J. K. Rowling owns Harry Potter

Chapter Four

Mark had never been to the cat lady's house before, nor did he know anyone who had. It was a place you just avoided, not because Mrs. Figg was dangerous or frightening in any way, but because no one wanted to talk about cats for hours on end. This time was different, though. He walked up to her front door and knocked immediately, glancing up at David as he did.

They had waited for weeks for Harry Potter to leave his house, to try and catch him on one of his neighborhood wanderings, to no avail. (Neither of them was foolish enough to ask for him at the Dursleys' house; everyone knew how much the Dursleys hated their nephew.) Last night they had finally given up on him emerging, and as there was no way either of them was going anywhere near Dudley, they had settled on Mrs. Figg as their next-best option.

She opened the door now, a tabby cat at her heels. "Good morning," she said, smiling at the pair of them. "Say hello to Mr. Tibbles!" she added, indicating the cat. Mark and David smirked slightly at each other, then said dutifully, "Hi, Mr. Tibbles."

"What can I do for you boys today?" the old woman asked, still smiling pleasantly. "Do you want to come in and see my other cats?"

"We- we- we wanted to ask you something," David said, very nervously.

"Yes?" Mrs. Figg half-said, half-asked. The silence stretched on. David had evidently lost whatever remained of his nerve, which annoyed Mark to no end. Did his brother have no backbone at all?

"We wanted to ask you about what happened in the alleyway with Harry Potter and Dudley Dursley a few weeks ago," Mark said in one breath.

Mrs. Figg stopped smiling. Her face was reddening, and she began to close the door. "I don't know what you're talking about," she said.

Mark had never heard a more obvious lie in his life. "We saw you!" he said, abandoning all caution. "You came in when Harry was putting away his wand thing and you made him take it out again! You knew what was happening! We saw the whole thing!"

Mrs. Figg froze with the door halfway open. "You saw what?" she asked.

"After Harry made that stag that chased away the monsters! You came! We saw!"

"I still don't know what you're talking about. Have a good day," Mrs. Figg said, and shut the door in their faces, the stupid cat meowing loudly.

"Nice job," David said scornfully, as they turned back toward the street, where a couple of passerby were looking oddly at them. "Now the whole neighborhood knows about this. Maybe they can help us figure out what it's all about."

"Good of you to help," Mark shot back, with equal sarcasm. "At least I could get a word out, you coward."

Mark had expected David to be shut down by this, but he replied calmly, "Better keep your voice down if you want the neighbors to think you're normal..."

This was a low blow; David knew very well how much he hated the slightest appearance of being different. Mark looked quickly up and down the street for anyone watching, shriveling inwardly. Had David not been six foot one and as muscular as their father, Mark probably would have punched him. (Then again, that wouldn't look too good either. Why did he always get himself into these messes?) As it was, he just looked at the ground and stewed, knowing that for once, his brother had soundly beaten him.

They walked home in icy silence, no closer to an answer than before, and neither of them saw Mrs. Figg stick her hand out her window and release an owl into the sky.

Author's Note:

Thanks to everyone for reading, following, and (please please please) reviewing. Sorry that this chapter is so short (looking at you, GinnyPotter6891), but next week's will hopefully be a little longer. Also, minor changes have been made to the beginning of chapter 2. Also, I know the British don't use feet and inches, but I and most of my readers are American.