of all as everybody celebrated. Even Nightfang managed to forget about the journey back to the Dursley cats the next day and the gloominess of not living with Padfoot as he ate, drank, talked, and laughed with the rest.

As the Forest Train pulled out of the station the next morning and headed deeper into the mainland, Fawnwillow gave her friends some surprising news.

"I went to see Thistleheart this morning before breakfast. I decided to drop Kittypet Studies."

"What? But you passed your test with three hundred and twenty percent!" Redstone yelped.

Fawnwillow sighed. Yeah, I know, but I can't stand another year like this. That Time-Turner was driving me crazy. I turned it in. Without Kittypet Studies and Divination, I'll have a normal schedule again...and sleep good again while I'm at it!" she added with a wink.

"I still can't believe you didn't tell us about that," Redstone muttered grumpily. "We're your friends."

"I promised I wouldn't tell anyone, so I couldn't," the Angora mix retorted, dropping the happy look. She looked around at Nightfang, who was watching the Forest disappear from view behind a mountain.

Two whole moons before I see it again...

Seeing that look, Fawnwillow mewed, "Come on, Nightfang. Cheer up!"

"I'm okay," Nightfang told her quickly. "Just thinking about this upcoming greenleaf."

"Yeah, I've thought about it too," Redstone piped up. "Hey Nightfang, you gotta come and stay with us this greenleaf. I'll try and fix it up with Mom and Dad, and then I'll call you. I know how to use a fellytone now."

Fawnwillow rolled her amber eyes. "The rest of the world calls it a telephone. Honestly, I think YOU should take Kittypet Studies next year."

The ginger tom rolled his eyes in return, but he ignored her remark. "So anyways, the AirBall World Trophy is coming around this greenleaf! So how about it, Nightfang? If you come over and stay for this greenleaf, we'll go see it! Dad can usually get tickets from work."

This proposal seemed to cheer Nightfang up as he game a smile. "Yeah...I bet the Dursley cats will let me come...especially after what I did to Aunt Dolores."

Feeling more cheerful, he joined his friends in several games of Liar's Dice. And when the she-cat with the cart arrived, he bought himself a very big lunch, though nothing with chocolate in it. He still felt bad for Wolfclaw resigning from his post.

But it was late in the afternoon before the thing that made him really happy turned up.

"Hey Nightfang," Fawnwillow mewed suddenly, peering over his shoulder. "What's that thing out your window?"

Nightfang turned to look outside. Something very small and dark brown was bobbing in and out of sight beyond the glass. He stood up on his hind legs to see that it was a tiny owl, an elf owl carrying a letter much too big for it. The owl was so tiny, in fact, that it kept dipping over in the air, rocked this way and that in the train's slipstream. So Nightfang pulled down the window, stretched out his head, and caught it in his jaws. It felt like a very fluffy and feathery Pinch to him, then he brought it carefully inside.

The elf owl dropped its letter onto Nightfang's seat and began whizzing around their booth, very happy with itself for achieving its task. Katara clicked her beak with noble displeasure as if she couldn't stand the hyperactivity while Garfield sat up in his seat, following the owl with his yellow eyes. Redstone, noticing the white ferret mix, snatched the owl safely out of harm's way.

Nightfang picked up the letter and stared; it was addressed to him. He ripped open the letter and, noticing who it was from, shouted, "It's from Padfoot!"

"Really?" his friends asked excitedly. "Read it to us!"

So Nightfang did.

Dear Nightfang,

I hope this finds you before you get to your relatives' place. I don't know if they're used to owl post, so it's better safe than sorry.

Buckbeak and I are in hiding right now. I'm sorry when I tell you that I can't tell you where, if this owl falls into the wrong paws. I have some doubt about his consistency, but he's the best I could find, and he did look ready for the job.

I believe the Dementors are still searching for me, but they won't find me here. I am planning to allow some kittypets or Twolegs see me soon, a long way from the Forest, so that the security will be lifted from the Forest.

There is something I never told you during our brief meeting. It was I who sent you the Thunderbolt.

"Ha!" Fawnwillow cheered elatedly. "Told you it was from him!"

"Yeah, but he didn't jinx the wings, now did he?" Redstone retorted. But he gave a yelp as the elf owl, now hooting happily on his hear, had nibbled his ear in what it seemed to think was a kind way.

