Pre-OotP Author's Note: In Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, when Harry is woken in the middle of the night by a vision of Voldemort, he looks out his window. "As far as Harry could see through the darkness, there wasn't a living creature in sight, not even a cat." At the end of the book, we learn that the crazy old lady in his neighbourhood, Mrs. Figg, she of too many cats, is actually a witch and one of the people Sirius is sent to with information of Voldemort's return. Perhaps Harry is so accustomed to seeing cats outside his home because Mrs. Figg's cats are helping her protect him. Here are some events in Harry's life as witnessed by Arabella Figg.
Post-OotP Author's Note: Well, JKR threw me a curve. Arabella's cats DO help her keep an eye on Harry, but she isn't a witch, she's a squib. I never did finish this story, but unless I massively rewrite it, I never will. Rather than send it into my computer's tiny trash bin, I thought I'd share it—in all its unfinished glory—with you.
The Witch of Little Whinging
June 1991
A deep, vibrating purr woke Arabella. It was the sensation as much as the sound, for the cat was lying upon her chest. She wondered briefly, which of her feline alarm clocks had the honor this morning. Too light to be Tibbles, too heavy to be Buster, Rowena and Felix had spent the night outside, so it was either Mr. Paws or Luna. She opened her eyes to meet the unblinking gaze of the furry weight on her chest. Pale blue eyes, not golden yellow, were staring back.
"Good morning, Luna."
Luna stepped off gracefully as Arabella moved slightly and then sat up. The pure white cat stopped at the end of the bed, leaned back to stretch her front legs, and leapt off the four-poster, barely making a sound as her paws hit the carpet.
"Show off," Arabella grumbled. "You know perfectly well I can't move half as well as you." Arabella threw back the covers and stared down at the plaster cast encasing her right leg. "I can't believe I let them take me to a Muggle hospital. Eight weeks hobbling around in this stupid thing. They could've mended this within a minute at St. Mungo's." She sighed heavily as she carefully guided her leg and the cast off the edge of the bed. "Oh well, when in Rome…"
A peach terry cloth dressing gown lay at the foot of the bed. Arabella pulled it on and tucked her wand in the right pocket. She brushed away a few stray cat hairs from the sleeve. Tibbles's and Buster's ginger hairs blended in perfectly, but the white, grey, and black hairs of the other cats stood out clearly.
Arabella chuckled to herself as she scratched behind the ears of the grey tabby now standing on her pillow. "Remember the time Mundungus came for a visit, Mr. Paws?" The cat flattened his ears to his head and hissed softly. "He didn't mean to make all of your fur disappear. He was just trying to get rid of the cat hair in the living room." The cat hissed again. "He wouldn't have done the spell if he had realized you were behind the sofa—and it did grow back, didn't it?" Mr. Paws sat down and scratched under his chin with his front paw. "Yes, I remember how itchy you were while it was growing in. But do you remember the nice catnip plant he sent you as an apology? Hmm?" The cat stopped scratching, looked at Arabella appraisingly, and leapt off the bed.
Arabella grabbed the crutches propped against her bedside table and struggled to stand. "Alright, everyone, breakfast time." A slight tug at her waist caused her to look back at the bed. A ginger tabby kitten had the sash of her dressing gown in his teeth. "Let go, Buster, or we'll never get to the kitchen."
The kitten released the sash with a small "Mew" and a flick of his tufted tail. Luna and Mr. Paws led Arabella down the hall and into the kitchen; Buster followed behind, occasionally swiping at the dangling sash as it swung back and forth invitingly.
An enormous ball of ginger fur was the centerpiece of the kitchen table. "Down, Tibbles! I'm barely speaking to you as it is. This broken leg is your fault, you know."
Tibbles calmly sat up and looked disdainfully at Arabella as if to say, "I disagree." He walked slowly to the edge of the table, jumped down quite gracefully for his size, and went to his dish to await his breakfast.
Arabella summoned the cats' bowls from the floor in order to fill them. "Yes, I know. I've been doing quite a bit of magic lately. But it's just too difficult to bend down to pick them up and stay balanced with these crutches. And if you," she gestured with a spoon at Tibbles, "even think of giving me that look, you can go hungry today. Not that it would hurt you to skip a meal.
"Now, Tibbles and Luna have patrol duty this morning," she said as she returned the food bowls to the floor with a flick of her wand, "and if either of you sees Harry, I want one of you to come home immediately and let me know." She filled the water bowls with fresh water and sent them to the floor as well. "Not one of us has seen that boy since last Saturday, and I don't like it, not one bit." She sighed heavily as she prepared her morning cup of tea: filling a small teapot with water, tapping it with her wand to heat the water, and spooning in tea leaves. "Something must have happened at the zoo." She placed the teapot on the table and carefully settled into a chair before summoning a teacup and saucer.
"Meow."
Arabella looked up at the sound and saw that Tibbles was waiting by the cat door for Luna to finish her breakfast.
