Stronger for You

Chp. 14 Let There Be Laughter

"Thou art the Great Cat, the avenger of the Gods, and the judge of words, and the president of the sovereign chiefs and the governor of the holy Circle; thou art indeed...the Great Cat." - Inscription on the Royal Tombs at Thebes

Chapter Fourteen

September 1st

Fluff this catnip.

Why was that stuck in my head? Why? Why? Why?

Oh yeah, because of the damned fluffed cat toy filled with catnip poking into my side. Siriusly, she couldn’t expand this damn thing? It wasn’t so hard!

I meow viciously loud once more, hissing as Ginny slaps the side of the woven basket. Speaking of this damned basket, why couldn’t it be plastic or something more comfortable than wicker? I would have serious words with this ginger the second I was out of this ridiculous carrier.

If you haven’t caught on by now, I’m a cat. Or, in cat form.

“Hush, Tigress, we’re almost there.” Ginny soothes. I hiss crossly.

“I still don’t know why you’re taking the poor creature with you, Ginny dear. We would have gladly taken care of it.” Mrs. Weasley starts again. We were currently heading towards Platform 9 ¾ with all the Weasleys as guard for Ginny and Mrs. Weasley.

I was the secret weapon, but no one knew of that except for Ginny and Charlie. I was supposedly home with a bad ‘summer cold’ and the only suspicious one was George, but Charlie had shut him up with a quickly whispered conversation.

“I’ve grown really attached to her, mum. I want a bigger pet than Arnold and Luna’s already agreed to help me care for her. She’s very excited to finally have a pet.” Mrs. Weasley dropped the subject. We stop before the barrier, everyone bracing themselves for whatever awaited them on the other side. Ginny takes George’s hand.

“I’m sorry that Jacky is sick. I know she wanted to see you off, Ginny.” Mrs. Weasley sighs. She had had my disguise all worked out too.

“She’s just upset because she can’t reunite with her ferret lover.” Fred grumbles. I flick my tail in irritation at the depressed look on his face. He has barely smiled the last few days, causing immense guilt on my part. He had wormed his way into my heart, the stupid weasel. I wish I could make him feel better; at least tell him there was hope.

But as much as Fred had taken my heart, Draco has my soul; as horribly cheesy as that sounded. It was true, I was tied to Draco.

I look down at my paws. This sucked.

Might as well explain the plan to avoid repetitiveness.

Part One: I was turned into a cat. Not the kitten from last year with Draco, but a full grown cat. I had whiter fur now instead of the gray due to my tiger genes showing; the original black stripe still running down my back for my hair.

What people would notice most would be the shiny, pink scar that disfigured my shoulder, left-over from the death eaters’ visit. It pained me on occasion, but Mrs. Weasley had assured me that it would go away once it healed completely. I hoped so.

“Oh my” I refocus my attention back to the platform. Or, the new platform. It was changed; it stood silent and black, void of all colour. Families were congregated together in suspicious groups, looking around warily. Masked death eaters strut up and down the platform, their faces of death an ominous warning. As they passed by us, I itched to go tiger on them and give them a piece of my mind. Or rather, my claws. Yet, I withheld; it would get too many innocents hurt.