Cats Challenge by whitetigerwolf:
What happens when Harry gets a witch pregnant in their Animagus forms?
- Harry and whatever witch he knocks up must be the same animal as him.
- Harry and the witch cannot know that the other animal is magical/animagus until the witch discovers she's pregnant.
- Must contain a lecture from McGonagall.
- Cannot take place before fourth year.
- Must include pregnancy and birth in story.
- Harry and his witch must marry before the child, or children depending on what you do, is born.
Summary: The story starts in Harry's Fourth Year at Hogwarts; after a summer of un-suspected twist and turns, being able to spend time with Sirius, learning to become an Animagus and realizing some home truths, Harry returns to Hogwarts as a different person: one that won't be controlled by others.
However, apart for the changes over the summer, there'll be a few mishaps during Harry's first few months back at Hogwarts that'll change Harry's live and the future of the Wizarding Worlds forever.
Harry/McGonagall/Hermione/Multi - if you don't like this paring, don't read on.
Disclaimer: I do not in any shape or form own Harry Potter, be it characters, spells, items, or anything else that's connected to the Harry Potter books/movies; they all belong to J. K. Rowling & the Warner Bros Pictures. I don't even earn any money from this. The only characters that I do own are the ones that you haven't read about in the books. Although, I wish I did, that way I could come up with a more believable way for Harry ending up with Ginny or someone who is better for him. Also I would made Hermione less trusting of people like Dumbledore and less bossy. Anyway, onto the story.
Warnings: Dark Fic, Underage Sex, Strong Language, Characters Bashing, Violence, , Fem-Slash (female on female) and Character Death, OOC, OC's, Sub/Dom, Male Dom, Bestiality and many, many more, I'll place them when needed. If you don't like any of these, then stop reading now, as any flames that haven't got a point will be told where to get off.
"About time," Muttered Ron. Grasping his knife and fork he gazed at the empty serving trays arrayed on the table.
Harry Potter, fourth year boy wizard, watched as the last eleven year olds waiting to be sorted walked to his house table, Hufflepuff. Turning his head to look at Ron he gave him a grin and replied, "It's not the end of the world if a storm delays the firsties on the lake." Sure he, like many others from second to seventh years, were hungry, but as long as the first years got here safely, it wouldn't be too bad to wait a bit longer.
Ron looked back at him, "I'm bloody well hungry, mate-"
"Ronald, Language!" Hermione chided. Ron gave her a sardonic grin.
Harry noticed the Headmaster stand and the Great Hall fell silent. Goblet raised, Dumbledore spoke. "To the students, new and old. Tuck in." With that he took a sip and returned to his seat. Harry and most of the Great Hall mirrored the headmaster and gave a murmured "To the students."
With great gusto, Ron attacked any food dish within arm's reach moments after they appeared on the table.
"Watch the hands, lads." Harry cautioned to those sitting around them. A few people chuckled and glanced at Ron in amusement.
"Ahhh, 'at's be'er" Ron said, his mouth full of mashed potatoes.
After several conversation-less minutes, Nearly Headless Nick floated near, forlornly surveying the feast. "You're lucky there's a feast at all tonight, you know," He said, "There was trouble in the kitchens earlier."
"Why? What happened?" Harry asked before he took a bite of steak.
Shaking his head which wobbled dangerously, Nearly Headless Nick replied, "Peeves of course," pulling his ruff a little higher up on his neck. he continued. "The usual argument, he wanted to attend the feast and well it's quite out of the question. You know what he's like, utterly uncivilized, can't see a plate of food without throwing it. We held a ghosts council, the Fat Friar was all for giving him the chance but most wisely, in my opinion, the Bloody Baron put his foot down and forbid him from coming."
The Bloody Baron was a Gaunt and silent spectre that favoured the house of Slytherin, whose appearance gave some chills. Covered in silver bloodstains, he was the only entity in the castle that was actually capable of reining in Peeves.
"Yeah, we saw Peeves in the entrance hall, seemed hacked off about something," said Ron darkly. "So what did he do in the kitchens?"
