The Life of Crookshanks
But Prinny had no intention of calming down. The up-roar reached a shattering crescendo…
"What on earth is all this racket?"
A man strode into the room - he was tall, solid, dark-browed and unflappable. He scooped Prinny up out of the wreckage of the cushioned bed, which he had been violently demolishing. The man held Prinny out at arm's length and gave him a slight shake.
"Stop this fuss at once," he said firmly, in the kind of voice he used for raw recruits on deck.
A fine cloud of talcum powder settled on the lapels of his navel coat. Lieutenant Nicholas Armitage looked Prinny straight in the eyes - deep sea blue met brilliant copper-gold, and locked instantly.
"This isn't Princess Mila," said Nicholas to Fiona. "This Persian has a wider muzzle, and look at those bright, mischievous eyes. It's younger, slimmer, healthier…and male."
Fiona smiled apprehensively. She put a hand of Prinny's fluffy marmalade fur to still the pounding of his heart. He immediately quietened, changing down gear to a lower tone. He was on her side, but he did not know what he could do to help.
"It's a long story…"
"I have five days leave."
"Well, you see, while your aunt was abroad, I somehow lost Princess Mila," Fiona confessed. She moistened her lips as she remembered the desperate days that had followed. "I don't know what happened. I suppose she got out somehow…I can't believe she was stolen. Anyway, I reported it to the police, and I went to every home for strays in London, but no Mila. If she had been run over, I'm sure someone would have found her and reported it. So I think she must have found herself a new home. But how could I tell your aunt, when she had entrusted Mila to my care? She would have fired me instantly."
"She would," Nicholas agreed, although his marine colored eyes flashed dangerously.
"Then, as it got nearer and nearer to the date of your aunt's return, I was nearly at my wits end. I decided I would have to find a replacement…a look-alike adult Persian to take Mila's place. And I found Prinny. The coat color was so similar, his markings, his expression…"
"But not the character," said Nicholas, stroking the now docile cat. Prinny looked anxiously up at Fiona.
"Did I do something terribly wrong?" asked Fiona, still stroking the soft fur. "They told me at the refuge that they would not have kept Prinny much longer. A month is the maximum, they would have put him down…" Tears welled up in Fiona's eyes. "What are you going to do?" she asked Nicholas. But he pretended not to hear, and strode out of the room.
Of course, Nicholas told his aunt when she came back from Harrods. Fiona heard raised voices in the hall, and put her head in her hands. Mrs. Armitage immediately fired poor Fiona. She was ordered to leave that day. The next morning, Mrs. Armitage ordered her nephew Nicholas to dispose of Prinny.
Prinny gazed up, as she saw Nicholas stride into the kitchen. He bent down, and swept Prinny into his arms, holding him painfully tightly around his stomach.
"Come on," he said, without a trace of emotion, and opened the front door. He carried Prinny down to the end of the road, and dumped him on the ground.
"Don't come back, if you know what's good for you," he advised Prinny.
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Prinny had been wandering the streets of London for several weeks. He had, unwittingly walked away from the rich area of Kensington Gardens, into downtown Soho. Living on scraps from bins, and sleeping in boxes, he had grown thin. He had many fights with other cats, trying to gain authority, or having a scrap over some food both cats thought they found first. The worst incident was with a huge grey alley cat, who fought him over some mouldy salmon that a restaurant had thrown away. Prinny, although large looking because of his expanse of ginger fur, was quite small underneath, and no match for the grey cat. He put up a good fight, but inevitably lost. The alley cat managed to scratch right through his ear, leaving a permanent slit down it. His fur grew matted, and he lost trust of humans all together.
Prinny was dying. He was starving, and tired, and had given up on survival. He had walked for so long, and in no particular direction that he had no idea where he was. He woke that morning, and wandered down the lonely street, passing mouth-watering smells wafting from fish and chip shops, humans bustling past. He knew he looked a sight, but he had given up caring. His once flawless red coat was tarnished, it has turned lack-luster yellow-beige through his bad diet, and was streaked with oil and dirt. His copper eyes had lost their sparkle, and gazed around blankly. The corners of his eyes were crusty through illness. Prinny wanted to die. He didn't want to live like this anymore, and all his energy had gone. Life was not worth living.
