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He had puzzled over it, pacing back and forth in the Gryffindor common room all night. He turned the golden egg over in his hands, examining it for the umpteenth time. Harry knew there wouldn't be anything new to find on the egg. He'd stared at it all evening. Even Hermione had taken a look and found herself stumped.

Maybe.

She was adamant that any outside help would have been considered cheating, so even if she had seen any clues on the golden egg, she kept it to herself. He stopped in front of the fireplace and set his hand on the screw atop the egg, ready to twist it open and force himself to endure the horrific screeching he knew was trapped inside.

"Harry!" a voice hissed at him nearby.

He jumped in fright and twisted his head to and fro. "Who's there?"

"It's me!" the voice whispered. "Down here!"

Harry turned his attention to the fireplace and was momentarily panicked by the face grinning up at him from the orange coals.

"Snuffles!" he whispered back and crouched down close to fireplace to lean in close to his godfather's smoldering face. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm not there," Sirius reminded him. "What's that you've got there?"

Harry glanced down to the egg in his hands and shook his head. "It was the reward from the first challenge. I had to snatch it from a dragon!"

"I heard about that," the glowing orange face said. "Folk in Hogsmeade were talking about it. They say it was the best flying they have ever seen from a fourth year. Well done, Harry!"

What pride he felt from his godfather's praise felt hollow. He set the egg down on the stones beside the fire and brushed his hands off as if the confusion he felt was but a dust coming off of the metal. "It's a riddle. Every time I open it, there's this high pitched squealing. None of us know what it is."

Sirius's glowing face pondered for a moment. "Maybe some of the other competitors have a better idea."

"They aren't going to help me. If any of them know, they've got an advantage over me, the famous Harry Potter," he spat, glaring down at the egg in front of him.

"Maybe," Sirius agreed, "but you have an advantage they don't."

"What advantage?" Harry asked.

"You're James Potter's son." The embers grinned up at him. "Do you still have the map?"

"Of course," Harry said, patting the pocket in his robes he kept it in.

"Good! Then you can sneak into wherever they are puzzling over that egg and get some insight. You need to be stealthy and take up as little room as possible." That mischievous grin returned. "I think it's time we taught you to be an animagus."

Excitement flared up in Harry's chest and he licked his lips as they curled into a smile. "Yes!"

"First take out the map. Take a good look at where everyone is."

Harry plucked the map from the inside pocket of his robes and unfolded it carefully. Cedric was in the Hufflepuff dormitory. He wasn't sure if the map would see far enough onto the grounds to see the other schools but-...

His eyes did a double-take, zipping across one of the names trailing quick footsteps in the corridors. Fleur Delacour. What was she doing in the castle at this time of night? He watched her little footprints scurry around the corridors then stop outside the prefects' bathroom.

A moment later, the footprints slipped inside and huddle in a corner.

"Okay," he said to no one in particular as he folded the map up and stuffed it back into his robes. Leaning forward, he peered at his godfather and asked "How do I animagus?"

"It usually takes a long time and effort," Sirius paused, "but I think you might be a quick study, given the circumstances. First, pick an animal. In this case something stealthy, quick, quiet, with good senses. Something that can go by unnoticed but won't attract too much attention wandering through the castle."

Harry thought for a moment, then nodded. "Got it," he said, licking his lips again as his heart hammered excitedly in his chest. "Now what?"

"Close your eyes. Concentrate. Hard. Think about that animal. Everything. Bones. Muscle. Fur. Feet. Eyes, Ears. All of it. Concentrate and imagine yourself in that body."

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He imagined himself, sitting on his haunches before the fire, his long ears flicking with every snap and pop from the fireplace. His tail flicked behind himself slowly while the rest of his muscles held quite still beneath his black coat. Green eyes with slits down the middle hid behind his lids and soft, bean-like pads cushioned his feet, no his paws against the rug he sat on.

"Yes, yes!" Sirius exclaimed from the floo network. "Keep concentrating, you've almost got it!"

Harry resisted the urge to open his eyes and look, but instead focused on the warmth washing over his fur covered body. The warmth soothed him to his core and his chest felt like... Oh, yes! He imagined himself purring, not too loudly, but in a gentle, cooing sort of way.

"Well done, Harry!" Sirius said at last. "Look at yourself!"

