TOUGHIE & SPOON
The small pet shop was filled by an incredible cacophony.
Francis and Amelia Swanson were standing in the middle of the store, with mouths o-shaped and astonished eyes.
- "How can I help you, me dears?" asked the old witch who was getting off the counter in a creepy noise of bones.
- "W-w-we j-just w-w-anted a-a-a pet for our s-s-son", Francis managed to stutter after a few minutes, trying not to stare at the huge wart growing on the hooked nose of the seller.
- "It's his f-first year at Ho-g-warts", stammered his wife.
The witch chuckled and rubbed her prominent chin that was adorned with three very long gray hairs.
Terrence giggled, perfectly at ease. The old lady looked like the 'Wicked Fairy' in his storybook, but there was definitely something affectionate in her voice.
- "First of the family, innit?"
- "Yes", answered Terrence proudly.
- "What a nice lad", commented the hoarse voice while a scraggy hand patted the child's blond hair. "Let's see ... what would you think of an owl? It's important to own one, especially when you come from the Muggle world."
Francis and Amelia shared a glance with their son.
- "Okay", said cheerfully Terrence, putting his hands on his hips. "But I want one that doesn't bite and won't bring mice in the living room. My mummy's scared of mice."
The witch chortled again. She disappeared through the cages suspended across the ceiling, pushing aside some others that contained rats with small beady eyes.
- "Hmmmm ... ah, that's it. Come and see, me boy."
Both adults bent to sneak to the back of the shop, being careful not to knock over the baskets precariously piled. Amelia jumped as she passed by a cage full of parrots cursing like sailors and Francis almost stepped on a scrawny cat that glared at him before scratching him on the leg.
- "Daddy, Mummy, look! Isn't he cute?" Terrence cried in delight.
He was holding in his arms a tiny ball of gray and tawny feathers. The little ivory beck was shiny and the owl's orbs looked like excited black marbles.
- "He's called Toughie", said the witch, foraging in her nostril with a yellow streaked nail. "It's not a baby, despite its size. He's faithful and efficient over long distances, although it's hard to believe this when you see him."
- "Tell me about it", muttered Francis.
He gave a look of apology to the old woman who was chuckling again.
- "Do we need to feed him rodents?" Amelia timidly asked, gathering her courage. "Where can we buy some? Does it need a basket or a necklace?"
Without putting away the bird that looked comfortable on his arm, Terrence pulled a tattered brochure out of his school bag.
- "Look, Mummy, they explain everything in here. Domestic owls are very proper, they're used to live in houses and it's not diff…"
The doorbell chimed, followed by a hubbub of voices.
- "And anyway, don't you dare to pick an owl just to copy me!" shrieked the angry voice of a boy.
- "James, that's enough. Let your brother chose what he wants, it's his own pet", said a man's voice.
- "I'm not copying", protested a shy but indignant little voice. "It's just that ... that ... I wanted to have an owl just like Daddy when he was in school ..."
- "NO! Dad, he's doing it on purpose!"
- "James, what did we say?" cut off the voice of a woman. "Stop your nonsense."
- "Oh Mummy, look, they have bats!" squeaked the excited voice of a little girl. "I want a bat! Oh please, Mummy, can I have a bat? Please, please, please! Pretty please!"
Terrence slipped behind the saleswoman, curious and fascinated, like every time they met a family of wizards doing their shopping in Diagon Alley crowded at this season of the year.
They looked rather normal, compared to some others, actually. The mother was dressed with a skirt and a blouse, and her auburn hair was neatly combed. The father wore round glasses and a suit jacket with blue jeans - just like Terrence's dad. The oldest of the boys had messy hair and a rather smug expression. The little girl's face was dotted with freckles and her almost orange hair was knitted in two short braids. She was hopping, rubbing her hands imploringly. The other boy was probably to be in first year at Hogwarts as well. Terrence could only see his back. He was holding the hand of the man.
- "Mr. Potter!" cried gleefully the old witch, making her way through two basins of toads that were making disgusting bubbles. "Mr. Harry Potter in me shop! What an honor, Merlin's beard, what an honor!"
She beamed as she curtsied, pleating up her shabby dress. The man rubbed his neck, looking a bit embarrassed.
- "Good evening, ma'am", he said. "We... uh. We're here to choose a pet for my son Albus. Albus Severus is entering in his first year at Hogwarts, you see. Yeah, it's his turn, now."
The saleswoman leaned toward the dark-haired boy who looked a lot like his father, and who took a step back, hiding behind the arm of the man.
- "Aww, they're growing up, these lovely seeds!" she cooed. "So, what pet do you wish for, me dear child?"
From where he was, Terrence clearly saw the green eyes of his future classmate glancing at his brother, then at his father.
- "An ... owl. I would like… an owl – please", he whispered.
- "Dad! Tell him!" squealed once again the one called James. "He's doing everything like me, it's too much!"
- "James, shut up", ordered the woman. She lightly pulled on the braids of the girl who was still pleading. "Lily, you too, that's enough. You're not getting a bat. And we already said you'd pick a pet when you'd enter in first year, like everyone else."
The man shared a look with her.
- "Maybe you could go wait for us at the Leaky Cauldron", he began. "Al and I ..."
- "Oh no, can't we go instead to Uncle Georges' shop? Please, Mum, please?" James interrupted.
Terrence was finding him increasingly annoying. Behind him, Francis was rolling his eyes and Amelia was frowning.