"Oh the usual," said Nearly Headless Nick, shrugging. "He wreaked havoc and mayhem, causing pots and pans to fly everywhere, the place was swimming in soup and the terrified house-elves -"
Hermione knocked over her golden goblet of pumpkin juice. It spread steadily over the tablecloth staining several feet of white linen orange but Hermione paid it little attention.
"There are house-elves here?" she said, staring horror-struck at Nearly Headless Nick. "Here at Hogwarts?"
"Certainly," said Nearly Headless Nick looking surprised at her reaction. "The largest number in any single dwelling in Britain, I believe. Over a hundred elves."
"I've never seen one around the school!" said Hermione, glancing left and right, trying to catch a glimpse of one.
"Well, they hardly ever leave the kitchen by day" said Nearly Headless Nick. "They only come out at night to do a bit of cleaning, tend to the fires and so on. I mean, you're not supposed to see them, are you? That's the mark of a good house-elf, isn't it, that you don't know it's there?"
Hermione stared at him. "But they get paid?" she asked with a glare that would make Snape proud. "They get holidays, don't they? And - and sick leave, and pensions, and everything?"
Nearly Headless Nick chortled so much that his collar slipped and his head flopped off, dangling on the inch or so of ghostly skin and muscle that still attached it to his neck. "Sick leave and pensions?" he said, pushing his head back onto his shoulders and securing it once more with his collar. "House-elves don't want sick leave and pensions or anything like that!"
Hermione looked down at her hardly touched plate of food and then putting her knife and fork down upon it pushed the plate away from her. "Slave labour," said Hermione, breathing hard through her nose. "That's what made this dinner. Slave labour!"She said, refusing to eat another bite.
Harry knew where all her indignation was coming from, the story he'd told her about Dobby and what had happened to the house-elf Winky this past summer. He could also guess what she was thinking right now, a way to free all of the house-elves in Hogwarts and then the world. "Hermione, eat something, will you, starving yourself won't help anyone, neither you nor the elves and you know it," said Harry. Hermione retaliated with a glare.
Despite her initial thoughts on the matter, Hermione realized after a few moments that Harry was right. So, unhappily, she began to eat again. "Good, now, if I know you as well as I think I do, you're planning to do something foolish like, like attempt to free the elves here at Hogwarts, well don't." Harry stated.
Surprised at his insight into what she was thinking and not quite believing that Harry would tell her not to try and free the possibly enslaved creatures, she protested "But Harry -"
"Hermione, think about this," Harry interrupted. "You're basing this slave labour nonsense idea on what you know about Dobby and Winky. Dobby, who was owned by the Malfoys, and Winky, who you saw for all of five minutes. Don't muggles have maids and butlers? For all you know all the other elves might be treated like maids and butlers, after all, don't Muggles have maids and butlers for large houses? And even if it is slavery maybe there's a reason for it, maybe they like it."
Hermione was startled by Harry's argument. With a huff, she rebutted. "Regardless, hired help is just that, hired, meaning they get paid. And as for them liking being treated as a slave, that's because they don't know any different."
"Ok, you got me there on the muggle maids and butlers getting paid," Harry admitted, "But, how much do you know about house-elves? At the moment you're acting like Ron." Harry chuckled as both Hermione and Ron give him the evil eye, he turned to look at Ron and with a sigh continued. "Come on, Ron, we all know that you often act without thinking, like hating the Slytherins for no reason apart from Malfoy and his cronies. There might, after all, be some good ones in the house and the only reason they don't act upon it is because they're worried about what the reset of their house and the people like Malfoy within it would do to them. And with people like Malfoy, I don't blame them one bit, it would explain why they act the way they do, keeping to themselves to keep safe. It is the reason why I don't go looking for them, just in case Malfoy, or those like him, find out and decide to torment or hurt them for being friends, hell even civil, with me."
"What-" Ron barked.
"If you don't like the idea of that, Ron, grow up and deal with it," Harry added as he saw how angry Ron was at this. "Unlike you and many others, I don't see Slytherins as evil and everyone else as good. Do I have to remind you of last year," Ron shook his head as he remembered the Gryffindor traitor Peter Pettigrew. Dejectedly, Ron returned to his plate. The other students around Harry, Hermione and Ron who were listening to the debate about house-elves had to wonder what happened last year to stop Ron from arguing about Slytherins.
