The Ginger Cat (pictures included!)
written by Lizzie Scamander
Crookshanks never thought he would be chosen and given a home. But he finally got one. And who should buy him? Hermione Granger.
Last Updated
05/31/21
Chapters
5
Reads
1,012
When She Came
Chapter 1
People misjudge. Being scrutinized means being judged, and no matter how many protestations may arouse at that proclamation, I still believe in my opinion and conclude it as honest and true. People, in the experiences I have encountered, primarily tend to judge upon physical appearance, and so that was a considerable disadvantage to me, for who was going to select a fluffy, orange, flat-faced creature, when sleek, handsome furry toms were an option? Mental observations are best, for there one's personality may be analysed, and a proper idea of one decided. Though hasty decisions are not good - knowing someone for a while and then judging is best.
You may be surprised to know that these musings are coming from a cat. Yes, a ginger, half-kneazle, trapped in a Magical Menagerie, eagerly awaiting the day when someone would pick me. But so far, no one had. And no one probably would. As I mentioned before, corporeal judging is common, and I was not attractive, in that sense. How pitiful I was, sorrowfully and dully dwelling in my cage, absently watching customers come, buy an animal and then, disappointingly, leave. I would never get chosen.
But then she came. And changed everything.
It had started as a casual, normal day - nothing particular about it that captured my attention. I saw her come in, accompanied by two boys, one red headed and the other dark. I eyed them inattentively - they were nothing but the normal customers coming and going - and not selecting me. I merely licked my paw, and out of my yellow, fierce gaze, watched them. Then I froze. For I had discerned a scent on the air. A rat.
At this moment one of the staff workers of the shop approached and opened my cage, bearing one of my daily meals. Before they knew it I had leaped out. I didn't intend to land on the red headed boy's head, but I did - yet this barely distracted me as I swayed precariously on his head, and, out of sheer desperation to keep my equilibrium, dug my claws in to help keep my balance. The boy was yelling and I leaped off.
The girl caught me. I wriggled objectionably at first but then looked up into her empathetic gaze and calmed. The red headed boy was still angrily shouting before they walked out of the shop, pursuing their apparently "pet" rat which had run off, that I had been chasing. The girl, meanwhile, was fondly stroking me and smiling as she cradled me in her arms. I loved this affection. I had never experienced such before. I rubbed against her affectionately and she turned to the woman at the counter.
"That one's been there for a while," the woman remarked. "No one wanted him."
"Oh, the poor thing," the girl said sympathetically. "I'll take him."
The woman smiled, and while the girl paid for me I continued to eye her admiringly. Her curly tresses bounced about when she moved, and her large front teeth displayed the lovely smile that had immediately charmed me. She smelled nice, and I trusted her. And she was to be my owner! She was so kind and feeling toward me, commiserated with me, and now she had bought me, for she was walking out of the shop.