"Run along, Tibbles. Luna will catch up. Not everyone inhales food like you do. Besides, the sooner you get to Privet Drive, the sooner Felix and Rowena can come home for breakfast.
"But what could have happened at the zoo? I had hoped that would be the one benefit of Tibbles tripping me and breaking my leg." She cast a baleful glance at the cat door Tibbles had just squeezed through. "Harry finally got to go somewhere nice for a treat." She poured a cup of tea and cradled the cup in her hands. "If Vernon or Petunia has laid a hand on that boy—" she broke off and smiled sardonically at the unmistakable sound of cats growling. "I'll turn them into rats and give them to you, my dears."
Two black cats with white markings entered the kitchen and went straight to their bowls. Arabella paid no attention, lost in her own thoughts. "Why Albus ever thought the Dursleys would be suitable guardians….Of course, given the circumstances….Damn you, Sirius!" At the sound of the name, every adult cat in the room fluffed its fur and hissed. Buster looked at the adult cats and then at Arabella. "Don't worry, Buster. Sirius Black is one Death Eater you'll never have to face. He's paying for his treachery in Azkaban."
Death Eater, now that was a phrase Buster knew. He arched his back and hissed like his companions. He'd remember the name Sirius Black as well. There was a reason each and every one of Arabella's cats was part Kneazle.
Purebred Kneazles would never do for Arabella in her present circumstances; they looked different enough from non-magical cats to attract attention. She could probably convince most of her Muggle neighbours that they were merely a rare breed of cat, but the Dursleys were another story. Aware that magic existed, and highly suspicious of anything "abnormal," they might mistrust Arabella if she kept a houseful of strange looking cats. Keeping the Dursleys' trust ensured that they chose her to mind Harry when they went out for the day or on vacation—and Arabella cherished those visits. However, Kneazle-cat hybrids suited Arabella perfectly. They looked "normal" enough for even the Dursleys. Well, Felix's and Buster's tails were a bit more leonine than most cats', and Rowena's ears were rather large, but overall, they passed for ordinary felines.
The true proof of their Kneazle heritage was in their keen intellects and in their ability to sense magic. Not only could each of her pets distinguish between Muggles and wizards, but they could also sense the difference between Dark magic and good. Arabella felt certain that if a Death Eater were to show up on Privet Drive, one of her cats would alert her immediately. She could remember only one time when her cats had completely misjudged a wizard.
"Poor Remus," she muttered as she struggled to her feet and began to prepare toast. "You were really quite horrid to him, weren't you, Mr. Paws?" Mr. Paws mewed plaintively and cocked his head. "Yes, I know it wasn't just you. Tufty, Tibbles and Snowy all took part in attacking that unfortunate young man." Mr. Paws mewed again. "I don't blame you. You and Tibbles were quite young, and you were just following the older cats' leads. They sensed Dark magic and didn't understand that in his case, it wasn't present by choice. And, I do have to give you all credit. Once I explained that I trusted him, you were all quite civil to him the next time he came to see Harry."
Arabella sat at the table and began to eat her toast as she thought back to her first year living on Magnolia Crescent. "Remus's second visit was his last." The grey tabby began to rub against Arabella's uninjured leg while purring, clearly begging forgiveness. "No, Mr. Paws, it wasn't your fault. I think it just caused him too much pain to see that the Dursleys didn't love Harry, and to know that he was helpless to do anything to make the situation better. If you really want to do a good deed, scratch out the eyes of whoever wrote that stupid law barring werewolves from legal guardianship of children.
"Well, I'm worried about that poor boy, and I'm not doing him any good sitting here. If neither Tibbles nor Luna has seen Harry by the time I finish dressing, I'm going over to Privet Drive myself."
-.-.-.-.-.-
The walk to Privet Drive was a short one, but it took considerably longer than usual due to the crutches. Arabella found herself desperately wishing that she could apparate there. However, she knew that she could not. One could disapparate away from the neighbourhood, but one could not apparate in, at least not safely. She shuddered slightly as she remembered the last time someone had tried. "Two legs and an eyeball—disgusting." Fortunately, only two Muggles had seen them, Petunia Dursley and a neighbour whose memory of the event was wiped by the Obliviators of the Accidental Magic Reversal Squad. Harry and Dudley may have seen them as well, but they were too young to remember.
As she turned the corner and caught sight of the Dursleys' house (she did not think of it as a home) Arabella paused briefly and patted the deep pockets of her favourite cardigan. Her wand was safely in the right pocket, and a Mars bar was in the left. She hoped to see Harry and give him the candy bar. "It's one of his favourites, and he could certainly use a little fattening up," but if she didn't see Harry, she might give it to Dudley. "Dudley doesn't need any fattening, but it might be a useful bribe to obtain information about Harry," she thought.
She saw Tibbles sauntering down the sidewalk to meet her. Luna was not in sight, but she was probably making the circuit of neighbouring streets. "Have you seen Harry?"
Tibbles sat down and stared at her. That was "No."
