A/N: This is the Reserve Keeper from Falmouth Falcons writing for QLFC Round 4.
Prompt: Write about someone turning into a household pet (by choice or otherwise) and living as one for a while.
Thanks to Screaming Faeries, MoonytheMarauder1 and for looking through it!
Word Count: 1905 (+2 for the title)
Disclaimer: I have no intentions of making money from this story, so all the recognisable stuff belongs to J.K. Rowling.
Broken Healing
The first rays of sun filtered in through the window, illuminating the form of a young woman that was curled up on the bed, fully-clothed. The girl's body shook every few seconds, even though she had shed all tears she had hours ago.
Minerva lifted a hand to wipe her eyes as the darkness lifted from the room, sighing when she felt her glasses in the way.
She remained, unmoving, on the bed for a few more minutes, until she couldn't justify not getting up anymore. Even heartbroken, Minerva couldn't imagine lazing a day away in bed. She sat up with a sigh. As much as she wanted to believe last night had been a dream, she knew it was real and felt that it was about time to get over the moping. Putting on her slippers, Minerva made her way to the window.
She had picked this room, years ago, because it was the only room with a window that faced the east. As the raven-haired girl stared at the sun, she figured there were things even a Scottish sunrise couldn't couldn't fix.
An hour later, Minerva was making her way to the stairs with an intention to spend the day at her desk, reading a good book, when her mother called her.
"Minerva, will you be a dear and run to the market? We are out of greens."
The marketplace was the last place Minerva wanted to be at that moment, but she nodded mutely. Her mother smiled at her and went into the kitchen, only to peek from the door to say, "While you are at it, also get other groceries for the week. The list is on the table."
The girl searched for the grocery bag, put on her coat and left the house, feeling as though she were walking towards her impending doom.
The market wasn't very crowded, as the housewifes preferred to do most shopping on weekends. Minerva paid the grocer for the greens and fruits and was taking the turn to the butcher's when she spotted Dougal coming from the street ahead.
A few hours later, Minerva would berate herself for taking the next course of action. But right now, all the girl could think of was that she did not want the man to spot her.
Turning on her heel, Minerva crossed the grocery shop and ducked behind the empty little stall that sold pies in the evenings. Catching her breath, she peeked from behind her hiding place, only to find that the man was now moving in her direction. Minerva turned around and swore when she realised that this street was on his way home.
There was no place to hide, and Minerva absolutely didn't want the man to face her, so the panicked eighteen-year-old slid her grocery bag under the stall and turned into her animagus form.
The animagus leaped onto the counter of the stall. She jumped down on the pavement, only for one of her paws to hit a sharp stone. A yowl of pain escaped from her. She had managed to complete her animagus transformation very recently and still wasn't used to this form.
Unfortunately for the woman-turned-animagus, the man she had been trying to hard to avoid was in hearing distance, and ran to pick her up before she could recover.
"Poor kitty," he cooed, bending down to sit on the pavement. He touched her leg softly, earning another sound of pain from her. "It doesn't look broken, but I will take you home and bandage that up. You will be as right as rain in a day or two."
Rationally, Minerva knew she should leap out of his arms and run away, despite the sharp pain in her hind leg. But back in the arms of the man she loved—whose heart she had broken the day before by choosing magic above him—Minerva wasn't thinking at all.
That is why, an hour later, she found herself sitting on the soft rug of the McGregor household, as Dougal placed a bowl of warm milk in front of her. He scratched behind her ear for a few moments, and with a soft pat on her head, said, "Drink up, Minnie. You cannot hunt with that leg, and I couldn't possibly find you a rat, so this will have to do."
Had she been in her own body, Minerva would have grimaced. After bandaging her, Dougal had noticed that she had no collar on and had declared that he would keep her for as long as she needed to heal (and decide what to do later). He had also given her a name, and it didn't take much to guess where 'Minnie' had originated from.
Once the cat-animagus had finished lapping up the milk, Dougal gingerly placed her on a cushion near the hearth. "Sleep, sweet kitty. I have to work in the fields, but I will be back in the evening."
Minerva could hear the key turning soon afterwards, and a few minutes later, she started to get up from the cushion, only to let out a growl. The injury was worse than she had imagined.
Dougal returned home to find the cat he had brought home sleeping in front of the hearth. He couldn't help but smile.
