Round 2: The Magical Menagerie – A Life in Three Acts

The Magical Menagerie: This is where the cat, half-kneazle, we know as Crookshanks' life began, but thankfully not where it ended.

Act 1

Crookshanks was born on May 1, 1981 in a back room of the Magical Menagerie. He stayed there for a month and a half and was then bought by one Sirius Black as a present for his cooped up friends on July 12. From that point on, this lovely cat was known as Robin. James Potter, new owner of the aforementioned cat, had recently seen the movie "Robin Hood" – thanks to his wife Lily – and the name had stuck.

The small kitten was a welcomed addition to the small family, with baby Harry liking to feel the fluffiness and softness of the cat's fur. Lily Potter took great joy in having her son sit on her lap, with the kitten curled up on his tiny legs. She knew it wouldn't last for long, as Robin would grow faster than Harry.

This resulted in the cat quickly maturing, while Harry remained little, young and rambunctious. Once he had overcome the novel softness of the cat's fur, he had realized, that Robin was a living being. Which meant he would run away when chased. Harry took great joy in chasing and being chased. He was one of those babies that ran away as soon as they could walk, as well as grabbing at everything in reach and putting it in his mouth. A normal baby like every other.

Except, of course, for the accidental magic.

For what made Harry special was the fact that he was a wizard, just like his parents and their friends. So, of course, no one was surprised, when Sirius Black – his loving godfather – gifted him for his first birthday with a small, magical, flying broom. Lily was outraged and scared for her baby's safety. James, however, was grateful his son got to play with something fun and not solely educational (his wife's wish) and was slightly proud — that his son was already flying! What a great Quidditch player would he be in a few years!

Robin hated that flying broom. Where Harry had been too young and too slow to catch him before, he was now more than fast enough and caught up with him even on higher places he hadn't been able to reach before, like the sofa. It was a serious problem.

So it came that one day Robin was lying on the sofa, when the obnoxious little kid known as Harry Potter once again flew around on his toy broom. He was laughing loudly and squealing and Robin really wanted to sleep. He felt like a parent, always giving up free time for his kitten. Were cats able to sigh, he would've sighed non-stop.

On this particular day, however, Lily Potter was very busy in the kitchen. James Potter was doing who knew what in the back yard. This left Robin alone in supervising the baby. Harry was flitting around the room, being happy, when he spotted the fluffy cat on the sofa. He had learned over the last month that when you moved towards a particular spot, the whole flying contraption moves towards that spot. So little Harry moved towards the ball of fluff, not really sensing just how fast he was approaching it.

Robin had been watching him warily; he was used to Harry coming, but this time he had nowhere to go, as the toddler was already almost on top of him.

This was the cat's first accident and how he got that little scar, just at the far right side of his belly. Lily heard the crash, a child's wailing and a cat's meowing in pain and came running. She found her son sitting on the sofa; his toy broom was broken and one small piece of it was sticking out of their cat's fur, the spot slowly losing blood.

It was only one of many wounds the cat suffered from. Those that came after, however, were never by someone he liked and cared for. For Robin was put back in the Magical Menagerie when the Potters died on October 31, 1981 and their son Harry was swept away to some other place. Minerva McGonagall had found him, curled up in one corner of the burnt down house. She felt pity at this sight and decided to put him where someone else would be able to buy him: the Magical Menagerie.

Act 2

Robin stayed for long years in that place. Wizards and witches alike had wanted to buy him, but never had he let them, attacking anyone who tried to take him away. They were simply not the Potters and would never be them.

He watched countless people buy animals and things for them. One time for example, he was witness to a small boy with mousy brown hair, slightly chubby cheeks, come in with his grandmother, in search of an animal. He was nervous, Robin could tell. The boy's eyes were wide and flitting from one side of the room to the other any time an animal made a sound.

In the end, he bought a toad. Trevor, he called her. A strange boy, the cat decided. He reminded Robin of a kitten: at first, hiding behind his mother during their first time outside of their birth place, before slowly becoming more and more accustomed to the surroundings and curiously watching anything and everything. Robin watched scenes like these a lot.

He became friends with a white snow owl. Sadly, she was bought by some big brute, but she always came back to him, whenever she could. It was a strange friendship, that of an owl and a cat. They couldn't talk to one another and Robin was its natural enemy, but somehow they got along anyway, occasionally even cuddling up the owl came back, she smelled somehow familiar, like home. It was very soothing to Robin. He liked her even more than before for it.