"Now where was I," said Harry as he turned and faced Hermione, pausing for a moment of thought, he said, "Oh, yes, how much do you actually know about house-elves? What if they don't want to be paid? Or what's to say they're not paid in some form other than galleons? What if having food and a safe place to call home is enough compensation for them? Also, What if a house-elf needs to be 'enslaved' as you would say?
"What do you mean Harry?" Hermione asked, confused, "Why would a house-elf need to be enslaved at all?" Many of the students who were listening wondered this too and pointedly looked at Harry, waiting to hear his answer.
"I was thinking about Dobby and why he would stay with the Malfoys for so long if they treated him so badly." Harry said. "So I read up on it in a book I was able to find this summer, that explains about House-Elves and their behaviour. House-Elves need the magic of a master to survive. They're like, small helpful versions of Dementors, except instead of feeding on emotions, they 'feed' on magic. Without that steady supply of magic they can die."
Hermione's eyes widened.
"There's a special process that is fairly reminiscent of enslavement, but it creates a bond between the elf and his master. So, simply freeing the house-elves is actually a bad idea. Also, as far as I'm aware of, the bond can only be broken by the master, so I'm not too sure you'd be able to free them anyways, but I'm all for helping create a system to protect them." Harry said.
Hermione and everyone around Harry who was listening to him talking sat in silence thinking over what he had said. None of them had thought about house-elves and the reason behind why the bound themselves to witches and wizards like this before, most Muggleborns like Hermione had thought that it was only a form of slavery. But if Harry was right, then house-elves needed wizards and witches to live, which made Hermione decide that she had to research this before she did anything else, as she didn't want to unknowingly kill them.
"Oh, and one last thing, Hermione," Harry said with a playful smirk, something that worried Hermione. With a quick glance around he leaned closer to her but didn't lower his voice. "As for the house-elves liking being treated as a slave, I've read a few books over the summer about people, magical and muggle, who also like being treated as a slave, willing to serve their master in any way possible." the older muggleborns and a few purebloods student overhearing this blushed, knowing full well what Harry meant.
There were a few moments of silence around Harry, he could hear the rain drumming heavily against the high, dark glass and the murmur of other conversations around the Great Hall. Then there was another clap of thunder that shook the windows, the stormy ceiling flashed, illuminating the golden plates as the remains of the first course vanished and were replaced instantly with desserts.
"Treacle tart, Hermione?" asked Ron, not noticing the bashful looks on the faces of the people around him. In resentment, and partly due to his obsession with food, he didn't listen to what Harry said after he told him that he would be willing friends with Slytherins. "Look, spotted dick and chocolate gateau!"
A red-faced Hermione gave him a look so reminiscent of Professor McGonagall that he gave up and it caused him to wonderwhy most of the people around him had red faces.
When the puddings too had been demolished, with Hermione finishing some treacle tart, the last crumbs faded off the plates leaving them sparkling clean. Albus Dumbledore again got to his feet, the buzz of chatter filling the Hall ceased almost at once so that only the howling wind and pounding rain could be heard.
"So!" said Dumbledore, smiling around at them all. "Now that we are all fed and watered, I must once more ask for your attention, whilst I give out a few notices.
"Mr. Filch, the caretaker, has asked me to tell you that the list of objects forbidden inside the castle has this year been extended to include the newest line of products from Zonko's. The full list comprises some four hundred and thirty-seven items, I believe, and can be viewed in Mr. Filch's office, if anybody would like to review it." The corners of Dumbledore's mouth twitched. He continued, "As always I would like to remind you that the forest on the grounds is out-of-bounds to all students and so is the village of Hogsmeade for those below their third year."
After a short pause to examine the assembled students, Dumbledore said, "It is also my painful duty to inform you that the Inter-House Quidditch Cup will not take place this year."
"What?" Harry gasped in shock. All around him students were stunned, shouting in surprise and gaping at the headmaster in shock. He looked around at Fred and George, They were mouthing soundlessly at Dumbledore, apparently too appalled to speak.
Dumbledore went on, "This is due to an event that will be starting in October, and continuing throughout the school year, taking up much of the teachers' time and energy, but I am sure you will all enjoy it immensely. I have great pleasure in announcing that this year at Hogwarts-"
At that moment there was a deafening rumble of thunder and the doors of the Great Hall banged open.