Harry opened his eyes and stared down at his slim feline body. His eyes widened and he stood up, turning this way and that to look himself over.

"James Potter's son, indeed." Sirius smiled up at him, much closer and larger than a moment before. "Go on now, out through the passage behind the armor, near the portrait. You know the one. Your father and I used it many times to go sneaking out to chase girls- ah, that is until Lily stole his heart." Sirius winked up at him and smirked.

"Don't be out too long, you need your rest for the next challenge." Sirius closed his eyes and his face melted away, leaving only the glowing embers in its place.

Harry stared down at the fire for a moment, then turned and trotted toward the armor he knew hid a secret passage that only the Marauder's Map could see. His paws made no sound on the stone as he rushed behind the armor's pedestal and slipped through the recessed stone hidden by the large wooden base.

To his surprise, he could see in the dark passage beyond as well as he could in the dimly lit Gryffindor common room! He bounded out onto the moving staircases and climbed the steps two at a time. His paws never made a sound, but-...

"Oh my, a lost cat!" Nearly-Headless Nick's voice called overhead.

Harry paused and stared up at the ghost peering down at him. Right, he was quick and quiet, but he wasn't invisible.

"Probably that Longbottom again. Boy is always losing track of his pets," Nick said, shaking his partially severed head. "I will have to remind him to keep you in a box next time I see him, wont I?" With a good humored chuckle, Nick started to flat away. "Or maybe I should tell Mister Filch."

Great, that was exactly what he needed. Filch coming and putting him in a box until who knew when! Harry turned, bounding up onto the floor where the prefects' bathroom was.

For that matter, maybe he ought to look out for Mrs. Norris. She had a knack for sneaking up on them when they were skulking about. And he understood how! His paws barely made a sound as he trotted down the corridor.

As he rounded a corner, he stopped. Light was coming from one of the doors ahead. It was the prefects' bathroom! He trotted forward and peered through the crack barely omitting light into the dark corridor beyond.

He couldn't see anything! The crack was narrow, only wide enough to peer at the wall to the left of the door. Fleur had been crouched in the opposite corner. Very carefully, Harry pushed his nose into the crack and nudged it open. Little by little, the door eased wider until his body could slip through the tight space.

Harry turned this way and that, but he stopped mid-step and his green feline eyes widened. Standing in the clear water, Fleur was completely naked! Her Beauxbatons attire had been cast aside. More curious still, so had her egg.

The beautiful quarter-Veela girl stood in the water, lifting it in her cupped palms to trickle it over her pale, slim body. Every time the droplets raced down her smooth, naked skin, she quivered and gave a little moan.

She stared down at her modest bust through half lidded eyes and gently cupped the warm water against the swells, squeezing and massaging the moisture into her body. When her hands came away, her pink nipples stood on end, as firm as quills.

She pinched her nipples, twisting lightly. Harry's legs nearly buckled when she gave a small, barely audible squeal. Her hands slid down along her smooth, taut belly to her thighs. Through the clear water, Harry could see her groin was devoid of any hair only a moment before one of her hands obscured her delicate petals.

Fleur's knees gave out at nearly the same time Harry's did. With a gasp and a high moan, the slender girl collapsed into the water. Her body quaked, sending ripples in every direction as she pulsed her fingers into her obscured nethers.

Harry felt his groin grow tight and glanced down between his hind legs. His black, furry sheathe was thick and the tip of his pink malehood was starting to emerge. Chewing on his lip in a very uncatlike way, he turned and rushed back toward the door.

He slipped out into the hallway as Fleur let out another drawn out squeak. Her sharp intake of breath rushed after him as he rushed down the hall and rounded the corner. He spun about, staring around the stone pillar back down the way he had come at the open door. His chest heaved and his mind fogged.

She had been playing with herself, pleasing herself in ways he'd only just recently started imagining when he looked at girls! He heard her little noises filtering through the crack in the door, reaching out and calling to him, beckoning him back to watch her pleasure herself and touch her naked body for him.

But he couldn't. He needed to find out how to solve the riddle of the egg, not find out how Fleur liked to be touched, as tempting as that was.

