The Grey Cat

Chapter 1--The Welcome

The train was as red as blood.

The steaming, loud Hogwarts Express waited impatiently at platform nine and three-quarters, emitting exasperated sighs and gusts of steam as it waited for its passengers to board. It wanted to be on its way.

Cat tucked her hood up around her ears, reveling in the comfort and warmth derived from that simple action. For a brief moment she felt warm and safe, but then the biting wind wound its way down her hood to caress her neck with icy fingers. Her almost-smile faded, and she boarded the train, emotionless.

***

There were no empty compartments on the train. Cat had arrived only a few minutes before eleven o'clock, as the jetlag and time zone difference had made her internal alarm clock she relied upon completely useless, and even though she had been living in England for the summer, her body had not adjusted, and she had overslept.

Cat Grey was a transfer student from Salem Academy, the magical school in America. She had spent five blissful years there, with friends and a marvelous boyfriend. Her loving parents were rich and showered her with whatever gifts she wanted.

Her life had been perfect.

Then the world turned over. The scandal had been revealed. Her parents, who had been sweet and kind, yet distant, were arrested by the MBI (Magical Bureau of Investigation) for shady dealings on the Black Magic Market. Cat had been with them, at the long mahogany dinner table, eating dinner with her parents. As Cat wandered down the train corridor, searching the compartments for a seat, her mind relived that night.

***

The chandelier glowed warmly from the molded ceiling, shining like the sun and illuminating the dark shadows of the room. The chink of silverware was inviting and friendly, and Cat chatted amiably with her parents. It was the first day of summer vacation, and she brightly briefed them on her doings of her fifth year of Salem Academy.

"Principal's Honor Roll? That's great, honey, we're so proud."

"How's that boyfriend, Cat?"

"Heh, thanks Mom, but it's nothing, all of my classes are pushovers. Duh Dad, like me and John would ever--"

Six men barged into the dining room, interrupting Cat. Esperanza, their maid, was trailing after them, waving her hands desperately and jabbering at them helplessly in Spanish.

"Mr. and Mrs. Grey?" a man asked. He wore a hat and dark sunglasses, and made no move to remove them. He kept his identity secret behind those sunglasses, hiding everything.

"What do you mean, barging in here like--" Cat's father started to rise.

The man reached for his wand and waved it professionally. A badge shimmered in the air. The MBI badge fluttered in the air, then slowly faded, leaving behind a feeling of unease that was palpable. Cat's brow wrinkled. She set down her fork and stared at her parents in disbelief.

They were white, pale, and shaking. Her mother fainted, hitting her head hard against the marble floor.

***

"Do you plan staying in the corridor the whole ride?" a drawling voice floated over her.

Cat started violently and twirled around, her eyes wide and panicked.

A pale boy had his arms crossed in front of him, watching her. Two mountainous trolls of boys flanked him. He was beautiful, she noticed absently. His hair was platinum and his skin a pale alabaster. He was tall and thinly muscular, and his face, though gorgeous, was not feminine in the least. She regained her composure smoothly, hiding any and all expression from her face.

"You're blocking the door to my compartment," he drawled lazily.

"That's nice." She opened the boy's compartment door and slipped in, setting her carry-on bag in her lap. The boy came in and regarded her with a surprised look, which he concealed quickly.

"And just what do you think you're doing?" he said, his English accent making him sound unbearably haughty.

Cat returned his look with blue-violet ice. "I'm sitting, what do you think I'm doing?"

The blonde boy raised an eyebrow at the cold look. Odd sense of humor. "Suit yourself," he drawled, "but you won't enjoy the trip."

The boy's bodyguards sat on the side opposite of her. They were so large they took up that complete half, leaving no room for the beautiful boy to sit. With a sigh, he sat next to her.

"And who are you?" he asked twenty minutes later.

"A girl who now goes to Hogwarts."

"That's not funny."

"I know that."

"What's your name?"

"Cat Grey."

"You're American?"

"No, I'm from Antarctica." He picked up on the sarcasm.

He didn't speak for the rest of the trip. Cat wasn't surprised that his bodyguards didn't talk; they didn't look as if they had the intelligence to utter words.

***

Draco Malfoy tried his hardest not to be intrigued by the girl sitting next to him on the Hogwarts Express. Every year he had been on the Hogwarts Express, it had always been him, Crabbe, and Goyle. Never had anyone else sat by them. It was unheard of. Then came this girl. He glanced at her with agitation. She infringed upon his privacy.