A man stood in the doorway, leaning upon a long staff, shrouded in a black travelling cloak. Every head in the Great Hall swivelled toward the stranger, suddenly brightly illuminated by a fork of lightning that flashed across the ceiling. He lowered his hood, shook out a long mane of grizzled, dark gray hair, then began to walk up toward the teachers' table. A dull clunkechoed through the Hall on his every other step.
He reached the end of the top table, he turned right and limped heavily toward Dumbledore. Another flash of lightning crossed the ceiling causing Hermione to gasp.
The lightning had thrown the man's face into sharp relief, and it was a face unlike any Harry had ever seen. It looked as though it had been carved out of weathered wood by someone who had only the vaguest idea of what a human face was supposed to look like, and was none too skilled with a chisel. Every inch of his skin seemed to be scarred, the mouth looked like a diagonal gash and a large chunk of his nose was missing but it was the man's eyes that made him frightening.
One of them was small, dark and beady. The other was large, round as a coin and a vivid electric blue. The blue eye was moving ceaselessly, without blinking, rolling up, down, from side to side, quite independently of the normal eye and then it rolled right over, pointing into the back of the man's head, so that all they could see was whiteness.
The stranger reached Dumbledore and he stretched out a hand that was as badly scarred as his face which Dumbledore shook, muttering words Harry couldn't hear. He seemed to be making some inquiry of the stranger who shook his head unsmilingly and replied in an undertone. Dumbledore nodded and then gestured the man to an empty seat on his right-hand side.
The stranger sat down, shook his mane of dark grey hair out of his face, then pulled a plate of sausages toward him and raising it to what was left of his nose, sniffing it. He then took a small knife out of his pocket and speared a sausage on the end of it, beginning to eat. His normal eye was fixed upon his food but the blue eye was still darting restlessly around in its socket taking in the Hall and the students.
"May I introduce our new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher?" said Dumbledore brightly into the silence. "Professor Moody."
It was usual for new staff members to be greeted with applause, but none of the staff or students clapped except for Dumbledore and Hagrid, who both put their hands together and applauded, but the sound echoed dismally into the silence causing them to stop abruptly. Everyone else seemed too transfixed by Moody's bizarre appearance to do more than stare at him.
"Moody?" Harry muttered to Ron. "Mad-Eye Moody? The one your dad went to help this morning?"
"Must be," said Ron in a low voice.
"What happened to him?" Hermione whispered. "What happened to his face?"
"Dunno," Ron whispered back, watching Moody with fascination.
Moody, meanwhile, seemed totally indifferent to the less-than-warm welcome. Ignoring the jug of pumpkin juice in front of him he reached again into his travelling cloak and pulled out a hip flask. As he lifted his arm to drink his cloak was pulled a few inches from the ground and Harry saw, below the table, several inches of a carved wooden leg ending in a clawed foot.
Dumbledore cleared his throat. "As I was saying," he said, smiling at the sea of students before him, all of whom were still gazing transfixed at Mad-Eye Moody, "we are to have the honour of hosting a very exciting event over the coming months, an event that has not been held for over a century. It is my very great pleasure to inform you that the Tri-wizard Tournament will be taking place at Hogwarts this year."
"You're JOKING!" said Fred Weasley loudly.
The tension that had filled the Hall ever since Moody's arrival suddenly broke.
Nearly everyone laughed, and Dumbledore chuckled appreciatively. "I am not joking, Mr. Weasley," he said, "Though now that you mention it, I did hear an excellent one over the summer about a troll, a hag, and a leprechaun who all go into a bar." Professor McGonagall cleared her throat loudly, warning him to get back to what he meant to be doing. "Err - but maybe this is not the time… no…" said Dumbledore, "Now where was I? Ah yes, the Tri-wizard Tournament… well, some of you will may not know what this tournament involves, so I hope those who do know will forgive me for giving a short explanation, and allow their attention to wander freely."