"Is Luna patrolling the outer perimeter?"
"Meow," said Tibbles. That was "Yes."
"All right. Go look in the windows of the Dursleys' house. Come back to me if you see Harry."
"Hurry up. I want to ride my bike now," Dudley whined. Arabella looked up to see Dudley and Petunia coming out of their house. Petunia was pushing a shiny new bicycle and had a camera slung over her shoulder.
"Coming, Duddy Darling," Petunia said cheerfully. Dudley grabbed the bicycle away from his mother and rode off without a word. Petunia began to take photographs. "Ride this way, Dudley. Mummy wants a photo of you on your new bike."
"Perfect," Arabella thought to herself. "I'll go over and apologize to Petunia for not watching Harry last Saturday, and I should be able to find out what happened."
Arabella began to hobble across the street, heading for Petunia. She saw Dudley riding directly at her, a wicked grin on his face. Undoubtedly, he wanted to scare her before swerving away. She started to fear that he wouldn't swerve away, but on crutches there was no way to escape. The front tire grazed the back of her cast a split second before the handlebars impacted her arm and a crutch. As Dudley's weight drove her into the pavement, Arabella just had time to wonder, "Which will be worse, a second broken leg, or a broken arm?"
"Dudley! Dudley! Are you hurt?" Petunia screamed as she ran over to the tangled mass of arms, legs, crutches, and wheels that was her son and Mrs. Figg. Arabella felt no pain for a few blissful moments, just a vague awareness of crushing weight as if a hundred cats were piled upon her chest. Petunia pulled Dudley to his feet and Arabella was able to breathe again. Gravel was biting into her cheek, a handlebar was threatening to impale her just under her ribs, and her broken leg was on fire. "You're sure you're alright, Duddy Dear? How about you, Mrs. Figg? Are you all right?"
"I'm not sure," Arabella muttered through clenched teeth.
"What an unfortunate accident," Petunia said as she disentangled Arabella from the bicycle. "Poor Dudley must not have seen you crossing the road." Arabella bit the inside of her cheek rather than respond. If she told Petunia that her precious "Duddy" had done it on purpose, she'd make Petunia angry and never find out about Harry.
As Petunia helped Arabella to her feet—Dudley was already off riding again, "No apology, of course,"— Arabella felt a wave of nausea threaten to overwhelm her. Her leg was throbbing with searing heat, and rest of her body felt clammy and cold. "As soon as I get home, I'm going to St. Mungo's," she thought. "I'll wear the damn cast for appearance's sake, but I want this bloody thing healed."
"I think I need to sit down," Arabella uttered between deliberately deep breaths.
"Oh, of course," Petunia murmured, glancing back at her house nervously. "Why don't you come inside. I'll make you a cup of tea." Petunia helped Arabella limp into the house and led her to a chair in the sitting room. Arabella noted that Petunia glanced at the cupboard under the stairs more than once.
"So, that's where Harry is," Arabella thought grimly. She knew from previous conversations with Harry that it was his "room" and that he was frequently confined to it as a punishment. "Don't tell me he's been in there since last week." Arabella found herself fingering the wand in her pocket as Petunia went to the kitchen to make the tea. "Rats. Petunia may be a bit stringy, but I'm sure my cats will find Vernon to be plump and delicious."
The pain subsided slightly. Her leg still throbbed in time with her pulse, but Arabella no longer feared that she would faint or vomit.
"Milk?" Petunia asked as she returned with tea things on a tray.
"Yes, please, but no sugar."
Petunia began to pour. "I must apologize for that little accident, but boys will be boys."
"Yes, quite true," Arabella agreed. "Speaking of which, I wanted to say again how sorry I am that I couldn't help you by taking Harry for the day last weekend. Did you find someone else to mind him, or did he go with you to the zoo?" Arabella already knew from her feline spies that the Dursleys had taken the boy, but it wouldn't do to reveal that.
"We—er, we brought him," Petunia began hesitantly, glancing toward the cupboard again and biting her bottom lip. "Dreadful mistake."
"Oh?" Arabella waited expectantly for more.
"Let's just say that he misbehaved terribly."
"Well," Arabella smiled knowingly, "boys will be boys." Petunia did not return the smile.
-.-.-.-.-.-.-
August 1993
"MIAOW! MIAOW!"
Arabella shifted instantly from deep sleep into full wakefulness as a cat cried out somewhere in her room. She sat up, straining to see in the darkness.
"Lumos!" The wand on her bedside table illuminated the room with pale blue light. Three cats stood stiffly at the foot of her bed, each staring at her and with a tail straight up in the air. A witch or wizard was nearby. "Dark magic?" Arabella asked as she quickly pulled on the boots she kept beside the bed. None of the cats were growling or hissing, so they hadn't sensed any Dark magic—yet. However, Arabella never took chances, and with Sirius Black on the loose— She grabbed her wand and ran toward the front door, snatching a Mackintosh off a peg as she passed.
"Lead me!" she ordered the cats running beside her.