He turned around and froze in place. His back arched and is fur stood on end. Halfway down the corridor, between him and the moving staircases, sat a tabby cat. At first he was afraid it was Mrs. Norris, but it wasn't. It looked somehow familiar, but he couldn't place where he'd seen it. It just sat there, watching him. It never moved and never blinked.

And by the way it smelled, it was a she. A she cat. And he was a he cat. A he cat who was getting very aroused by what he had just seen and heard in the prefects' bathroom. Harry watched her for a moment then started toward her.

Still she didn't move as he approached. Her hazel eyes considered him, watching almost boredly as he drew closer and closer. It was only when he started trotting her direction that she stood up and took a few steps away from him.

She paused and looked over her shoulder, as if expecting him to get bored when he realized she didn't want him to get too close. Instead, Harry had only been given a target. Animalistic urges were whispering in his mind, urging him forward. His eyes locked on the slit beneath her tail. He dashed after the tabby, a hunger the likes of which he had never imagined taking hold.

The tabby realized only too late what Harry had in mind. She tensed and tried to run, but Harry was upon her. He pounced on her and together they skidded over the smooth floor until they finally came to a stop.

The tabby growled beneath him, hissing and snarling as he grabbed the scruff of her neck between his teeth. The same urges that were drowning his own thoughts must have been taking hold of the tabby. She lowered her chest onto the stone floor and folded her hind legs beneath her, hiking her rump up against him as her tail swept to the side.

Harry knew what to do next. He wasn't sure how he knew, but he did. He pressed his hips forward, nudging the tip of his arousal against her body until he felt himself press into warm, wet flesh.

He snarled against the tabby's neck in triumph and thrust his hips forward. He plunged his arousal into the tabby's pussy, pulling his sheath back and spearing his sensitive flesh into her. Her hot flesh clamped down on him and he growled deep in his chest. Fire erupted inside of him and he knew he had to have more!

He drew his hips back, drawing himself out of the tabby. She yowled loudly and he saw colors swim before his eyes as her flesh seemed to cling to his appendage. Not cling to him, he realized as he plunged back into her smoothly, he was clinging to her, unwilling to let his hips pull himself out of her!

Instinct drove him forward. He thrust against the tabby beneath him mercilessly. Each time, bright flashes of color erupted in his vision and electricity and heat rushed through his body. Then he felt it. He'd masturbated before, sure, but this was somehow different.

Everything was coming to a head, and quickly! He felt all of the electricity and fire in his body rushing toward his groin, building and threatening to explode throughout himself again. It was far more intense than his palm had ever made him feel!

He wasn't sure who this tabby belonged to, but he was sure he was going to give them a litter of kittens to take care of. Harry drove his hips against the tabby tightly as he felt his climax rush through his appendage. His hot, sticky pleasure rushed into the tabby's belly and she yowled again, struggling with a renewed vigor. But he held her still.

As his climax subsided, he drew himself out of the tabby, making her yowl one last time. He felt her body quiver beneath him and her canal quaked, gripping at him tightly as he withdrew.

Slowly, Harry dismounted the tabby and his senses began to return. He shook his head, shaking away the primal urges that threatened to take hold. He stared at the tabby who laid belly down on the floor, quaking and shaking in the aftermath of what he did. He couldn't help but wonder who she belonged to. He knew with the utmost certainty he'd seen that cat before. But he didn't know where.

Before the urges pushed him back onto the tabby, he turned and sprinted toward the moving staircase.

He leapt down the stairs six and eight at a time. His feet carried him confidently over the marble steps and around the seemingly random turns until he came to the fat lady's portrait. She was asleep, snoring loudly of course.

Harry didn't bother waking her. He slipped through the small gap behind one of the stone pillars nearby and disappeared into the unopened secret passageway. When he came back into the Gryffindor common room, he launched himself onto the nearest sofa.

When he landed, he felt himself again. Tall. Bipedal. Wearing his robes. He clutched at his chest, shaking his head and trying to still his heart hammering against the inside of his rib cage.

He had just watched Fleur Delacour touching herself, frigging herself shamelessly in Hogwarts' own prefects' bathroom, albeit briefly! He just fucked some other student's pet cat! And he was still no closer to solving the riddle of the egg! He glared accusingly at the golden riddle and hefted himself up. He'd deal with that rubbish in the morning.

