"Hermione!" Shouted the dark haired boy, for no apparent reason. I emitted a low yowl. I'm trying to sleep here! Obviously these buffoons don't think about how theiranimals might feel. Mental…
The Girl is opening my cage now. She's petting my ginger fur and pulling loose tufts away from it. Why bother?
'Ooh, look. There's that dog that's been hanging around here." I jumped off the girl and and trot over to the said Dalmatian nonchalantly. Bonjour, sir Randy.
The dog gives me the dog equivalent of a sigh, and a raise of his eyebrow.
Hello, Crookshanks. Glad to see you've rid yourself of that shop. That woman was always petting me with her sharps nails. He began gnawing at his leg, because of a mad itch he'd gotten. Bloody flea spray… All it does is irritate my fur. Now I'll have to rub some more filthy mud on that spot.
Oi! A voice sounded. I looked over. A white rat was sitting on the stool above us, waving his tail nonchalantly. Wazzup, fellers?
I snorted. This particular white rat I had known for years, and was owned by a wizard musician, if you could call him that. Rhyming and yelling to the beat of music isn't what, I, Crookshanks, would consider music.
Hello, Zim. How have you been?
Fine. The rat squeaked, abandoning his lingo. Who's this beast?
The Dalmatian looked up, and barked. Randy Dalmatian, at your service, Zim.
Bah, you can call me Harold. I tell you what, this Leaky Cauldron joint is kind 'o nice. Me and Philly should come here more often.
I ignored his bad grammar. Philly's with you? I said, perking up. Philly was a nice sleek male black cat, badly named for one of his social status. I had always thought of him as more of a Zephyr. The little rat jerked his head upwards. Philly was perched on the countertop, cleaning his paws.
Charmed.
Oh, goodie, now it's a party. Shall we? Snorted Randy, getting up on his gangly black and white legs.
Everybeast got up, or jumped down, and we cautiously made our way past the talking wizards.
"Oh, look, Crookshanks is off somewhere. I wonder where he's going?" I heard the redheaded boy say. "Who knows? Crookshanks is a curious cat." The Girl answered.
I certainly am.
We arrived at the crack in the wall, and Zim hesitantly placed his paw on the spot. The bricks immediately re-arranged themselves to be a small, animal sized door.
Lovely. Phyllis said, slinking through it, his skinny tail brushing the top. I followed him, stopping when we got inside. It seemed eerily quiet.
Don't get me wrong, but isn't this place supposed to be noisy? Piped up Zim. Yes, all the usual things were in place. All the beasts were scuttling about on the ground, or talking in the cages in the creature shop. The Humans were talking, and purchasing. But there were no other noises.
I've a curios feeling everybeast. I think we should take cover. I muttered, scampering over to a large upturned cauldron that was taller than two Great Dane's. This will do nicely. My ginger fur was bristling instinctively, and Philly cast a worried glance at me.
Are you all right, Crooky? Everything seems fine to me.
Just listen to me for once, Phyllis! I think something's up. I want you all to come underneath the cauldron.
The animals jumped to obey, and were soon hunched underneath the cauldron.
Aren't you coming, Crookshanks?
I flicked my tail at him, sliding it underneath his nose. No. I dropped the cauldron by knocking over the pile of books that was supporting it, and each animal let out a yelp.
Now, to find that stupid problem. Oh, look! A very blonde haired human boy was frantically shouting at a ministry wizard, annoying him.
"Filibuster fireworks! Seriously sir, I just bloody saw them! How many were there? Well, I dunno, there were about fifteen crates around this one big one. Of course I'm sure, I saw the fuse burning!" He was saying, his face a powdery white color.
Ooh, how nice. Fire—Fireworks? My hair puffed up and I whipped around, knocking over a flimsy broom stand with my tail. I paid no attention to it and squeezed through the nearly nonexistent crack being made by the books underneath the cauldrons rim.
Move! Crouch! There are fifteen crates of—
The familiar horrifying noise of fireworks began to whine through the street outside. I twitched my tail impatiently. Help! We're going to be trapped in here!
Hold the phone! Squeaked Zim loudly, pushing through the very confused Phyllis and Randy. If anybeast's going to get trapped in here, it ain't us! He pushed his body through the crack so rapidly that none of them had a chance to stop him. There was some wailing, screeching, screaming, but no cries for help. The fireworks noises could barely be distinguished form the cries of pain from the many creatures outside their cauldron haven.
Just before I was about to get into a hissing fight with Phyllis, who had been trying to brighten the mood by signing cheerful songs, the noises stopped. Followed by a sea of cursing from some human outside. It seemed he had gotten some undiluted bubortuber pus all over himself when a firework exploded a jar. And he hadn't been wearing that much. From the sound of it, it was the boy I had seen earlier; the blonde.
Randy tentatively lifted the cauldrons lid using his sturdy nose, and the three had quickly slipped out of the slightly larger crack.
It was a ridiculous sight. No one in their view was seriously wounded, but all of them had their eyebrow singed off and the tips of their hair burnt to a crisp. Many of the magical animals had escaped, but thankfully they were all just standing around looking very dazed.
"Crookshanks!" Someone yelled. I turned. The Girl was standing there, looking very white and clutching the arm of the red-haired boy. She let go and scooped me up, stroking me and petting me and soothing me.
See you later, Crooky! Chorused three voices. I twisted my head to look back while the girl clutched me to her shoulder. Zim was sitting on the cobblestone street looking very pleased with himself for some reason. His beautiful snow-white fur was scorched in stripes, making him look rather like a very small Zebra.
Goodbye, mates! I meowed, waving with my bottlebrush tail.