A/N: Here is chapter three, finally! I'm really getting into the characters now, so it's becoming easier. It's also kind of shocking, because I imagined them differently. Things just happen, somehow, when you write.

Also, if you like the story, please let me know! It doesn't matter how long or short a review is, I just love to hear from you guys.

Carry on.

Between the cages of a group of curiously sleek black rats and a non-responsive cream-colored tabby, Kathleen Mockridge debated animals. The letter said she could bring a cat, owl, rat, or toad. Obviously a toad was out of the question. Rats had some potential; they were kind of sneaky and creepy. Kathleen liked sneaky and creepy. But something about them was just off-putting. She bent and stared into their cage, assessing their movements and general personality. Noticing this, the rats instantly began a game of elaborate jumping and rolling movements with an uncanny symmetrical style that ordinary rats could never hope to accomplish.

Kathleen straightened up; that was it. They were arrogant. They were obnoxious, self-promoting little…

Rat bastards, she thought, and snorted.

She turned to weigh the pros and cons of the tabby again. It ignored her entirely. Never had she seen a cat that was overly thrilled to see anyone, but this one's aloofness looked a lot like apathy. How boring.

The menagerie door opened then, causing the little bell near the top to ring briefly. The cat's ear twitched, but otherwise it did nothing.

"Hello, yes, I'm looking for a cat," said a girl's voice near the counter. Kathleen turned with a wry smile to whoever was speaking; they might as well just turn around and walk out right now. The girl she saw reminded her instantly of the rats in the cage.

Not that she was in any way physically off-putting, because she was quite pretty. Her golden blonde ringlets tumbled past her porcelain cheeks, all the way to the middle of her back. She had eyes that were more golden than brown and manicured nails that looked too mature on her small hands. She must be wealthy.

The way she carried herself, though, was what tied her to the tumbling rats. Her back was straight, as etiquette demanded, but she didn't look comfortable. She looked nervous. Kathleen watched as she tucked a lock of hair behind her ear; a gesture meant to be nonchalant. It was almost imperceptible, but Kathleen noticed the girl's hand shake. Her voice caught very slightly when she spoke, which was sometimes a little louder than it needed to be. She switched from foot to foot often.

Tired of this pretentious person, Kathleen cast a last look at the cat (a look it did not return) and moved to exit the shop. Her arm accidentally bumped the blonde's purse as she went, earning her a quick glare.

"Sor-" Kathleen started to say, but stopped short with a frown when she saw the look on the other girl's face.

She was actually arching her eyebrow. Spot on, this girl was a rat alright.

"You should look where you're going." There it was again, the forced cool voice that was just a little bit too loud.

"Any four-year-old could tell you not to stand in an entryway," Kathleen replied, keeping her eyebrows arch-free.

This had a satisfying effect on the blonde girl. Her pupils seemed to shudder, moving all over Kathleen's face to actually size her up. If she found her opponent intimidating, she showed it only in a slight clenching of her jaw. The next thing she said, though, wasn't a verbal parry.

"Mockridge."

"I- what?" Kathleen was sure she'd never met this person.

"Your surname is Mockridge, isn't it?" The girl raised her chin, appraising Kathleen in a way that she instantly hated.

"You don't have a reason to know that," said Kathleen, refusing to let this brat feel allowed to ask personal questions.

"Sure I do. My father is Abram Quin. I'm Courtney Quin. My father knows everyone, including your father, who I am quite sure by now is Daniel Mockridge. Half-blood; works at St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. I've heard about you. Katie, isn't it?" Courtney held out her hand.

"Kathleen." She did not acknowledge Courtney's hand.

"Your family is very respected in the Wizarding Community," Courtney continued, after a somewhat doubtful pause before retracting her hand to rest on her purse.

"I don't really care," the dark-haired girl responded blandly. She flicked her gaze to the door, intending to resume her objective of leaving.

"You should." Courtney's face was suddenly very close to Kathleen's, her eyebrows raised at such disregard for rank. "You should be grateful to be respected. There are very few people above you. Most of those won't stay there for long. You can keep. On. Rising."

The other girl leaned away from Courtney's intensity, which was making her insecurity even easier for Kathleen to see. Courtney didn't move her fervent gaze from the dead center of Kathleen's eyes. It was as if she was talking to herself, no longer seeing anything around her. She stared into Kathleen's eyes the same way she'd stare into a mirror. It was eerie.

"Fantastic," Kathleen offered as a means of excusing herself. Courtney didn't respond, only straightened back up and attached her troubled gaze to the cage of skipping rats.

"Barking mad," she muttered, stepping back into the regular flow of people shopping.

If there was one sort of person she didn't like… Well, it wouldn't do to bother with her. With a snobby attitude like that, Kathleen doubted they'd be sorted into the same House. But there was still a chance that they might. She made a face, rolling her eyes to the sky. She wanted to go to Hogwarts to learn magic, not to discuss circumstances of birth that were beyond anyone's control.

That's when she saw it. A barn owl, probably a young one, from the way it still hesitated slightly as it flew. The bird scanned the crowd below and dove suddenly, flapping its wings awkwardly to slow itself as it alighted on a girl's arm. Kathleen recognized her, she was the one from Florish and Blotts who was shouting at the books.

The sight of her, Aileen, she remembered, lessened the annoyed frown on her face. This girl was an idiot, but she was honest. Shouting at a book. Kathleen snorted again.

She watched her walk away with the owl on her arm, chattering happily to it and a tall wizard in cream colored robes walking with her. She even stumbled once on her shoelace, the owl's flailing wings matching her flailing arms in the struggle for balance. No, she definitely wasn't trying to impress anyone.

Smiling a little, Kathleen headed toward to shop Aileen had just come out of. Eyelop's Owl Emporium. A mottled Great Grey had caught her eye, and was staring at her frankly from the window. As she neared the shop, it seemed to become bored, and turned its head around without moving its body. Kathleen smirked.

An owl would be nice.