* * * * *

The following day, on the way to one of Harry's classes, he bumped into someone rather unexpected. As the body of students grinded to a halt on the stairs leading up into the castle proper from the courtyard below, a familiar face turned around, his eyes darting about as if suspicious anyone would overhear.

"You know, I never really thanked you properly for tipping me off about those dragons," Cedric Diggory said.

Harry shook his head, waving a hand dismissively. "Forget about it. I'm sure you would have done the same for me."

Cedric's darting eyes suddenly locked on Harry's, boring into his soul. "Exactly. You know the Prefects' Bath on the fifth floor?"

Harry's blood ran cold. Did Cedric know!? How could he? When he'd checked the Marauder's map, Cedric had been in the Hufflepuff dormitory! Maybe he didn't, Harry thought. Maybe Cedric knew about Fleur's nightly habits and was trying to get Harry to peep in on the Veela while she pleased herself?

"It's not a bad place for a bath. Just take your egg up there and...mull things over in the hot water." Cedric paused, his brow quirking as if some sort of revelation had just been passed.

"What?" Harry asked. "But, I'm not allowed to go in there and-..."

"Sure you are," Cedric said, his eyes twinkling mischievously. "Just take your egg with you."

Wait, Harry thought. Was that it? Was that the riddle? The egg had to be hot? Why not just put it in the fire? Maybe it had something to do with the steam...

As the other students around him pushed him forward, Harry momentarily forgot about Fleur and the tabby on the fifth floor. Now, he could only wait impatiently for the night to come so he could sneak back into the prefects's bath and see what Cedric was talking about...

* * * * *

Harry had won the Triwizard cup. But it was a victory he wished had never been forced upon him. Every challenge had been garenteed in his favor. The maze was rigged to let him win. But Cedric made it to the end. And so did he. They tried to win together, but in the end Cedric lost.

They all lost.

Voldemort had returned. He was back. Alive and as powerful as ever. Harry had barely escaped with his life and Cedric's body. He cried himself to sleep that night. And every night for a week. And that was when he wasn't looking over his shoulder, afraid at any moment Voldemort would be there to finish what he started fourteen years ago.

As the months rolled by, Harry started to worry less and less about Voldemort or Death Eaters. School was coming up again! He'd be safe at Hogwarts. His friends would be safe. Things would be getting back to normal. Sort of. Hermione had been correct, though.

"Everything's going to change now, isn't it?" she'd asked the prior year. And things had. Everyone was more subdued, looking over their shoulders with the same fear Harry felt.

But as they came into the great hall, a new murmur rushed over the students. Whispers and mumbling comments washed over them like a tidal wave.

"Look at her middle!"

"Merlin's beard, she's huge!"

"What do you think she ate?"

"Her and Mad-eye were probably shagging last year!"

Harry's eyes rushed about. Who? What was everyone talking about? Then his eyes scanned over the table at the head of the hall where all of the teachers sat. Each of them was standing, waiting patiently for the students to come in so they could begin the sorting ceremony.

Professor McGonagall stood beside Dumbledore, her hands gently folded beneath the enormous swell of her belly. Harry's blood turned to ice in his veins. His face paled and his jaw fell open. Instantly, he recalled where he'd seen the tabby before.

Their first day in Transfiguration class, that cat had been sitting on top of the desk at the front of the room. As some of the Slytherins and other Gryffindors had begun to goof off, the cat had leapt off the desk and instantly turned into Professor McGonagall.

And by the looks of things, she was carrying quite the litter! As she turned and pulled her chair out to take her seat, Harry saw exactly how enormous her belly was. She was exceedingly swollen. Triplets at least!

Harry stumbled into his seat when she made eye contact with him. She didn't say anything, didn't wave her hand, shake her head. Her eyes bore into his own, the same eyes that had watched him run down the hall to mount her.

There was no mistake. As her hands pulled her robes tightly over the swell of her belly, Harry knew without a shadow of a doubt that Professor McGonagall knew. He averted his eyes, staring intently at the empty plate in front of himself.

He barely heard Dumbledore's speech. He felt like he was going to be sick.

"Hey, you alright, Harry?" Ron asked, nudging him with his elbow.

"Yeah," Harry said, turning his head to look at Ron. But around that head of fiery red hair, he saw Professor McGonagall staring at him, unmoving and unblinking. "It's going to be a long year."