Written for QLFC Round 4 [Tornadoes, Chaser 3]
(main) write from a pet's perspective about an adventure.
(dialogue) "Who's a good boy/girl?"
(word) pillow
(word) preposterous
thanks to shay, paige, sienna, and vic for betaing!
And I may or may not have borrowed the name Algernon from Kristina (cgner) and Sarah (GhostofBambi) and Algernon rightfully belongs to them.
Let's say, for the purposes of this fic, Algernon is a very intelligent cat. Meaning he knows human terminology.
~1981~
Algernon stares at Harry.
Harry stares back.
It's the staring contest of the ages, the deciding factor of who will get the last biscuit in the biscuit tin. It will destroy the house, rock the world to its core—
And then Harry reaches out and runs his chubby little hand through Algernon's fur, and he melts, arching into his touch, and consequently breaks his stare.
Harry grins toothily, and his other hand extends to dip into the biscuit tin and pull out the last biscuit.
And then Algernon, midway through a purr, realizes his mistake and retreats, hissing, but Harry doesn't seem to care, chewing noisily.
It's preposterous. Harry cheated, and he fell for it. And Algernon is annoyed at himself for having his guard down and being outwitted by a human. A young human.
So he stalks away to curl up on his favorite pillow in the sitting room to sulk, very, very insulted.
He's drifting off to sleep when something clicks. His ears perk up and he lifts his head a few centimeters, sniffing the air. He freezes.
It smells like danger.
A man strides in, a man reeking of filth and crackling with energy. He's bald and has chilling red eyes and no nose. He has a long stick in his hand, ramrod straight and smelling of wood. It's white and looks like bone.
It's a wand.
Whatever it is, Algernon doesn't like it. Something tells him that this man has bad intentions, that he means evil, his victorious smirk being a telltale sign.
Well, he won't make it very far if Algernon has something to say about it. He hisses, unsheathing his claws, and lunges towards the man.
He misses. His claws shred the edge of the man's robes, but it does not hinder the man.
It's then that James comes sprinting into the hall.
"Lily, take Harry and go! It's him! Go! Run! I'll hold him off!" James shouts, all in one breath. Algernon sees that he has no wand.
He shuts his eyes. He can't watch. It's too painful.
Even after closing his eyes, he can still see the bright green flash through his eyelids, hear James fall with a resounding thump, and hear the man laughing with triumph.
He cracks his eyes open. He can hear Lily screaming from upstairs and see the man gliding towards the stairs and he prays that Lily, at least, had the sense to grab a weapon.
He soundlessly follows the man up the stairs, avoiding the creaky steps. The man pauses at the top and chuckles quietly to himself, sending shivers down Algernon's spine as dread swiftly pools in his gut.
Lily has no wand on her either.
The man easily pushes through the flimsy barricade and his lipless mouth curves into a smirk as Lily turns round from the crib, her eyes beseeching.
"Not Harry! Please, no, not Harry!" Lily begs. "I'll do anything!"
The man's smirk transforms into a frown. "Stand aside, you silly girl… stand aside now."
"Not Harry, please no, take me, kill me instead!" Lily persists desperately. "Not Harry! Please… have mercy… have mercy…"
Algernon knows what's going to happen before it does, and he clamps his eyes shut, unable to bear watching it for the second time.
The man shouts something, there's another green flash, and Lily's body hits the ground, leaving Harry with no other shield.
Oh no, not Harry…
Algernon has to do something. He can't just stand on the sidelines now, watching as the rest of his family is killed.
-1980-
"Who's a good girl?" The redheaded, big-bellied (presumably pregnant) woman claps her hands, cooing. He looks up at those luminous eyes of green, compelling him to come her. Except there's only one problem.
"Er, Lily, I think it's a boy," the man with black hair corrects her.
"No, James, I'm pretty sure it's a girl," "Lily" retorts.
"Look at the nametag," "James" insists. "Does 'Algernon' look like a girl's name to you?"
"It could be a girl's," Lily counters, inserting her finger through the cage. Algernon eyes it with reverent curiosity.
"Excuse me." A woman comes striding towards them, her eyebrows furrowed and her lips stretched in a thin, stern frown. "What do you think you're doing? You're not supposed to put your fingers through those bars!"
"Sorry, we didn't know," Lily apologizes, exchanging a look of surprise with James.
