Title: Italian, ‘I Love You!’

February 14, 2020

Valentine’s day. Once again, the day of love.

Piérre was alone, unfortunately, and while he did have quite a few friends to lean on if he required them, he didn’t really have a full time buddy or friend that could hang out with him on every occasion. He had, unfortunately, not been formed with anyone that he was familiar with, just a boy who was quiet and oftentimes didn’t like Piérre energy. He usually ended up moving in with another close friend and leaving the enormous dorm just for the little Gryffindor to have at, and sometimes Piérre liked it that way.

But, being alone and a little homesick doesn’t bode well for anyone, let alone a person who relies on a companion to tell jokes to or talk to. Talking to oneself is often misinterpreted as a sign of madness... and Piérre was not mad, hopefully, even if he did bicker aloud with himself on a daily basis about how to go about things in his school and social life, things that could go wrong, and things he should have done differently. It wasn’t paranoia, it was perfectionism, something that at a glance someone may not think fitting of the messy and energetic other-house masquerading Gryffindor.

That was why Piérre, on an unfortunate/fortunate sick day where he couldn’t attend classes and probably shouldn’t have been around people in general, found himself attempting to sneak out of the school via the Floo powder in his own dorm room. He had had the powder imported from the Apothecary shop via owl the day before, having managed him money in a way that one wouldn’t have expected from the rather spendy first year. He had even had one sickle to spare, since the Floo could be used for a round trip!

He knew he was risking quite a bit, with Detention and the other consequences of sneaking out of Hogwarts, but in Piérre’s mind, if he was confined in his dorm for any longer, he was certain that he would absolutely go insane.

That was why he was now walking down the streets of Diagon Alley, dressed in his black coat that did not in any way denote his house or that he was even a student, having exploded out of a fireplace in the Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes and then sprinting out the door and into the street, much to the shocks of more than one patron and a few shouts of encouragement from fellow troublemakers. He was quite young looking for his age, even if he was taller than most, most people probably wouldn’t have questioned his presence other than the fact that he looked to be without a guardian.

There was a good amount of things that one could do with seventeen galleons on hand, all of them tucked into a satchel along with the remains of the shimmering green Floo powder he had used to get to Diagon Alley. Though he tried his best to hide his fact behind a green, yellow, and blue scarf, Piérre knew that his cheeks were red and his nose runny, signifying the fact that he was quite sick, even if he was not completely contagious.

Finding himself in front of the Magical Menagerie, Piérre gently pushed the door open, causing a little silver bell on the door to jingle to signify the presence of a potential customer. On the opposite side of the room, behind a counter and feeding a majestic snowy owl, was a smiling, elderly woman who seemed to be the owner of the store.

Piérre rubbed his hands together, a smile hidden behind his multicolored scarf. He liked owls, especially pale and beautifully speckled ones that would loyalty deliver letters and serve as a willing and kind compatriot in good times and bad.

Even though he did quite like owls, though, they didn’t seem to be Piérre’s type. They were flighty, a little more than stubborn, and seemed to share a consciousness that stated that they would be lawful and abiding by the rules, nothing like Piérre’s chaotic nature.

”Hello there, Darling! How can I help you today?” Piérre hardly noticed the witch speaking to him, so entrapped in his feverish thoughts and inability to think clearly. Noticing at last that he was being spoken to, Piérre smiled, pulling down his scarf a little as he aimed to respond.

”Hi! I was wondering if I could browse a bit? Do you have any playful animals?” He was a little stuffed up, but at least he was able to keep his words and general punctuality intact. Besides, that was what should come first and foremost when interacting with other people.

The witch smiled back as she put the owl to the side, letting the creature perch wherever she wanted. ”We do have playful creatures! What exactly were you thinking? We have Pygmy Puffs, they tend to be excitable and enjoyable to many kinds of people who enjoy a lovable and huggable partner.” The witch suggested, indicating to a few squeaking balls rolling around in their enclosures nearby.

Piérre crouched down on their level for a while, smiling quietly as he watched them nestle and play with one another, purples and pinks. Neither color was really appealing to the Gryffindor, unfortunately, and from what he seemed to remember about the rather charming animals, they were quite pricey. They were meant for those in the lap of luxury or for someone who was looking for a companion that could offer them happiness when it was needed most. Something that Piérre couldn’t afford.

So he had to do with something a little less, but just as enjoyable.

”You don’t happen to have any kitties, do you?” Piérre asked, holding back a sneeze and stifling it with his elbow.

The witch smiled reassuringly. ”Gesundheit. Yes, we do have some cats. Would you like to see some of them?”