She was beautiful; there was no denying that. Her thin-boned face was gorgeous, with skin the color of cream. She had a waterfall of dark hair that ended at her elbows, and piercing blue-purple eyes, that had so far only looked at him with ice. Except for when he'd startled her. Then he'd thought he'd seen the ice melt into tears.

He shook himself mentally. What did he care? She was just some upstart American transfer student who had no manners. He stared out the window, watching the bruised clouds overhead.

***

It was raining when the train finally arrived at its destination. Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, and Ron Weasley got off the train.

"Oy, my back aches. Bloody trip." Ron stretched.

"Oh, shush up, you complain too much," Hermione said absently, searching through the rain to see if the magical carriages had arrived yet.

Harry stared at the girl getting off the train. She wore jacket with the hood up, but she glanced at him and he saw her face. He shivered, not knowing why.

***

There was a trail of mud in the Great Hall.

Draco smirked. "Lots of filth for Filch. That bloody Squib," he commented to Goyle. During Draco's fifth year the secret had leaked that Hogwarts caretaker, Argus Filch, was a Squib. A Squib was a person born to a magical family but who did not have the ability to produce magic. Squibs were more shunned than Muggle-borns.

Cat eyed the boy with dislike. His wry sense of humor was now replaced with completely immoral idiocy.

An elderly witch approached Cat. Her hair was pulled into a tight chestnut bun, and she peered at cat through square spectacles. "Miss Grey?" she inquired.

"Yes?" Cat responded, a tiny bit apprehensive.

"Follow me to be Sorted." The witch stared off, her emerald velvet robes billowing out behind her.

"Nice knowing you," the blond boy commented snidely.

Cat gulped. Sorting?

***

As soon as she saw the long line of scared first-years, Cat gave an unladylike snort, winning some stares from the first-years. Here she was, thinking that Sorting was something unpleasant, when it was just like the Assigning Ceremony at Salem. As she was fifteen and the first-years were eleven, she towered over all of them by at least a foot. She stood straight, tall, and emotionless, and the small first-years backed away from her.

As the line filed into the Great Hall, she noted the stares she received. It only occurred to her then that she had never removed her hood. She tugged it town, staring around coldly. No one met her eyes. She smiled inwardly.

"Baxter, Sally," the witch who had led Cat to the line held a long roll of parchment. A small girl with freckles and unruly red hair walked cautiously up, her hair bouncing energetically, a stark contrast to the look on her face. A grimy hat was placed upon her head. I hope there's an anti-lice spell on that thing, she thought. The thought of how many heads that had must have rested upon made her head spin.

"GRYFFINDOR" the hat cried. Cat was momentarily surprised at the hat's outburst. At Salem all you were just randomly Assigned to a house. This method at Hogwarts seemed to assign you based on tributes. A much better system, in Cat's opinion at least, there probably weren't as many spats within individual houses.

Names continued to be called, and Cat soon got bored. The ceiling of the hall was enchanted to look like the sky above. Cat had bought the book Hogwarts, A History to prepare herself for school. She had only had time to read a few pages, and wished she had read enough to know what the Sorting was. No big deal, she thought.

"Grey, Cat," the witch called. She heard sniggers. The nerve, she thought. So much for the warm welcome she had hoped to receive.

She walked stiffly to the stool and sat down. The filthy hat was placed upon her head.

Hmm, said a voice in her head.

Cat managed to not cry out, but it was a very near thing.

Quite interesting, the hat said silkily. Quite a temper you have, and quite a sardonic sense of humor. What a good Slytherin you could be. You're brave when need be. Good Gryffindor qualities there. Loyal too, but not unless someone earns your trust, and that you do not give freely. You would probably not be a very good Hufflepuff, I'm sorry to say. But your cleverness surpasses all else. Quick mind here, quick mind. Better be--

"RAVENCLAW!" the hat cried out. Cat ripped off the filthy hat. It gave her the shivers. She proceeded to the table with the loudest cheers. She sat near the end, politely shaking peoples hands, but never once smiling.

The plates filled magically with food. Cat helped herself generously. She hadn't eaten since this morning.

Someone bumped her back from the table next to her. "Sorry," drawled the voice in an unremorseful tone. It was The Blonde Boy. She realized she didn't know his name.