"It's for your safety," the woman continues, and for the first time, Algernon can see the gleaming badge pinned to her shirt. "We have them locked in cages for a reason, so that they won't try to attack you."
"We understand," James replies calmly.
The woman huffs. "Thank you."
She turns to leave, but James cuts her off. "Excuse me, ma'am, but we were wondering about something. Is this cat," he gestures to Algernon, "a boy or a girl?"
The woman studies him and James holds her gaze, unflinching. Finally, she replies, "It's a boy."
"See?" James glances triumphantly at Lily. "I was right."
Lily rolls her eyes.
~1981~
The cloaked man advances on Harry. From just outside of the room, through the crib's bars, he can see Harry's chubby face peering upwards, a curious expression etched on it. Except now, the circumstances are drastically different.
Harry's life is on the line, hanging by a thread. He seems to realize that now, as his face scrunches up into an expression of distress. Fat tears start rolling down his cheeks.
Algernon can't move. He's rooted to the ground (literally: his claws are snagged in the slightly threadbare carpeting) and his heart clenches as the man raises his wand.
Harry releases a wail. The man hesitates for a split second, and during that split second, Algernon hopes. Could the man actually have some mercy in his heart?
He hopes too soon, the man shouts, there's a third blinding green flash, and time slows.
Algernon hears both cries at the same time, as the curse ricochets off of Harry and strikes the man directly over his heart. Both monster and baby scream, a gut-wrenching sound, and Algernon cowers, pressing his body against the door frame to brace himself.
And then, it's all over. The man is still, his limbs splayed out on the ground, and his face is frozen in an expression of terror and shock. The entire room is obliterated, shards of wood everywhere. Algernon can see the night sky through the cracks.
Algernon is shaking. His fur is on end, his claws are still digging into the carpet, seeking purchase to steady himself.
He can't find it.
Now he's at a loss. Should he flee? No doubt more of his past owners' kind of people, mostly their friends who also have wands, would show up soon. He doesn't want to be around when it happens, to witness their sorrows. He won't be able to bear it.
So it appears that his sole option is to run.
But first, he has to say goodbye.
Harry's tiny fists are clutching the bars of the surprisingly intact crib as Algernon takes care to skirt around the man's and Lily's lifeless bodies, strewn on opposite sides of the room like ragdolls. It makes him sick.
He reaches the crib and pokes his nose through the bars, mewing an anguished farewell.
He doesn't know if he'll see him again.
It's been a while since he ventured out of the house. He has rarely set paw out of the front door, because he had never really needed to go outside. All of his needs have been available for him inside.
Leaves crunch under his paws as he belly-crawls to the edge of the groomed lawn, wary. He glances around for more of the suspicious, hooded figures, but there are none in plain sight, so Algernon takes a risk and darts across the street, his rotund belly a dead weight and hindering his run.
Once he's safely hidden behind a tree, he regroups, fighting back the agony collecting in his heart.
His stomach growls. He hasn't had anything to eat in hours. Normally, he's fed and sound asleep on his pillow.
Now, his next mission is to find some food.
Little does he know, he's about to embark on the adventure of his life.
~1983~
He's been wandering the streets for almost two years, yet no one has looked twice at him, which is a good thing, right? He's trying to maintain a low profile, to go unnoticed.
However, it doesn't stop the loneliness from engulfing him. He hasn't been properly petted, bathed, loved for a long time, and it's taking a toll on him. Yes, some of the kids on the street do play with him and it's gets his hope. Maybe he'll finally find a family for keeps.
But that hope is always crushed.
One day, he's scavenging through a heap of garbage in the back of an alley, searching for scraps of leftover food, when he hears the click-clack of heels behind him. Next thing he knows, he's being scooped into the air. He wriggles furiously, but the person has a vice-like hold.
"Aw, aren't you just precious," a female voice croons. "Digging through a pile of rubbish for food. You must be a stray."
She runs her hand through his fur and Algernon fights back a snarl. No one just touches him without permission, but he's trapped in the arms of this woman and hence, can't do anything about it.
Her hand snags in a knot in his fur—it's been ages since he had sat down and properly licked himself clean—and he winces, hissing.
"It's all right, kitty," she says, misinterpreting his resistance as pain. "We'll get you all cleaned up, and then we'll sell you to a willing owner."