"The Triwizard Tournament was first established some seven hundred years ago as a friendly competition between the three largest European schools of wizardry: Hogwarts, Beauxbatons, and Durmstrang. A champion was selected to represent each school and then the three champions competed in three magical tasks. The schools took it in turns to host the tournament once every five years and it was generally agreed to be a most excellent way of establishing ties between young witches and wizards of different nationalities, until, that is, the death toll mounted so high that the tournament was discontinued."
"Death toll?" Hermione whispered, looking alarmed. Her anxiety did not seem to be shared by the majority of students in the Great Hall, many of them were whispering excitedly to one another and Harry himself was far more interested in hearing about the tournament than in worrying about deaths that had happened hundreds of years ago.
"There have been several attempts over the centuries to reinstate the tournament," Dumbledore continued, "none of which has been very successful. However our own department of International Magical Cooperation and Magical Games and Sports have decided that the time is ripe for another attempt. We have worked hard over the summer to ensure that this time no champion will find himself or herself in mortal danger."
"The heads of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving with their shortlisted contenders in October and the selection of the three champions will take place at Halloween. An impartial judge will decide which students are most worthy to compete for the Triwizard Cup, for the glory of their school, and for a thousand Galleons of personal prize money."
"I'm going for it!" Fred Weasley hissed down the table, his face lit with enthusiasm at the prospect of such glory and riches. He was not the only person who seemed to be visualizing himself as the Hogwarts champion. At every House table Harry could see people either gazing raptly at Dumbledore or else whispering fervently to their neighbours. He for one wasn't going to enter this Tournament, as he imagined finally having a normal year without a life or death situation arising. He might not have Quidditch this year but he did have plans for his time that would keep him busy. Dumbledore started to speak again causing the students in the Great Hall to become silent once more.
"Eager though I know all of you are to bring the Tri-wizard Cup to Hogwarts," said Dumbledore, "the heads of the participating schools along with the Ministry of Magic have agreed to impose an age restriction on contenders this year. Only students who are of age, that is to say, seventeen years and older will be allowed to put forward their names for consideration. This -" Dumbledore raised his voice slightly, for several people had made noises of outrage at these words and the Weasley twins were both suddenly looking furious "- is a measure we feel is necessary, given that the tournament tasks will still be difficult and dangerous. Whatever precautions we take it is highly unlikely that students below their sixth year will be able to cope with them. I will personally be ensuring that no underage student hoodwinks our impartial judge into making them Hogwarts champion." His light blue eyes twinkled as they flickered over Fred's and George's mutinous faces. "I therefore beg you not to waste your time submitting yourself if you are under seventeen."
"The delegations from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving at the end October and remaining with us for the greater part of this year. I know that you will all extend every courtesy to our foreign guests while they are with us and will give your wholehearted support to the Hogwarts champion when he or she is selected. And now, it is late and I know how important it is for you all to be alert and rested as you enter your lessons tomorrow morning. So I wish you all good night and will see you all bright and early at breakfast tomorrow."
Dumbledore sat down again and turned to talk to Mad-Eye Moody. There was a great scraping and banging as all the students got to their feet and swarmed toward the double doors into the entrance hall.
"They can't do that!" said George Weasley, who had not joined the crowd moving toward the door, but was standing up and glaring at Dumbledore. "We're seventeen in April, why can't we have a shot?"
"They're not stopping me entering," said Fred stubbornly, also scowling at the top table. "The champions will get to do all sorts of stuff you'd never be allowed to do normally, and think of the prize money!"
"Yeah," said Ron, a faraway look on his face. "Yeah, a thousand Galleons…"
"Come on," said Hermione, "we'll be the only ones left here if you don't move." Harry, Ron, Hermione, Fred, and George set off from the entrance hall, Fred and George debating the ways in which Dumbledore might stop those who were under seventeen from entering the tournament.
"Who's this impartial judge who's going to decide who the champions are?" said Harry.
"Dunno," said Fred, "but it's them we'll have to fool. I reckon a couple of drops of Aging Potion might do it, George…"
"Dumbledore knows you're not of age, though," said Ron.
"Yeah, but he's not the one who decides who the champion is, is he?" said Fred shrewdly. "Sounds to me like once this judge knows who wants to enter, he'll choose the best from each school and never mind how old they are. Dumbledore's trying to stop us giving our names."