Then one sunny afternoon, two years later, a witch about thirteen years old, accompanied by two young wizards her age, entered the Magical Menagerie. There was something about one of the boys who came with her. She was the one who wanted to buy him, but the boy – black, messy hair, so much like the cat's late owner, and green eyes, so much like his wife's – was the one Robin recognized. This was their son, Harry; his kitten! He was not small anymore, no longer a kitten, but he smelled the same.

So Robin let himself be bought by this girl. He knew they were friends, so wherever she went, he would go, too. He was right. That same summer, he met the owl outside of the Magical Menagerie. Harry had named her Hedwig. Robin – or now Crookshanks, as he begrudgingly accepted – thought that the name suited her.

The girl, Hermione, liked to talk to him — just the way Lily Potter used to do. She was muggleborn, too, and liked the same things that Lily liked. She talked about Harry. Told him all the things that had happened while he had been separated from his kitten. Crookshanks vowed to himself he would protect Harry no matter what from then on. Starting with getting him away from that traitorous rat.

Act 3

Crookshanks knew Peter Pettigrew. How could he not? The man had come over lots of times, back when he had still lived with the Potters. He had played with him and Harry, talked to Lily and James and Sirius. (Sirius: The one who had bought Crookshanks; the one in whom the half-kneazle would forever be thankful, for bringing him to his family.) So he found Sirius and helped him enter Hogwarts, then the Gryffindor common room. He helped catch the rat. That was not as easy as he would have liked. The stupid boy, Ron Weasley, one of Harry's friends, was always there, keeping that traitorous rat from him. At least he had managed to wound him a couple of times.

He was angry, though, that Pettigrew had managed to escape that night. It had partly been his fault, but keeping the kids from the werewolf had been priority number one. Traitorous rats could wait.

Following that night, Crookshanks liked to spend time with Sirius. He knew he didn't recognize him. Crookshanks was old, even for a half-kneazle, and the last time Sirius had seen him he had still been but a kitten. He couldn't be mad at him for not recognizing him.

Sirius liked him anyway, even without knowing him for who he was. Sirius Black was always good for a cuddle, a scratch behind the ears or on his tummy. He was warm, familiar and home, just like Harry. So whenever Harry and Sirius were together and both scratching him … well, that was heaven to Crookshanks.

Two years later, Harry and Hermione came back from some expedition changed people. They were troubled, sad; Harry even more so. Sirius was gone, Crookshanks realized. It made him sad and angry that another part of his family was gone. But he still had Harry – and now Hermione, who he had come to like very much. He would keep Harry safe.

Just that this time he could not simply chase a rat and everything would be okay. This time, his family was troubled by different things, things he could not really help them with. It was incredibly frustrating. Crookshanks could do nothing, but offer consolation with a cuddle and watch. Watch them get hurt, watch them being pulled back together, watch them break down again.

Then they were gone. For almost an entire year, he did not see them. Crookshanks did not know if they were okay or hurt or – the worst fear – dead like the rest of his family. Even Hedwig, his only animal friend had died.

Finally, after some big event, where everyone had gone away, leaving the house empty, they were back. Hermione and Harry, that is. Remus Lupin, another person of his family, had died at this big event – a battle, Hermione had said. Apparently, whoever had killed the Potters was now dead and gone. No one would be a threat to his left-over family anymore.

Five years later, Hermione married the stupid boy that had kept the rat from him. He still did not like him and the feeling was mutual. So Hermione gave him to Harry. He was back with his kitten. Only now, though, Harry was the one with kittens. Two of them were already playing around. One was the age Harry had been when Crookshanks had first become part of the Potter family.

Harry's wife was a redhead, too. It was oddly familiar. The two babies even looked a lot like Harry had back then, too. He had a family once again; a real family and not the broken, patched together one he had had before. Crookshanks started over with them.

He watched Lily Luna Potter come home for the first time with her tired mother and proud father. He became once more – or lots of times – victim to little kids on toy racing brooms. This time however, he got to watch the whole childhood. He was there, when they were put on the Hogwarts Express. They did not need him anymore.

On May 1, 2017, at the age of 36, Crookshanks Robin Potter died happily in his owner, Harry Potter's arms.

The Magical Menagerie: This is where the cat, half-kneazle, we know as Crookshanks' life began, but thankfully not where it ended.