Piérre clapped excitedly, ”Could I?!” He chirped happily, his voice rising into a falsetto. ”Do you have kittens?!”

The witch laughed kindly, nodding as an indication of yes, stroking the feathers of the owl once before leaving the counter and inviting the boy to the back room, no doubt where the animals were. Piérre nearly skipped over to the witch, clapping all the time as he pulled his scarf over his mouth as a sort of crude medical precaution.

Excitedly, Piérre followed the witch into the room, where he was met with all the animals. There were green and brown toads, pink and purple Pygmy Puffs, Grey, white, and brown rats and mice, owls galore, and several adult cats, all of them meowing and purring, some sleeping and some stretching as they extended claws and opened mouths wide. Piérre loved seeing their lithe bodies and their pretty coats, stripes, solid colors, browns, blacks, gingers, whites, and silvers...

”Actually, one of our Bengals kitted about nine weeks back. The kits are almost ready for adoption. You know it’s recommended that they stay with their mother anywhere between 8 to 12 weeks so that they can learn to cat.”

Piérre laughed a little at the remark about learning to cat. He knew what that was like. He acted very much like a cat himself, jittery, able to switch objectives on a dime, naïf, and quite agile and nimble.

And always prone to trouble.

”Here’s the queen.” the silver-haired witch said with a touch of pride as she pulled aside a curtain meant to offer privacy to those within. Piérre gasped as he almost squealed in delight.

There was a large mother cat, silver with black rosettes laying on her side, no doubt resting, breathing softly as her sides rose and fell. All around her, six kittens tumbled and mewled, tackling each other, rolling about and waving their tiny ails about as a sweet, helpful balances.

Piérre thought his heart was going to explode. ”Awwwwwww! They’re so precious! I want them aaaaaalll!” Piérre gently scooped one of the littlest ones up and rubbed between its tiny shoulder blades as it let out a tiny mew of complaint. After a few seconds in which the kitten could have been frightened by suddenly being scooped up, the kitten quieted down and a tiny rumble echoed in its stomach, obviously still unsure of how to purr correctly. The action only caused Piérre’s heart to melt even more as he picked up two others and held them altogether in his hands. ”They’re all sooooo cute!”

”I’m glad that you like them.” said the witch, stroking the queen’s head as she woke up and meowed once in surprise of seeing a stranger holding her babies. The queen seemed to be in a good temper, however, and all she did was close her eyes lazily and begin to purr. She knew humans well enough that she knew that her children wouldn’t be harmed. ”Do you want to pick one out, sweetie?”

”Awww... only one...?” Piérre almost cried at the thought of leaving five of them behind. ”I suppose... other people must want them too, right?”

The witch nodded and Piérre gently placed the three kittens that he was holding down in the nest again. ”That’s right. They’ll all find a nice home as well, but one of them will be lucky enough to be yours.” She smiled as she kept stroking the queen. ”It’s funny, though... I could have sworn that there was one more... oh!”

Piérre turned to look at her, only to find that she was staring at his back. ”Huh? What’s wrong, Miss?”

The witch tittered with laughter as she finally spoke her concern. ”Oh, pardon me dear, but it looks like you have a little briar on your back!” With steady hands, she reached for Piérre and took into her hands something that had been on Piérre’s back. When she pulled her hands back again to show Piérre what had been stuck to his coat, Piérre smiled wider.

It was a tiny, tiny, Bengal, only the size of his eleven-year-old fist, light silver and dark black, with half-closed blue-green eyes like emeralds, no doubt the color they would become when the kitten grew older. It was so pretty, and it had been on his back, as if it wanted to come with him.

”There he is, the little scamp. He’s the most playful of all of them, does this to absolutely everyone he runs into or whomever came close to this nest. Tendency to run off, I’m afraid.” The witch apologized, rubbing the mewling kitten, complaining as she was about to put him back with the rest of the nest. Before she did, Piérre piped up quietly.

”Could I please hold him, Miss?” He asked, pointing to the ‘scamp’.

”Absolutely. Here.” The witch handed the fist-sized kitten to Piérre and Piérre took the fluffball in both hands, holding it close to his chest in a warm hug. After a few mews of confusion, it quieted down, nestling into Piérre’s arms and making a small squeaky sound as it began to snore like a kitten does. With a huge smile, Piérre looked down at the bundle of fur and then back up at the witch.

He didn’t even need to express his thoughts in words, the witch was already standing and offering him to the door. ”Alright! I see you found your buddy! Well, please come with me and we can get you all signed and legalized for adoption!”

