The Cat, The Witch, and The Rendezvous Point pv lynn

Dear Archer.

How an arbitrary first year Archer had never heard of had obtained his name, he did not quite know. Perhaps his involvement in the Headliner and the Viridian Vipers had truly propelled him into infamy. If not, then he should just be wary of a new stalker on his toe. Just after he had gotten rid of the last one via the ancient roman tradition of poena cullei…. He supposed he should pay tribute to his ancestors a second time, if Miss Evelyn Grinstone were to get on his nerves.

Yet, at least she was polite in her greeting. Bare minimum, but not a treatment he always received to those who knew him better. Wonder why.

How she had found Zeno was even more of an enigma. Although true that the cat explored the grounds of Hogwarts more than Archer did his social life, the orange tabby rarely found it appropriate to stay with anyone who had found him for more than a few fleeting hours. He reasoned that it was entirely possible his dearest companion would slink away from her grip just after she finished composing her letter, and sneak back to the common room, waiting for a kind-hearted Slytherin to let him enter. Half of them knew him anyway. Founders keepers was a notion completely irrelevant to Zeno’s existence, and Archer, proud owner of him that he was, preferred to keep it that way.

The only caveat was Matthew, but for now, as the bright spring days dipped into summer heat, he could tolerate Campbell.

A twelve year old, however, was much more of a stretch.

It was evident to Archer Duncan that Evelyn Grinstone either did not know much about his feline, or she simply did not respect his nature of ferocity. Having been deemed his cute, adorable, and mignon more times than Archer cared to count, it was Zeno who had a more visceral reaction to such comments than he did. Often, as if he had understood their comments, this involved jumping up, springing across the room, and scratching furniture if he was in a good mood, skin if he was not, immediately to showcase just how vicious the little ball of fur could be. More times than not, this resulted in comments from others saying he was even cuter than they had expected, and Zeno would fume in the corner, making his dissatisfaction clear with loud meows of complaint.

The offer to bring Zeno to breakfast the next day was not a malicious one, Archer decided, though it would only be valid if Zeno was still with this particular Evelyn Grinstone. Doubtful, he expected the cat to return to him this night, perhaps stretching into curfew and let in by the prefect on duty. He was friends, he could have proudly proclaimed, with all but one of the ones of his house. Even his more unfamiliar classmate, Kaitlyn, ought to have recognised Zeno just by the smudge of his fur. If he were to come back home tonight, he would be in good hands.

Yet the night passed, and Zeno still did not return into the arms of Archer. What treats did this witch of a girl have to keep his cat for as long as she did? Perhaps he would need to take up on her offer of meeting, not just to offer her some advice on potions or a survival guide as she had claimed, but to receive some for herself, namely, what in heavens’ name she was feeding him. He prepared himself for class with the usual carelessness, and informed his dorm mate he would arrive at the Great Hall early for an unexpected rendezvous. He was met with the raise of a brow, but nothing more. Perhaps Prat too had noticed the absence of Zeno, and wondered of his kidnapping as much as he had.

Finding Evelyn would prove to be a challenge as Archer stepped into the bustling chaos of the Great Hall. Put a thousand ravenous students in a room certainly came into wondrous fruition. He exchanged his sarcasm for a more fitting curiosity as he thought of strategies to find this mysterious first year, who did not even leave him a description. Recalling the sign off, he wandered in a careless stride towards the Ravenclaw table.

Zeno, standing out brightly amongst the students robes, was easy enough to distinguish. The girl who had held him captivity seemed to have been unworthy for the cat’s nobility. At least in appearance, she was achingly and stereotypically English. Young, short of stature, not anyone Archer would pick out from any crowd.

Zeno leapt into his arms, and Archer was glad he did not yet have any food in his hands.

“Thanks,” he offered to the girl in a cursory manner. “Would you like some advice to complete this transaction?”

@Evelyn Grinstone | banner by Adeline Spinks