"What's your name?" she asked him haughtily.

"Why, Draco Malfoy, at your service. What a pleasure to meet you." He kissed her hand. She jerked it away and rubbed it absently. His eyes grew amused.

"Likewise," she said stonily. She turned back to her meal, feeling his eyes on her back.

***

Cat was feeling a bit sleepy as she followed the line of Ravenclaws to their dormitories. It had been quite a day, and the thought of a bed seemed very comforting.

After the first few corridors Cat knew she was lost. This castle was a labyrinth of cold drafty stone halls. She glanced at the chipped, scratched walls. There was a mystery and romance about the castle. It was old, and the stones radiated feelings of wisdom and age. Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was quite a contrast to Salem Academy. Salem was a series of low, three-story buildings with minimal ornamentation. Hogwarts, on the other hand, was an expansive castle, with sweeping stairwells and huge molded ceilings. It was beautiful.

"Welcome back to the Ravenclaw Common Room, or welcome to it if you are new," said a Ravenclaw Prefect. A stone gargoyle emerged from the stone wall. Cat was nonplussed. This is how you get into the Ravenclaw Common Room? she thought. At Salem there were separate buildings for each of the houses. Obviously Hogwarts was, again, completely different.

"Broom cupboard," said a Ravenclaw Prefect.

Cat had just enough time to begin to get confused again before the stone gargoyle came to life, winked at the Prefect, and moved aside to bare a large, stone archway.

The Ravenclaws entered, and Cat looked around with no small amount of admiration. The room was circular, and a glance upwards revealed a huge dome of a ceiling. The ceiling was covered with lifelike carvings of ravens and eagles in all sorts of positions; diving and gliding, perching and launching. The carvings had been painted to reveal every careful detail, and Cat almost expected the carvings to move. It was breathtaking.

The carpet was a lush, dark azure, so deep and thick Cat nearly laid down upon it. Around the room were seats that looked like large beanbags. Cat examined one, and found out she was right. They were large, velvet, cobalt beanbags. Cat fought a smile.

The walls were covered in bronze-framed moving painting, all of famous Ravenclaws. The walls were painted with more ravens and eagles

After the room had been thoroughly examined by the first-years and Cat, a pretty girl with long dark blonde hair got their attention.

"Just a reminder," she called out, "the Boys' Dormitories are through the left door, and the Girls' Dormitories are to the right. Now there's no cause to say you forgot which one was which," she said with a smile. She came up to Cat. "You'll be with the other sixth years, including myself," she said cheerfully. "Please follow me."

Cat dutifully followed the Prefect--at least, Cat assumed the girl was a Prefect--through the door on the right-hand side. The door revealed a passageway with the same plush carpet at bronze doors on either side, all of them neatly labeled with the year of its inhabitants.

The girl pushed open the Sixth Year door, revealing a spacey room. Cat liked the room. There was quite a bit of empty space, as all of the beds were in niches in the walls, with a curtain across the opening that could be opened and closed at will. For the claustrophobic Ravenclaws there were beds on the wall near the window, with curtains on all four sides.

"Any empty beds?" Cat asked the girl.

"Why, of course, there's one right there." The girl pointed to a bed in the corner.

"Perfect," Cat said blandly and walked over to it. The bed-niche had an antique golden-brown wood dresser next to it, as well as a personal golden-brown desk and matching nightstand. Cat stared at the desk, wondering how many Ravenclaw girls had sat at that very desk, slaving over homework or who-knows-what.

She shook of her thoughts and opened the curtains, looking at the bed with its blue velvet coverings embroidered with bronze moons and stars. A plain white nightgown was laid atop it which she recognized as her own.

Sighing with gratitude, she changed and crawled into bed, and then she was quite asleep.

***

Her mother was sprawled on the floor, blood staining the marble floor. The chandelier overhead seemed to darken as candles sputtered out, and dark shadows creeped into the room to watch the scene with malice.

Cat did not accept what she saw.

"Carol!" Cat's father cried, rushing to her.

"Do not move!" the MBI agent warned, raising his dark wand. "I repeat, do not move!"

Cat's father did not hear, as his mind was bent only on reaching his wife.

"Avada Kedavra!" the MBI agent called out without emotion.