”Okay!” Piérre chirped, excited once again and completely forgetting the stuffiness he felt as he scrambled or his feet and bade the queen and the rest of her kittens goodbye. ”I’ll take good care of your baby, okay? And I’ll make sure that your brother has a nice life, okay guys?” Piérre said to the rest of the kittens and the mom before leaving and pulling the curtain to leave the litter in peace.

Entering the main room again, Piérre stood before the counter, still cradling the little runt in his arms. He just couldn’t get over how soft and delicate its body and fur were. One wrong movement, and he was sure that it would break into a million pieces like a baby. The kitten was his baby.

The witch began to take things out of nearby drawers and summon certain bags and items to herself. ”I always mention this to every new owner, but with cats, as they are adventurous, and especially with energetic Bengals like yours, the kittens need something to play on and with, so I’m sending you with a pouch of catnip, a toy to put the catnip in, a teaser wand...” The witch went on as Piérre cuddled with his kitten, explaining about how he should take care of potty training the kitten, how to feed and exercise it regularly, how Bengals act and what to expect from their companionship, and much more information that was more than helpful in Piérre’s pointed ears.

When the witch had placed all the items into a molskine, its expanded dimensions perfect for light travel, she rang up the total. ”That’ll be seventeen galleons, dearest.”

”Okay!” Piérre unhooked the belt at his hip and handed it to her, trusting her to find the seventeen galleons within. This was accomplished, and the witch smiled as she tucked away the seventeen galleons and gave Piérre the molskine bag.

”Alright. Once you get home, just put the bag here outside and an owl will come to pick it up and get it back to me. If you don’t remember, it’s alright, Silvy will make an effort to get in the house or rap on your window to wake you up if needed.” The witch indicated to the owl who sat on her counter. Piérre committed the thought to his memory. There were few things he usually remembered to remember, but this was one of those moments. He didn’t want anyone to find out about his little expedition to Diagon Alley until it was absolutely necessary.

“What will you name him, dear?”

Ah, a name. Just what any pet needed. A good name to signify a good, heartily life with an eager owner who would love and care for the pet, no matter what. In sickness or in health.

“He looks like a Figaro to me.” Piérre laughed. In his arms, Figaro yawned, curling up once again and licking its nose as he settled deeper into the young Gryffindor’s arms. Figaro. What an adventure. Piérre would teach him tricks, take him everywhere, protect him from every sort of harm... He would die to save his kitten.

The witch laughed with Piérre as she waved her wand. Around Figaro’s neck materialized a midnight black collar, sprinkled with silver pinpoints. Upon it was a pretty, golden badge which read in beautiful, handwritten cursive ‘Figaro’.

“Now dear, take good care of him. I’m sure you’ll have no issue, but it never hurts to remind a new owner. Be careful out there, and make sure you have some hot coco when you get back home! Get over that cold soon!” The witch called as Piérre made his way to the door.

“I will! Thank you miss!” Piérre waved, opening the door back to the frigid London air, a new light giddiness in his chest. A feeling of happiness. Of untainted love.

To keep his kitten from the cold getting to him, Piérre gently shifted the Bengal from his bare hands to his downy, black coat pocket, covering the kitten in a way that only allowed his soft pink nose to poke out of the pocket and allow himself fresh air, preventing any chance of suffocating. Swiftly, the black-clad Hogwarts student scampered through the streets, a tiny kitten in his pocket. As he went, he couldn’t help but poke his hand in his pocket from time to time just to make sure his newest child was doing alright.

“We’re going to have so much fun, Figaro.” Piérre said, softly stroking the kitten’s, thin, silky fur, “I can’t wait to be best buddies in Hogwarts. You’ll love it there. And you’ll be able to cause as much mischief as you want!”

”rrrrmmmm?”

“Yeah!” Said Piérre, “And I’ll get a saucer of warm milk for you when we get home too! Very first thing!” Piérre ducked into the Wizarding Wheezes Shop once again, finding the fireplace and thrusting his remaining Floo powder into it and then jumping in headfirst, protecting his little friend with a hand.

”Figaro! Son qua.
Ehi, Figaro! Son qua.
Figaro qua, Figaro la!
Figaro su, Figaro giu!
Pronto prontissimo son come il fumine:
sono il factotum della citta!”

Translation (Italian):
Figaro! I'm here.
Hey, Figaro! I'm here.
Figaro here, Figaro there!
Figaro up, Figaro down!
Swifter and swifter I'm like a spark:
I'm the handyman of the city!

2,800 words

What animal do you wish to purchase: Bengal (cat, 17 Galleons)
What do you want to name it: Figaro
Is this a boy or a girl: Male
What is your pet's date of birth: Friday, December 13th, 2019

Congratulations on your new pet!