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A/N: For the Favorite Era Boot Camp. Prompt Cat. Don't ask me why I decided to write this.
Harry was staying with Mrs Figg once again as his family went to visit aunt Marge. Harry didn't mind being left behind by his family; aunt Marge hated him and he wasn't so fond of her; though he did wish that he was able to stay with somebody other than Mrs Figg.
She was nice; if not a bit strange, she would always show him pictures of cats that she had long ago. Harry was alright with cats; better than dogs, or at least aunt Marge's dog Ripper. But even so he got tired about hearing about one of her beloved dead cats.
Not only did so have too many pictures of her cats she also had live ones; they kind of freaked Harry out too; they would always lie beside or on him, and whenever he got up he got a lot of cat fur on him.
There was this one cat that Mrs Figg had that she called Princess; Harry thought that she was anything but; she would always stare at him with her bright yellowish-green eyes.
And whenever he went to the bathroom, kitchen, or even outside she would follow him. She would be the one that would lie on top of his lap; sometimes she would move her claws on him and scratch him. Mrs Figg would always tell him that was how you could tell she liked somebody but Harry strongly disagreed.
Sometimes Harry wouldn't mind being home alone; or even with aunt Petunia's mean friend Yvonne. Anywhere but at Mrs Figg's house.
Dudley and his friends would often call her the crazy cat lady and sometimes Harry wondered if he was right.