21 Jun 2020, 18:39
A study in purple
Angus leaned against the wall and stared resignedly at his watch's hands moving too slowly. If the watch wasn’t broken, the boy was here, at the Magical Menagerie already a full hour. On the occasion of the birthday, his friend could pick themselves a pet and decided to do it exactly when they agreed to go to the Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour. This place was supposed to be a short, maximum fifteen minutes stop. However, as usual in Angus’ case, things didn’t go as planned. The friend had a hard time choosing between cats: a Silver Siberian and an Egyptian Mau. The Gryffindor didn’t have an opinion; he was allergic so now, completely bored stood on the other side of the store. His back hurt immeasurably.
About half an hour ago Angus decided to look around since he was already there. Pygmy puffs were sleeping; they seemed kind of cute like that. The boy passed by rats and frogs indifferently; they just never appeal to him. He stayed near the owls for quite some time. Especially the Arctic Owl caught his attention: it was bigger than the others, looked majestic, powerful and generally badass. Still, not that badass to buy it.
The boy has never thought too much of having a pet himself. Correction: he thought a lot of having a magical pet like a bowtruckle, or a mooncalf. Animals that were more mundane but possible to keep, just didn’t speak to him that much. He was allergic to cats, owls couldn’t be brought to a library (technically, it applied to every animal but some of them were easier to hide), frogs were too slimy and rats would probably gnaw at pages of books, finally, pygmy puffs were simply boring.
With nothing more to do the Gryffindor returned to his place and once again leaned against the wall.
After another five minutes of insufferable boredom, Angus decided to hurry up his friend at least a little. The result could have been the opposite but at this point, it was worth to try. However, before he could take a full step towards them, the highest most annoying squeak came out of the pygmy puffs’ cage right next to him. Its broadcaster was probably the only one awoken purple pygmy puff in the middle of the cage. Angus and he looked at each other briefly. He's heard pygmy puffs before but not one of them sounded so... aggressively. The Gryffindor decided to ignore it but after less than two steps it squeaked even higher. The boy approached him, both irritated and startled, and looked directly in his eyes. The puff couldn’t try more to look innocent. Angus was struck by its appearance; his fur wasn’t as fluffy as the rest of these and in places it looked bald. It actually resembled him himself. No, he wasn’t bald, but they both looked a bit messy, like they needed a few extra hours of sleep and a lesson on how to look like everyone else. The Gryffindor smiled, not only in pity.
Angus made several more attempts to walk away from the puff. Whenever he was more than two steps away from the cage, it would raise its squeaky alarm. Apparently, for some reason, he must have liked the boy a lot and couldn’t stand the thought of separation with him. It was flattering, in a way. “Am I going to buy myself a pet because of your emotional blackmail?” Angus asked the puff that answered with a look of shameless confirmation. The Gryffindor sighed. “I’ll name you… Sherlock. It's from one of my favourite books, it will suit us. Nobody here will understand it but I guess that with your charming personality not many puffs get you already.”
Sherlock seemed content with that.
About half an hour ago Angus decided to look around since he was already there. Pygmy puffs were sleeping; they seemed kind of cute like that. The boy passed by rats and frogs indifferently; they just never appeal to him. He stayed near the owls for quite some time. Especially the Arctic Owl caught his attention: it was bigger than the others, looked majestic, powerful and generally badass. Still, not that badass to buy it.
The boy has never thought too much of having a pet himself. Correction: he thought a lot of having a magical pet like a bowtruckle, or a mooncalf. Animals that were more mundane but possible to keep, just didn’t speak to him that much. He was allergic to cats, owls couldn’t be brought to a library (technically, it applied to every animal but some of them were easier to hide), frogs were too slimy and rats would probably gnaw at pages of books, finally, pygmy puffs were simply boring.
With nothing more to do the Gryffindor returned to his place and once again leaned against the wall.
After another five minutes of insufferable boredom, Angus decided to hurry up his friend at least a little. The result could have been the opposite but at this point, it was worth to try. However, before he could take a full step towards them, the highest most annoying squeak came out of the pygmy puffs’ cage right next to him. Its broadcaster was probably the only one awoken purple pygmy puff in the middle of the cage. Angus and he looked at each other briefly. He's heard pygmy puffs before but not one of them sounded so... aggressively. The Gryffindor decided to ignore it but after less than two steps it squeaked even higher. The boy approached him, both irritated and startled, and looked directly in his eyes. The puff couldn’t try more to look innocent. Angus was struck by its appearance; his fur wasn’t as fluffy as the rest of these and in places it looked bald. It actually resembled him himself. No, he wasn’t bald, but they both looked a bit messy, like they needed a few extra hours of sleep and a lesson on how to look like everyone else. The Gryffindor smiled, not only in pity.
Angus made several more attempts to walk away from the puff. Whenever he was more than two steps away from the cage, it would raise its squeaky alarm. Apparently, for some reason, he must have liked the boy a lot and couldn’t stand the thought of separation with him. It was flattering, in a way. “Am I going to buy myself a pet because of your emotional blackmail?” Angus asked the puff that answered with a look of shameless confirmation. The Gryffindor sighed. “I’ll name you… Sherlock. It's from one of my favourite books, it will suit us. Nobody here will understand it but I guess that with your charming personality not many puffs get you already.”
Sherlock seemed content with that.
WC:629
What animal do you wish to purchase? Purple Pygmy Puff
What do you want to name it? Sherlock
Is this a boy or a girl? Girl (Angus doesn't really know about it)
What is your pet's date of birth? 30th of May
“sᴏᴍᴇᴛɪᴍᴇs ᴛʜᴇ ᴛʀᴜᴛʜ ɪs ᴀʀʀɪᴠᴇᴅ ᴀᴛ ʙʏ ᴀᴅᴅɪɴɢ ᴀʟʟ ᴛʜᴇ ʟɪᴛᴛʟᴇ ʟɪᴇs ᴛᴏɢᴇᴛʜᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ᴅᴇᴅᴜᴄᴛɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇᴍ ғʀᴏᴍ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛᴏᴛᴀʟɪᴛʏ ᴏғ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ɪs ᴋɴᴏᴡɴ.”
― ᴛᴇʀʀʏ ᴘʀᴀᴛᴄʜᴇᴛᴛ, ɢᴏɪɴɢ ᴘᴏsᴛᴀʟ