Yesterday had broken him. He couldn't fathom the reason the girl he had fallen in love with had broken off their engagement without giving him a reason. She seemed happy when he had asked her hand in marriage, and had agreed before he could even complete the little speech he had prepared.
They hadn't talked much afterwards, so he was sure he hadn't blundered anything. But the very next morning, she had told him she couldn't marry him, that it wasn't his fault but she really couldn't explain it, and had left, leaving his heart shattered.
Today, though, he had met this innocent creature, and he felt a special bond between them already. The cat was special, he knew. He had certainly never seen a cat with square, frame-like marks around its eyes before.
He had named the cat in the memory of his lover, and he wished he would get to have the cat for himself even after its injury healed, even though he knew there was a distinct possibility such a docile cat belonged to someone else.
Minerva found she could finally walk, the next morning, so she left for home after Dougal had gone to the farm. She explained she had stayed the night at a friend's because of the injury, as she hadn't been able to walk much, and her mother accepted the explanation.
Soon after, she went to her room and curled up in bed once again, her mind going back to the image of Dougal staring at the ring she had returned to him two days back. When she had seen the tears in his eyes the night before, from her position on the rug in her room, her heart had broken all over again.
A book lay open in her hands, but not a single line was read, and soon, the black ink was soaked in tears that fell from her eyes.
Just as the sun was about to set, Minerva found herself turning into her cat form again and leaping out of her window.
She couldn't get over her sadness, knowing what she had done to Dougal as Minerva, but she could at least give him comfort as Minnie.
Dougal smiled at the cat as it sniffed at his boots when he walked in. "My hands are dirty. Let me get cleaned up first, Minnie!"
Soon after, he had the cat curled up on his lap as he sat in his armchair, relaxing after the day's hard work. The morose thoughts that had been plaguing him all day, reminding him of all he had and what could have been had Minerva not broken off the engagement, were gone. Dougal knew he had Minnie to thank for that.
That night, Dougal stayed away from the drawer that contained the ring his lover had returned, even though he wanted to hold it and cry about all that had been lost. Instead, he picked the cat up from where it lay curled on the rug and placed it on the pillow before changing into his nightclothes and slipping into his bed.
There were a few tears, Dougal wasn't ashamed of them at all, but he knew now that he would get over that.
The cat animagus ran all the way to her home, morphing back when she was in her room. She sat down on her bed, her heart heavy.
Dougal, sweet Dougal who had loved her all he could, was healing. The bad part was that he was getting attached to Minnie. Minerva knew she could just vanish, but she also knew that it would deeply sadden Dougal, and she didn't have it in her to break his heart twice.
With that in mind, she wrote a letter to a woman she had come to know in her years at Hogwarts—one she knew could help. After sending it off with her owl, she turned into her cat form and ran back to Dougal's house. He had mentioned taking her along to the market today, and even though Minerva couldn't think of a reason why someone would take a cat to the marketplace, she knew she had to get back to her lover's house before he finished his bath.
"Tara!"
The person had been calling out the name for a few times already, Dougal thought, as he strolled through the market. Saturday was always a busy day, though, bringing folks from nearby villages as well, and the woman could simply be looking for a lost kid.
He was, therefore, surprised when the woman tapped him on the shoulder as she repeated the name.
"Can I help you?"
The woman, who was in her early-twenties, bit her lip. "The cat. Tara."
"Oh," Dougal said, looking at the cat he carried on his shoulder. The cat's ears perked up at the name and it stared at the woman. "Is…is it yours?"
The woman nodded. "I'm staying at a friend's house. My sister brought her along to the market and lost her. I have been looking for her for days."
Even though Dougal didn't feel like it, he smiled at the woman. He had bonded with Minnie—Tara—so much in just three days. He couldn't think what the woman had been feeling at her loss. "That might be because it—she injured her foot."
The woman laughed. "Yes, she is a bit clumsy for a cat." As she held her hands out to take her away, Dougal let Tara jump into her arms. He felt the loss immediately, but didn't say anything. "Thank you, for taking care of her injury and for looking after her."
Dougal shook his head. "It was nothing. She is very special."
"That she is," the woman smiled. "Oh, I'm Pomona Sprout, it's nice to make your acquaintance." She balanced the cat on her shoulder and held out her hand to shake.
Dougal placed a kiss over her knuckles, even as he felt the hardened skin of her palms. The woman was surely a gardener.
That idle thought left his mind when the woman turned. As Minn—Tara stared over from her shoulder, Dougal couldn't help but raise a hand in farewell.
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