- "Okay", said the woman with auburn hair. "But if you threw even one fit there, let me tell you that you'll spend what's left of holidays at Grandma Weasley's. And not in the garden. Is that understood?"
When the three of them were gone, the store became much calmer. Well, except for the animals' mewing – chirping - squeaking.
The man with glasses crouched in front of the child and smiled.
- "You can choose whatever you want, Al. Don't worry..."
The green-eyed boy nodded. He looked around, locked eyes with a peevish owl that hooted faintly, leaned over the toads' basins and stroked their slimy horny heads. The scrubby cat that had been so surly to Francis Swanson came to rub against the child's legs, purring like an old diesel engine.
The old witch was watching him in loving awe.
Terrence realized the jabber had decreased strangely, as if the creatures held their breath. His parents, who had seemed willing to pay quickly and get out of the store during the family's quarrel, looked completely charmed, now.
- "Oh", suddenly said Albus, and his face lit up.
He was looking at a white owl fluffing her feathers on a high perch.
The man with glasses put his hands in his pockets and smiled.
- "This is what you want?"
The boy did not answer immediately. He had gotten on tiptoe to see the owl better and leaned against the counter. Now he was looking at something that was on the counter.
- "Ah", the old woman said, clearing her throat - an absolutely disgusting noise. She joggled up to the child and put her bony hand on his shoulder. "I see you've met Spoon."
- "What's wrong with him? Is he sick?" the boy asked, lifting up misted green eyes.
Terrence could not bear it any longer. He slipped in between two cages, causing tweeters and whistles of protest and joined them at the counter.
His parents followed him and greeted the man with messy black hair who was wiping his glasses on a corner of his jacket.
- "Hi", said Terrence planting himself in front of the other first-year student. He was taller than him by a good four and a half inches.
- "Hello", timidly said the boy.
When you saw them closer, the green eyes shimmered with golden sparkles.
Toughie hopped on Terrence's arm and flew up to Albus' head, on which he landed with a satisfied hoot.
- "Oh", said Terrence. He grinned. "He likes you."
He turned his head to the counter and looked at the black and white ferret curled up in a ragged cloth.
- "His fur's dirty. If he's not washing, it means he's sick, that's for sure", he said in a scholarly tone.
- "Um."
Albus nodded and tears welled up in his eyes.
Terrence did not know why, but suddenly nothing seemed more important than comfort the boy he did not know.
- "Hey, it's okay, don't worry", he tried, mechanically pushing off a black lock from the other child's face.
- "But no one will want him to be their pet, poor little one ..." stammered the boy with green eyes.
The old witch leaned over and flashed him a toothless grin – full of affection but really hideous.
- "Do you want to have it?"
Albus reached for the sick ferret which rose slightly and rubbed his mangy nose against the warm fingers.
- "Yes", he replied in a small voice, after a last look at the beautiful white owl hooting royally on her perch.
The man with round glasses had approached silently. He smiled at his son.
- "Okay", he said. "Let's take it home."
Albus was too small to reach for the ferret but Terrence got on tiptoe and took it, very carefully. He placed it gently in the arms of the other boy then whistled Toughie. The tiny owl opened big shocked eyes, but flew off, landed on Terrence's shoulder with a hoot and pecked his ear affectionately.
- "How much is it, ma'am?" asked Albus' father, looking into the pocket of his jacket.
- "Nothing", said the old witch. "Spoon wasn't for sale."
- "Ah", the man said after a pause. He cast a glance towards the child and his brow furrowed slightly. "Ah," he repeated.
He caught on the stare of Francis and Amelia Swanson and politely bowed his head to greet them, as if he was distracted.
- "Al? Come on, son, off we go."
The bell chimed again when they went out, holding hands. Albus was carrying the feeble creature and did not see that people on the street were looking strangely at his father. Terrence's eyes followed them through the window then he went to the 'Wicked Fairy' and tugged on her sleeve.
- "Is Spoon going to die?" he asked. His blue eyes were blazing angrily. "You shouldn't sell animals in such a weak state. It'll make him cry..."
- "Terri! Darling, how can you…!" cried his mother, horrified.
- "He's a bit too clever for his own sake", Francis said apologetically.
The old witch scratched her crooked chin.
- "No harm done", she sputtered happily. "You've got here a bright young wizard who's not afraid to speak his mind. That's good."
She leaned over and her knuckles cracked, as if her back and knees were going to unbuckle from one moment to the next.
- "The ferret has no more than a few days left to live, that's true", she said, staring at Terrence who felt a chill going down his spine. "But that could change. You see, me boy, there ain't many people who have such power at this age. The young Mr. Potter ..."
She stopped talking and her gaze blurred off as she readjusted her wool shawl.
- "You'll see", she concluded, her small beady eyes brightening again. "You'll be in school with him, so you'll see."
Francis coughed discreetly.
- "This... Potter man. Is he someone important in your community?"
The eyes of the old lady grew wide in surprise then she laughed openly. As if the spell had been broken, all creatures resumed to prattling, twittering, yapping and making a whole lot of noise.
Terrence frowned, gently stopping Toughie from nibbling his cheek.
He did not understand.
And he did not understand either how it happened, but the black and white ferret lived for two more years before dying quietly, huddled in a corner of the canopy over Albus' bed.
Meanwhile, Terrence had become the best friend of the green-eyed boy who had not chosen the beautiful white owl.
TO BE CONTINUED