Sell. He's not some litter box or some toy to be sold! He's a living, breathing cat.
He fights harder, writhing violently and trying to unsheathe his claws. He would give this woman a shredding she would never forget.
Except that that woman seems to have anticipated his vehement reaction and gracefully shifts him to one arm, cradling him, and reaching into a sack with her other hand and withdrawing her wand. Algernon freezes.
She's one of them.
~1993~
He's been living in this hellhole for a long time, for more years he can count. The Magical Menagerie has kept him fed and sheltered, but no one wants him. Who would? His sleek ginger pelt is streaked with grey, he's scarred all over from his perilous adventure, having confronted several misbehaving branches and brambles.
He can see fragments of his reflection in the bars of his cage, and he does not look like the handsome cat he'd been—frankly, his younger self would not have recognized his current self.
He's curled up in the corner of his cramped cage when the bell jangles as the front door is opened, allowing in a gust of autumn air. He doesn't bother to look up, but from the light footsteps he can tell it's a youngster.
Most likely, if the trend of disgust and rejection continues, he'll be guaranteed another miserable day in this den of despair.
He hears the footsteps coming towards him, but not an inkling of hope springs within him. He knows that they are going to pass him, ignore him in favor of adopting a well-groomed, good-looking pet.
And then, the footsteps stop in front of his cage.
Sheer disbelief causes him to open his eyes. A girl with voluminous hair and cheery cocoa eyes is gazing at him with silent awe.
He lifts his head a little more out of sheer curiosity. The girl looks harmless, unassuming, and in her eyes is warmth. Warmth for him.
He hasn't felt that in a very long time.
The mousy old woman who feeds the animals everyday totters up. Algernon wrinkles his nose; she always smells of something repulsive.
"Find something you like, dearie?" she squeaks.
The girl nods. "I want him," she answers confidently, bobbing her head, and Algernon is proud that she already knows his gender from just a single look.
"All right, then," the woman says and stumbles away, perhaps to retrieve the owner.
The girl smiles, sliding her finger through the bars. It's smooth, unmarred, and Algernon is hesitant at first, but he gently paws at her finger.
This girl is acceptable, he decides. Maybe she can offer him something that's he's been longing for the last decade.
A home.
It's late and everyone's asleep. Darkness blankets them all, and no one is stirring, not even a rat.
(The rat makes him uneasy, but not because he's hungry. He knows there's something suspicious about it; he can smell it.)
Except for Crookshanks. His belly is rumbling and he keeps shifting around restlessly,
He knows that Hermione has set up a place for him to eat in case he's in the need for a midnight snack.
He pads down the steps, taking care to avoid the brittle ones. He can smell the food; it's so close…
...and then, another set of footsteps starts down the stairs behind him and Crookshanks becomes rigid out of pure instinct.
What's he afraid of? There's nothing dangerous in this house, nothing that will physically harm him.
He continues his journey forward, his ears perked up and listening to the steps following him.
"Lumos!" someone says and a blinding white light ignites, startling Crookshanks and nearly scaring him out of his fur.
He slowly turns around.
The wielder of the light is Harry.
He's cageless now and he couldn't be happier.
But nothing prepares him for the sight awaiting him outside.
Harry, bespectacled and messy-haired and smiling and chattering away with his friends. Harry, his eyes emerald like Lily's yet looking like a carbon copy of James.
Harry, all grown up.
Algernon—now renamed Crookshanks—stares at Harry, his mind thrown for a loop. It's too good to be true.
Harry gives him a smile. A crooked smile, just like James's.
And Crookshanks falls.
"Hey there, buddy," Harry says softly as the cloud clears from his eyes. "Can't sleep either, can you?"
Crookshanks cocks his head to the right and the two are locked in a battle of the ages—the fate of the world decided on its outcome—and nostalgia crashes over him, almost overwhelming.
No adventure would have been worth Harry's traumatizing youth. Except for this.
2400 words
Written for:
Southern Funfair - Hedge Maze - (item) pillow
Writing Club
Char App - 25. (Plot Point) Raised by someone other than parents (bonus)
Disney - C1. Snow White - Write about someone running away.
Showtime - 1. Alexander Hamilton - (plot point) making a fresh start
CYB - W3
Also written for the Hunger Games Training Round - Optional Prompt: "What do you think you're doing?"