"People have died though!" said Hermione in a worried voice as they walked through a door concealed behind a tapestry and started up another narrow staircase.
"Yeah," said Fred airily, "but that was years ago, wasn't it? Anyway, where's the fun without a bit of risk? Hey, Ron, what if we find out how to get 'round Dumbledore? Fancy entering?"
"What d'you reckon?" Ron asked Harry. "Be cool to enter, wouldn't it? But I s'pose they might want someone older… dunno if we've learned enough…"
"I definitely haven't," came Neville's gloomy voice from behind Fred and George. "but I expect my gran'd want me to try, though. She's always going on about how I should be upholding the family honour. I'll just have to - oops…"
Neville's foot had sunk right through a step halfway up the staircase. There were many of these trick stairs at Hogwarts; it was second nature to most of the older students to jump this particular step, but Neville had a habit of forgetting it. Harry and Ron seized him under the armpits and pulled him out, while a suit of armour at the top of the stairs creaked and clanked, seemingly laughing.
"Shut it, you," said Ron, banging down its visor as they passed. They made their way up to the entrance to Gryffindor Tower, which was concealed behind a large portrait of a fat lady in a pink silk dress.
"Password?" she said as they approached.
"Balderdash," said George. Turning to the others, "Overheard a prefect downstairs."
The portrait swung forward to reveal a hole in the wall through which they all climbed. A crackling fire warmed the circular common room, which was full of squashy armchairs and tables. Bidding them good night, Hermione disappeared through the doorway to the girls' dormitory.
Harry, Ron, and Neville climbed up the opposite spiral staircase until they reached their own dormitory, which was situated at the top of the tower. Five four-poster beds with deep crimson hangings stood against the walls, each with its owner's trunk at the foot. Dean and Seamus were already getting into bed; Seamus had pinned his Ireland rosette to his headboard and Dean had tacked up a poster of Viktor Krum over his bedside table. His old poster of the West Ham football team was pinned right next to it.
"Mental," Ron sighed shaking his head at the completely stationary football players.
Harry, Ron, and Neville got into their pyjamas and into bed. Someone, a house-elf no doubt, had placed warming pans between the sheets. It was extremely comfortable lying there in bed and listening to the storm raging outside.
"I might go in for it you know," Ron said sleepily, "if Fred and George find out how to enter the tournament, you never know, do you?"
"S'pose not," said Harry, "if the twins can find a way into the tournament, you should try if feel you can do it. For me, I'm going to stay way out of it, let someone else face the danger."
"What?" Ron asked in shocked voice, "What about the fame and the Galleons?"
"I already am famous, and I've got enough Galleons to hold me over until I finish Hogwarts, why would I want more?" Harry asked Ron. What he didn't tell Ron was that over the summer, he found out that he had enough Galleons to live off for a few lifetimes, he didn't say anything, he didn't want to create an awkward situation. "Although I'll miss Quidditch, I can finally have a year without someone or something trying to kill me. I can finally have a normal year. Maybe this year I can get myself a girl without worrying about anything else."
"S'pose you right," Ron said thoughtfully. For the last three years, Harry had faced death more than once. He couldn't blame his friend for wanting one normal year, he knew he would if he went through what Harry had. "Although with everything that you went through, whatever the tasks might be I bet you could pass them with ease."
"You're right," Harry said with a chuckle, "with everything you, Hermione and I went through these last few years, there might not be much I couldn't get through," then with a fake yawn, Harry said, "Now come on, let's get some rest, we've got class in the morning."
"G'night mate," Ron said with a yawn, and rolled over and in a few moments, he was asleep.
After several minutes and the snores of his dorm-mates were evident, Harry got out of his bed. With a quick glance at each bed to confirm they were all asleep, Harry transformed and where he once stood was a black haired Kneazle with brilliant green eyes. With quick, silent steps, the Kneazle exited the dorm room, descended the staircase and slipped out the common room door, his plan; to have some fun.
TO BE CONTINUED!
Authors Note:Hi all, I hope you like the start of the story, and if you did, could you leave a review telling me what you think and any ideas you might have for this story. As I would like to hear what you would like to happen in this story, as all ideas are welcome.