Own Harry Potter? I wish, honey, oh I wish.

Edited 07/07/17

Chapter 7: A Curious Visitor

Janelle tilted her head in curiosity, and bemusement. It wasn't every day that you had a cat scratch on your door, somehow activate the doorbell that was more than a meter up from the ground, and practically outright demanded to be let in.

The silver marked tabby simply sat there, coat groomed clean, markings around its eyes that faintly resembled glasses, watching Janelle with a startling intelligent gaze. Janelle had the feeling that she was being measured, but what for, she didn't know, and why from a cat, she hadn't a clue.

Janelle looked down both ends of the street. It was void of anyone, much less a child or teen looking for their lost cat.

Its tail twitched, and Janelle scratched her cheek and tilted her head questioningly. "Would you... would you like to come in?"

Janelle knew very well that she was talking to a cat, and she knew very well that it couldn't – shouldn't – possibly understand her, but she asked anyways. The tabby gave her a look, and she felt as though she was being scolded by a teacher, as if she'd done something naughty in class.

Shaking her head free of those thoughts she lifted a foot and cracked open the door some more, letting it gracefully slip inside. Janelle closed the door and slowly followed the curious cat. She lifted a hand to her mouth and watched the cat barely flinch as she called, "Harry! Come down, it seems we have a visitor today!"

Something thudded, Janelle guessed he had jumped from her bed, and then a stampede was heard. "O-oy! No running down the stairs!"

The footsteps slowed but they were still considerably fast as they trotted down the stairs. Harry bounded into view, his green eyes just barely peeking over the railing and his round glasses, the ones that he'd gotten just a month ago and was already sporting a small piece of tape around the middle, knocked slightly askew as he leaned up.

Harry was a quiet boy in the face of newcomers and stranger, and perhaps would forever be one, as no matter what Janelle did or exposed him to, he still liked to hide behind her for comfort. Only, this was a cat, so the moment his eyes landed on the tabby, he gasped and stumbled onto the landing, arms out and ready to grab the poor girl.

Janelle quickly placed a gentle hand on his chest, "If you surprise her you might scare her away, Harry."

Inwardly she doubted that. The tabby hadn't moved so much as an in inch as he basically ran down stairs. The intense look in its eyes hadn't a single glare of wariness or caution, if anything Janelle was pretty sure it was curious and expectant.

"Whose is it?" Harry whispered. He was finally able to pronounce his words clearly at the ripe age of seven.

Janelle shrugged. "No clue, she hasn't got a collar on her or anything."

Harry frowned. "A stray?" and then those green eyes lit up. "Can we keep her?"

Janelle shook her head, wincing slightly at his face fell. "Don't think so, her fur's all clean and groomed you see? Besides, she's only here for a visit." Janelle paused. "I think?" she shot the cat a puzzled look, somehow feeling natural to do so.

It had been listening to them talk so intently, eyes never leaving Harry, tilting it's head every so often while she spoke with him. It was like it understood what they were saying, and it was starting to unnerve the eighteen-year-old.

The damned thing met her eyes before innocently licking its paws, treading its way carefully to Harry. It nudged his knee with its nose, even rubbed its head slightly as he giggled, and then calmly made its way back to the door.

"Does it have to go now?" Harry whined. "She just got here!"

Janelle sighed. "She's a cat Harry, they do what they want." And then she opened the door, received what must've been an approving look, and the silver tabby went on its way. Janelle simply watched, bemused again, scratching her head.

"How strange," she mumbled.

"It wasn't that strange," Harry said in the voice that usually meant he was going to go on a tangent. Janelle's lips quirked and ruffled his hair, urging them back upstairs.

"–I mean, the snake was stranger - I think it was a snake, or a big worm?" Harry blew his cheeks out, thinking hard.

Janelle paled. "Snake?!"

Harry smiled brightly. "In the backyard!"

She squeaked. She'd rather the cat, hell, even those owls that sometimes came by were better than a snake.

"H-Harry, haha, I think maybe we shouldn't play in the yard, okay?"

Bless his heart, Harry looked seriously confused. "I guess...? Then, scrabble!"

Board games were good. Yes, safe. Despite her seven years of exposure, Janelle was still a little out of it when it came to bizarre events that seemed to not directly link to Harry. She could handle coloured blocks and randomly burnt marks on her carpet. But a talking snake as he was informing her about at the very moment? Give her a few years, maybe, and then try asking her.

"So... can I get one?"

"What, a snake? No."

"Next year then?"

Janelle sighed but couldn't resist smiling. "Maybe."