He paused outside a burger-bar, and curled up in the rubbish lining the London street. I'll just go to sleep here, he thought, and not wake up again. Prinny closed his eyes.
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Jonathon Croghan was on his way to work. He worked for the Ministry of Magic, as one of the Muggle Advisory Ministers. His job was to research the lives of Muggles, and this involved stepping out the wizarding world, and travelling around London, keeping a close watch on things. He was just heading back to Diagon Alley - he was staying at the Leaky Cauldron temporarily, so that he could research Muggle lives in that area, to grab a spot of lunch, before setting off again.
He was walking down the road towards the Leaky Cauldron, when the rubbish on the road caught his eye, and he looked down. The whole pavement was spotted with litter, and he shook his head to himself. These Muggles, honestly, he thought - and took a double take. The small piece of furry orange material by the door of the burger bar, was actually breathing. He inched closer. Poor thing, thought Jonathon. Looking both ways, he bent down to stroke the cat. He noticed its breathing was very shallow.
"Come on," he said, and scooped the cat up in his arms. He tucked the cat inside his jacket, and set off back to the pub.
Once he was in his room, he laid the cat out on his bed. What am I going to do with you? he asked himself. Jonathon took a saucer, and filled it with milk from the fridge. He put it on the floor, and placed a dish of cold sausages by it. Just in case, he thought. Out loud, he added, "I'll see you tonight, when I'm back from work."
Jonathon quietly shut the door behind him, and went downstairs to buy himself some lunch. Meanwhile, on his own, Prinny was coming round. The warmth in the room heated his stone-cold body, and eventually, Prinny woke up, and felt like he had been asleep for days.
This has to be a dream, he thought, with one eye open. The small, warm room, the fire in the grate…the smell of food?
Unsteadily, he slid off the bed, and smelt his way around the room, to where the sausages and milk were. Ravenous, he scoffed them down, and lapped the milk up messily, spilling droplets onto the floor, and splashing his whiskers and eyelashes with milk. Exhausted, but happy, he curled into a ball on the soft cut carpet, and fell asleep once more.
Jonathon arrived back at five.
"Come on puss, before they shut," he said cryptically, and picked Prinny up once more. He carried him out of the Leaky Cauldron, and across into Diagon Alley. Alert now, Prinny was watching with amazement, as he saw people in hats and cloaks crossing the street, little shops full of strange things, people carrying broomsticks, a man with a stall changing a kettle into a golden book and back again, and small crowd gathering around him. Prinny could not believe his eyes. I must be dreaming, he thought incredulously.
He looked up, and he saw he was being carried into a shop called Magical Menagerie. As they entered the shop, Prinny flattened his ears against his head. The noise was a cacophony of birds squawking, mice and rats squeaking, red and yellow Macaw parrots jabbering and snakes and un-identifiable green reptiles hissing.
Jonathon plonked Prinny down on the counter. Prinny gazed sideways, his mouth watering, at the black and beige rats in a glass case on the table next to him. He heard Jonathon speak to the woman behind the counter, and soon he was being lifted into one of the cages above the counter. He saw Jonathon give him a small wave good-bye, almost as though he was embarrassed.
The woman turned to him. "What shall we call you?" she said. "We'll have to get you cleaned up of course, scare the customers away with that greasy, matted fur…" she paused, and stood deep in thought. "Something rough…you look like a little villain, a crook…Crookshanks! Perfect!"
So Prinny became Crookshanks, and it was the first name he had been given that he liked. Crookshanks stayed in the Magical Menagerie for months. He learnt from other cats about the wizarding world, and ceased to be amazed at seeing things such as the rabbit turning itself into a top hat. His cat friends eventually were sold. He saw many animals disappearing from the shop, and he longed to have a home too. The witch was kindly, but did not have enough time to give him the attention he longed for.
One day, he saw three school-age children enter the shop. He took in one of them especially well, a medium sized girl with bushy brown hair, and large front teeth, and he knew she was the one for him. Having attacked one of the other children's pet rat, he saw the girl linger, and looked into her hazel eyes, pleadingly. He heard the hallowed words: "I'll take him, please," and knew life would never be the same again…
The End.