This isn't much, just a little piece of dribble I wrote ages ago. I just thought it would be nice to include Mrs Figg and her cats for once.
Harry hated the place. It smelled like cabbage and there were horrible, old fashioned floral patterns on everything, and Mrs Figg was obsessed with cats to the point where Harry questioned her sanity.
"Here, Harry, this is Snowy, my first kitten, I got him when I was only a girl," Mrs Figg said fondly, shoving a photograph of what looked like a big ball of white fluff under Harry's nose.
"Oh, he's uh... white," said Harry, unsure of what to say when little old ladies showed you pictures of their cats. He had already seen Paws and Fluffy and Pebbles.
"Yes, yes," said Mrs Figg, picking out another photo. "This is Mr Tibbles, you know Mr Tibbles, Harry. This was him as a kitten."
Mrs Figg gave the photograph of Mr Tibbles to look at. Harry stared at it boredly.
Harry blinked, he had to now question his own sanity.
Had Mr Tibbles the cat just blink back at him?