Garfield offered to take the order to the Owl Office for me, so he did. I used your name, but I told them to take the gold from my Liverpool vault. Think of it as thirteen birthdays' worth of presents from your godfather.

I'm also sorry for the scare I think I gave you that night when you left your Twoleg's house. I had only hoped to see you before starting my trip north, but I think the sight of me shocked you.

I am attaching something else for you, which I think will make your next year at the Forest even more fun.

If ever you need me, send me word. Katara (Silverstar told me her name) will find me.

I'll write again soon.

From, Padfoot

Nightfang looked eagerly inside the envelope, for there was another piece of scroll in there. He read it through quickly and felt suddenly as warm and contented as if he swallowed a big hunk of rabbit meat in one gulp.

I, Padfoot Black, Nightfang Potter's godfather, hereby give him permission to visit the Village on weekends.

"That's good enough for Silverstar!" Nightfang purred happily. He looked back at Padfoot's letter and meowed, "Wait, there's a P.S."

I thought your friend Redstone would like to keep this here elf owl. It's my fault he no longer has a pet mouse.

Redstone's blue eyes widened as the elf owl still hooted excitedly. "Keep him?" he asked with great uncertainly. He looked closely at the owl for a moment before to his friends' great surprise, he held him down for Garfield to sniff.

"What do you think?" he asked the ferret. "Definitely an owl?"

Garfield squealed happily.

"That's good enough for me," Redstone purred happily. "He's my pet now."

So Nightfang read and reread the letter from Padfoot all the way back into King's Cross station. It was still clutched in his jaws as he and his friends went back through the barrier of platform seven and a half, where he saw Uncle Bristle at once. The burly gray tom was standing a good distance from Weaseltail and Hollywhisker, eyeing them shadily, and as Hollywhisker hugged the Maine Coon mix in greeting, his worst suspicions about them seemed to be confirmed. But Daniel, who had been talking with Redstone's owner, waved over to him happily.

"I'll call you about the World Trophy!" Redstone yowled after Nightfang as said cat bid him and Fawnwillow good-bye. Giving a small sigh, Nightfang wheeled the cart bearing his suitcase and Katara's cage toward Uncle Bristle, who greeted him in his usual fashion.

"What's that?" he snarled, staring at the envelope Nightfang still held in his jaws. "If it's another form for me to sign, you've got another-"

"Oh, it's nothing like that," Nightfang told him cheerfully. "It's a letter from my godfather."

Bristle's short jaw dropped. "Godfather? You don't have a godfather!"

Nightfang nodded. "Of course I do. He was my parents' best friend. He's a killer, but he broke out of prison and is on the run. He likes to cantact me, though...keep up with my news...check to see if I'm happy..."

And, smiling at the look of horror on his uncle's face, Nightfang padded towards the station exit, Katara's cage rattling along in front of him. A much better greenleaf than the last seemed to have come at last.

The End


AvatarCat12: We're done at last! Thank God!

Harry: I know. But this adventure's far from over. There's still four more books to go through.

AvatarCat12: I know. But we'll work on them. So who wants to say the disclaimer and preview for Nightfang Potter And The Trophy Of Fire?

Harry: I will. (To the readers) Read and review, everyone! Those who do will receive virtual Nightfang plush dolls and a pizza of your choice. Flames will be used for S'Mores, but advice and constructive criticism are welcome anytime.

Preview: The fourth book starring Nightfang and his coming of age story has arrived. He wants to get away from his malevolent Dursley kin and go to the Global AirBall Trophy with Redstone, Fawnwillow, and the other Weasley cats. He also wants to dream about his crush Rainleaf Chang (and do more than dream).

But Nightfang also wants to find out about the mysterious event happening at the Forest, School of Warriorism this year. An event involving two other warrior schools from around the world and a competiton that hadn't appeared since World War 1.

All in all, Nightfang just wants to be a normal cat. A normal fourteen-year-old warrior cat. But sadly, he knows that he's not a normal cat, even by normal warrior cat standards. He knows that he's doomed to be different.

And in this case, normal can be deadly.

Finally, here are the people we want to thank for reviewing this FanFic:

Red Infinity Dragon, WildCroconaw, MaximumRideFangLover97, Sounds Of Sorrow, chickencow, Juniperfrost, Guest