AN: I don't own the Harry Potter-world or its original characters, they belong to the delightful JK Rowling! However, some characters in this story are mine, I truly hope you like them.
Koshki Tanstorov: Literal translation on Google translate, to any Russian readers: sorry if any grammar is wrong! I don't speak any Russian myself. More information on the tribe will gradually follow as Harry learns about them. I'm still learning about these people, and outsiders are not trusted easily, so it may take a while before they tell me more about them.
It was September 1, and like any household with school going children, the Burrow was in a state of organized chaos. George had managed to oversleep, while Fred was being chewed out by the Fury that was Mrs Weasley for trying to sneak Fireworks into Percy's trunk. The result was a rather smoky prefect who was shooting death glares at his younger brother, while he tried to make little Ginny hurry up. The poor girl had a serious crush on Harry and was unable to function properly when the dark haired boy was in the same room as her. Last night, she'd frozen up when she realized Harry entered the room with Ron and because she had been busy pouring tea for her father, the cup had overflowed and scalding hot tea had landed on Mr Weasley's lap. Both father and daughter had turned a vibrant red, Arthur because his thighs had been burned and Ginny because she was embarrassed by the accident. Mrs Weasley had quickly cleaned up the mess and had given her husband a Burn Salve to heal the sore skin, all the while she had been talking gently to Ginny, saying that accidents happened and that the girl wasn't in trouble. Of course, the little redhead was mortified and had fled the kitchen as soon as possible.
Mr Weasley, in a rare moment of leadership, called out: 'Come now, kids! Everyone get in the car, we're leaving in two minutes!'
A mad scramble for the car later, everyone was comfortably sitting in the magically expanded Ford Anglia. Harry marvelled at the impressive bit of spell work Mr Weasley had woven into the old-timer. Somehow, everyone managed to fit into the car: Mr Weasley was sat behind the steering wheel, Mrs Weasley and Ginny were snuggled in the passenger's seat and the five boys were in the back. They barely managed to get to King's Cross on time though, as London's traffic was as hellish as ever. Quickly parking the car in a parking spot that suddenly popped up (magic was wonderful!), everyone piled out of the vehicle, grabbed a random trunk and hurried into the busy railway station. Thankfully, all kids managed to get onto the shiny Hogwarts Express right before it left for Scotland.
Deep in the taiga in Siberia, a meeting had been called after the Mother had seen the picture of the Weasley family. All dominant heads of the extended clans had been invited to come from their respective homes all over the world. Two members of the Jaguar family had come from the depths of the Amazon forests, their skin deeply toned and their hair reflecting the colours of their coats, a pitch black and a dappled brown. The leader of the African pride had sent his eldest daughter, her sandy coloured hair and heavy build a stark contrast to her slighter travel companion, a freckled member of the Cheetah clan. The last to arrive were the Leopard and Puma representatives, who never truly managed to get somewhere on time. They were quickly ushered in and given a seat close to the roaring fire, as most of the visitors came from much warmer regions. A silence settled over the gathered people, most uncomfortable with being in close proximity to another kind of Cat.
'As it seems that everyone is here, can you tell us why we've been summoned, Mother Tiger?' the Lioness, Sarabe, muttered. She didn't particularly wanted to stay in a place that could freeze her tail off, how the Tigers managed to live in this place was a complete mystery to her.
'If this has something to do with that moronic Julio traipsing around in New Zealand, we're off.' The black Jaguar hissed to no one in particular. The memory of one of their own leaving the tribe after destroying several of their homes, was something the South American Werecats still winced at. The leaving of a member of a tribe was shameful at best, at worst a condemnation from the other branches.
'No, no. It has to do with a child in Europe. We believe that a whelp might be hidden amongst wizards.' The melodious voice of the Mother sounded. A sudden massive roaring had the hut trembling on its foundations. All visiting members of the gathering had jumped up, demanding explanations and starting to call for bringing the little one home. The yelling and screaming for retribution against the wizards was silenced by the deafening roar of Yelena, who'd been standing at the Mother's side. Stunned, all heads turned to the annoyed great-granddaughter of the Mother.
