A/N — Written for Quidditch Boot Camp on QL, and for Hogwarts Etiquette Task 6 - Write about someone making a new friend
Three days after Sirius leaves, Regulus finds the cat. It's a giant orange ball of matted fur that really does not like him, but Regulus has always been patient.
Every night, he waits until his parents have gone to bed and then sneaks out a bowl of food. And every morning, the bowl is empty.
Of course, Regulus has no proof it is his particular cat that is eating the food, but he likes to think it is. He likes to think there is some level of trust forming, even if whenever the creature sees him it lets such a violent hiss it makes Regulus jump every single time.
Each time he sets the bowl down, he lingers a little bit longer. And it takes the cat less and less time to begin its approach. Until eventually, months later, Regulus is able to sit on the back step whilst the cat wolfs down its food.
"See, I'm not so bad," Regulus says to the cat. It does not deign to respond.
Slowly, he reaches out his arm, holding out the back of his hand for the cat to sniff.
It freezes, hisses, then bolts, knocking over the food dish and sending what little cat biscuits remain flying.
Regulus sighs, pushing himself to his feet and cleaning up the mess before his parents can see it. But he does not let this deter him.
He returns the next night, and the next. And the next.
Until, finally, when he holds out the back of his hand, the cat sniffs it. Hisses. Bats his hand away, and continues eating.
"You do like me!" Regulus crows, startling the cat into bolting.
He curses under his breath and trudges up to his room with the dish. There's no point sending Kreacher down for it later when he knows the cat will not be returning tonight.
He continues their little routine every night, the cat getting braver the more comfortable it becomes in his presence.
Until, only three weeks after the last incident, he wakes to a sharp scratch on his eyelid.
He opens his eyes slowly, not wanting to cause any serious injury, and there is the orange cat, its flat face mere centimeters from his own.
It presses its wet nose into his cheek, then then lets out a loud, oddly happy, yowl that has Regulus scrambling for his wand and casting the quickest silencing charm of his life.
"How did you get in here?" he hisses. The cat, evidently, does not like this line of questioning, as it leaves large welts striping down Regulus' cheeks with its claws.
"I'm sorry, but you are going to have to leave," he tells the cat. And he really is sorry.
Unfortunately, the cat ignores him, curling up into a ball on Regulus' lap and purring so loudly he worries he might need to strengthen his silencing charm.
"My parents will not let me have a cat," Regulus tries, but the cat remains unphased.
He scratches it gently behind the ears, and its fur is oddly soft there given how matted and dirty it is.
Regulus sighs.
"You'll have to be a secret cat," he says eventually, already using his wand to try and work out some of the mud clumped into its fur.
The cat purrs in a way Regulus can only take as agreement.