Journey into the Wizarding World

Chapter 5

"What pet do you want, Robbie?" Daddy asked.

We stood in the building that housed the assortment of magical pets. I scanned the range of owls, dogs, cats, toads, and what not. It was hard to read the cursive words as I squinted desperately seeking for some meaning in the language. Cursive wasn't a strong suit but when it came to Arabic writing, it just came naturally to me being able to read it. I shifted my head toward Daddy.

"A cat." I said.

"A kneazle cat?" Daddy asked.

"If it's a maine coon cat," I replied. "yes."

"Why not a owl?"

"Getting a kneazle cat is planting roots and having someone take care of the rats around me."

"A owl hunts and eats rats. Owls are naturally faster at delivering messages. But a cat can't do that."

"Daddy, argumentatively, can cats magically find who they are intended to send a letter to?"

"Never heard of a cat doing that."

"Or a dog?"

"Never heard of a dog doing that, either. And think of the poor cat. Alas, if you choose a cat and need to send a owl then you can use Hogwarts's owls."

"That is a amazing journey come to think of it."

"Don't even do it. Think of the poor cat!"

"I am, I am." I laughed and giggled and snickered and cackled. "I am finding it funny for a grumpy cat to willingly cross the ocean, paddling against the waves, avoiding the sharks, boats, and whales, with the letter in tact." I looked toward the kneazle cats that had either missing ears, missing limbs, or a missing tail--- "I call dibs on this one!"

I picked up one of the kneazles that were black with piercing blue eyes, a layered mane around the neck with pointy ears, stubby tail, and a back that was raised up quite stiff. It almost reminded me of a small lion that had been bred with the domesticated cat quite successfully. The cat's eyes stared back at me quite passively and I stared back feeling a hundred times more elated than I had before. The cat reminded me of cats that were commonly found in Indonesia that I had been fortunate to live alongside in my childhood until my parents moved to Baghdad. I flung the cat along my shoulder and turned toward daddy.

"What are you going to call it?"

The cat mewed and I took another look back at the eyes of the cat to spot a distinctive scar along the right side of the face that spread about standing out in such a eye that was quite sore, painful, and horrifying. I grinned at the scar on the cat's face then snapped my fingers as the name came to mind. If the cat could wag their tail then I sure it would be waving from side to side.

"Scarface!" I announced. "Scarface!"

Daddy took out some galleons and handed them to the person beside him then was handed a slip of paper and a pen.

"I will get the paperwork." Daddy said.

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I spent my first evening organizing my Hogwarts belongings tucking them into the closet with Scarface perched on my shoulder. Once, the closet was a place that I saw a packed place full of junk I would never use or see again, once that was a very long time ago. My closet that I had lost was empty -- unlike this, it was partially empty with coat hangars, boxes of winter gear and what not -- back in the land of the dreary. The box of Hogwarts gear was labeled appropriately then set about with the lid on top. I took out the card that Gerald had given me then set it on the counter, contemplating; some young Witch or Wizard might need a referral. I should keep it.