'Listen before you act like a demented dog,' she snarled at the visitors. The fury showing in her green eyes was enough to have all other Cats sit back in their chairs, cowering mentally. While the Mother might have a pleasant disposition, no one underestimated her and her lineage. Both their physical and magical prowess was acknowledged among the entire species, making them excellent leaders and figureheads towards the outer world. It also meant that none of them should be crossed on important matters, least of all when it came to things like whelps.
'Thank you, dear. Now that you've all calmed down, you have failed to take this into account: we are not yet certain that the child is an actual whelp. The only evidence we have is this picture.' The Mother handed the picture to the Puma, who was sitting closest to her. The young male searched the picture with a small frown, only to widen his eyes when he saw the tiny child hiding behind a red headed boy. The green eyes were unmistakeably theirs. He handed it to the Lioness and waited for the others to realise the same thing. Each one who saw the picture had similar reactions. When the image was returned into the Mother's care, she looked at the gathered group, who blinked curiously back.
'I would like to know your opinions, is this truly a whelp of ours, or simply a human child with remarkable eyes?'
The emissaries looked at one another, seeming to come to the same conclusion.
'We believe the same, it must be a whelp. But how did he get there? As I understand it, there are no little ones missing right now.' Sarabe spoke. Several heads nodded in agreement.
'Some of you might remember the disappearance of Anoushka's whelp a few decades ago?' the Mother questioned.
Again, heads bobbed up and down, all remembering the tragic story of a young mother who'd fought off a group of hunters and lost her new-born child in the melee. The female had never truly recovered and died a few years later of a broken heart. The Cheetah's ears perked up.
'You mean that this is a whelp from that whelp? That Anoushka's whelp wasn't killed? That she grew up and had a whelp of her own?' He leaned forward eagerly.
'That is the only way I could explain how there is a whelp in England without us knowing about it.' The Mother answered.
'Then what should we do?' The dark Jaguar questioned, 'Simply go there and take him? I can't imagine that going well.'
'No, we must find a way to be certain that he is a whelp first. Only if that is known, is when we can come in contact with the whelp. We have no business with wizarding children otherwise.' Sarabe mused, her eyes locked on the dancing flames of the fire.
'And then do what? Take him and leave? Order him to come here?' the paler Jaguar interjected.
'Well, if he is one of us, he should be taught about us, right?' Yelena proposed 'Since it would be a violation of law to keep someone from their heritage, we could teach him and have him come voluntarily. You have seen the picture, he is tiny, thin and unhealthy. I don't believe he is really happy either. We should provide him with food, shelter and a family. He has that right as a whelp, he is part of the Koshki Tantsorov, he is our responsibility. The whelps are priority above and beyond anything else.'
The others readily agreed. As they would first have to find out whether or not the child was one of them, preparations were made for a group to travel to England. Yelena would be going as leader of the group, as the Mother was too old to travel such distances. Sarabe would be coming as well and the dark Jaguar, Armando, would accompany them together with the Puma, Jason.
'If he is a whelp from one of the other branches, we will send out a message immediately, so the correct branch can take care of the little one.' The Mother promised. As all Cats were related, all could take care of any whelp, but it would only thrive when it was with those it was closest related to. A Jaguar would be uncomfortable in the taiga of Siberia, while a Tiger would go crazy being exposed on the African Savanna, and so on.
'Now go, and may luck be at your side.' The Mother sent the team off to prepare for the journey through England. In a few days, the four would be off to Romania, where Yelena's lover could give them information on the location of the whelp, as he had been lodging with his family.
AN: that's Chapter 1 for you! Please review! (no flames please! If you want to give critics, do it in a polite way, thank you!) I'll upload the next one as soon as possible.