Cat watched her father fall. Her breaths came in gasps, and she felt like she was not receiving enough oxygen. Her mind kept seeing first her mother fall, then her father, over and over...

"Dad! Mom! Dad! Oh my God wake up! Wake up!"

Cat woke up, breathing hard, her own dream words ringing in her ears.

***

Seven o'clock the next morning, the Prefects dragged the curtains open, revealing sleepy inhabitants who cursed mutedly as the early morning sunlight invaded their lairs.

"First classes, everyone," the blonde Prefect from the night before called out. "You'll make a bad impression if you're late."

"Oh, bugger off, Melinda," said a tousled-hair brunette in the bed next to Cat's.

Melinda just smiled.

Cat sighed and regretfully left her warm nest of warm linen sheets and blue velvet. Since she had been too tired to unpack last night, she stuffed her uniforms into the dresser, leaving one set out for herself. She examined the uniform with a raised eyebrow.

It wasn't as nice as the uniforms at Salem, she had to give her old school that much credit, but the uniforms were nice, but Cat felt like she was attending a Catholic boarding school. Cat pulled on her gray knee socks and shimmied into her mid-calf length pleated gray skirt. She buttoned up her crisp white blouse and pulled on her gray sweater vest, lined in cerulean and bronze. She looked at the tie with dismay.

"Here, let me help you with that," Cat looked up to see Melinda looking at her kindly.

"Here, let me help you with that," the agent told he emotionlessly, pulling her off of her dead parents' bodies. She screamed like a banshee and fought with every bit of strength she had, scratching his face and breaking his sunglasses.

"Stupefy!" the agent growled, and the world went black.

"No," Cat said a bit too sharply. "No, I'm fine." She left the tie on the bed, shrugged angrily into her black cloak, grabbed her books, and whirled out the door.

Cat stormed down corridors for a minute, until she realized that now she was completely lost.

"Crap!" she yelled whirling around. "Crap, Crap, Crap!" she cried out again as all of the books spilled out from her bag.

As she was shoving her books violently back into her back, she caught movement out of the corner of her eye. She glared up angrily at the intruder.

A dark-haired boy who looked to be about her age stepped back at the force of her glower, looking uncertain.

"Er...need any help?" the boy asked quite cautiously.

Her looked softened a tiny bit. He wasn't the source of her anger.

"Um...yes please," she replied unnecessarily, as he had already hunkered down to help her with her books.

The boy was average-height, with amazingly untidy hair and dorky round glasses. His was quite handsome despite that, and through his messy bangs she saw a lightning-shaped scar.

Her hands paused over the books.

"Harry Potter, I presume?" she asked.

He looked up and she saw brilliant green eyes. "Yes, I'm afraid that's me." He gave a little grin. "And you're Grey Cat," he said with a bigger grin.

"Cat Grey," she said irritably. "They thought it was cute, my par--" her voice caught at the mention of her parents.

"Don't they still think it's cute?" Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived, the Boy Who Had Faced Voldemort Many Times and Still Lived asked innocently.

"No. No they don't." Seeing his mouth open to ask why she cut him off with a "They're dead." She stood up with her bookbag.

"I'm sorry, mine are too," he said quietly.

"I know that."

"Doesn't everyone?"

"Good point. But at least you were small."

"When did yours die?"

"I have to go. Thank you very much for helping with my books."

She turned to go.

"You're going the wrong way," Harry commented.

She turned back. "What?"

"The Great Hall's this way."

"Oh." She followed him. Thankfully Harry must have noticed she wanted no more mention of her parents, for he talked of somewhat lighter things.

"So what year are you in?" he asked as they trudged through the corridors.

"Sixth."

"Me too."

"I know that."

"Doesn't everyone?"

"Good point."

They continued walking in silence for awhile.

"So you transferred here from America, right?" he finally asked.

Cat stiffened slightly. This was close to dangerous ground. "Yes."

"What school? I don't know any American Wizardry schools."

"There's a few. I went to Salem Academy."

"Was it nice?"

"Yes. Yes it was. Much easier to find your way around, for certain."

"I'm sure. Be warned, some walls pretend to be doors and the staircases move."

Cat looked at him. "You're joking."

He grinned, showing white teeth. "Nope. Here's the Great Hall, but of course you were here last night. We eat here and receive mail and after breakfast we get our schedules. If you need help getting around just ask." Another grin and he was gone.

***