Mrs. Norris Speaks

Mrs. Norris Speaks

Cat said, "I am not a friend, and I am not a servant. I am the Cat who walks by himself, and I wish to come into your cave."

- The Cat That Walked by Himself

By Rudyard Kipling, 1902

Before I begin, I want to clear a few things up. In my brief conversations with the students' cats at Hogwarts, I've learned that there are several misconceptions about me floating around. Well, a cat has her pride, and some things you just can't let pass!

First off, I am NOT a kneazle. I'm not even part kneazle. I'm pure cat. No one in my family would have interbred with a kneazle anymore than they would a dog.

Second, I am not the eyes and ears of my human, Argus. He has his own eyes and ears. I just try to help him out, because the less time he has to spend cleaning up after students, the more time he can spend with ME.

Third, no, I don't hate children just because my human does. I hate them because they're noisy and they always pull your tail, mess up your fur, try to get you to eat weird stuff, cause explosions and set basilisks loose in the school. They simply oughtn't be allowed.

Fourth, no, I do not have a "psychic" bond with my human. Like all cats, I understand a lot more human language than anyone realizes. Unlike most cats, however, I don't try to hide it. What do I care what they think?

Fifth, I'm not cranky because Argus is cranky. I'm cranky because I'm constantly sleep-deprived. How is a body supposed to get her sixteen hours of sleep a day with KIDS running about all hours of the day and night? I don't know why my human stays here. I help him out as much as I can, of course, but I'm only one cat. It would take several of me just to keep an eye on Potter alone!

I've tried getting Crookshanks to help me out of, course, but he's totally besotted with Granger, and Granger doesn't like my human, so Crookshanks won't have anything to do with me.

And then there was that insane rat, Scabbers. I offered not to eat him if he'd help me out, but he just screamed and ran. Coward. I wouldn't really have eaten him; he smelled terrible.

You know, I wonder whatever happened to Scabbers. One year his human showed up with an owl instead (possibly the most irritating one I've ever met, and that's saying quite a bit), and nothing else was ever said on the subject, at least not in my hearing. Maybe that wizard-dog friend of Crookshanks' ate him up. Scabbers did smell foul, but dogs like that kind of thing.

So, I suppose you're wondering how a perfectly sane child-hating cat came to live at a school for young humans. Well, it wasn't my decision at all; I was born here.

My parents arrived at the school with their young humans, who believed their cats to be "familiars." This is a common error among humans. I don't know where the idea came from, but there is NO SUCH THING as a familiar. There are only cats who are less concerned that others about hiding their intelligence from their humans. My parents had no qualms about letting their humans know that they understood everything that was said to them, and therefore the humans thought my parents had some kind of special powers.

Humans really can be so unbelievably gullible.

I was born the first year my parents were at Hogwarts. After that, their humans had them "altered" so they couldn't produce more kittens - an excellent practice in my opinion, because the fewer cats there are, the more mice there are to go around.

I was one of a litter of four, and my parents' humans thought it would be just wildly clever to have one of us in each of the four "houses" of Hogwarts, so they adopted us out to students in each house. I was given to a Slytherin.

I chose not to learn my human's name. By the time I was two months old, I spent most of my time hiding from him. He was always practicing spells on me, turning me into toads or inanimate objects. This appears to be an acceptable practice among humans, because no one said anything.

He also used to pick me up by the tail, which HURTS, and none of his housemates ever did it to their cats. They also fed their cats, and sometimes they fed me too - otherwise I would have starved before I learned to hunt by watching the older cats. My human only ever tried to feed me things that smelled bad, and that the other cats said would have made me sick or killed me.

Why didn't I leave once I could hunt? If you're not a cat, this might be hard to understand, but territory is everything. We'll put up with just about anything, even children, rather than leave our territory. Also, Slytherin House, being largely below ground, is absolutely bursting with mice, so it's not as if it's without redeeming qualities.

I discovered that the human I'd been given to would leave me alone whenever Snape, the head of the house, was present. I took to following Snape everywhere. He didn't like me and would kick me out of the way sometimes, but at least he never tried to pick me up or feed me poison. He refused to let me into his quarters, though, and I wouldn't go in my human's quarters, so I spent my nights in the common room.

One night while I was waiting for the house elves to leave so I could start hunting (mice hate house elves and won't come out while they're around) one of the elves asked me why I was always in the common room and not in the dormitories like the other cats. I told her that I was afraid to sleep in my human's dorm, and Snape wouldn't let me in his quarters, and besides, there are a lot more mice to hunt in the common room.

The elf said, "It is not good that you is afraid of your master!"

"I don't have a 'master,'" I corrected her. "I am a cat, not an elf. I don't take care of humans and they don't take care of me."

"But that is too sad!" exclaimed the elf. "House cats is supposed to love their humans! Cats is supposed to warn humans of danger and comfort them during trouble. Humans is supposed to feed their cats and be kind to them. This is all wrong!"

"I know it's that way for some cats, but not for me. I don't need a human to take care of me, and my human doesn't need me for anything. I have a warm place to sleep and lots of mice to hunt, and that is enough."

"It is enough for a wild animal," said the elf. "You is not wild. You is a pet! You is supposed to have a human companion!"

"I'm not a pet," I said impatiently. "I'm not a servant, and I'm not a pet. I'm a house cat and I have a house, and if you'd hurry up and get out of here, I'd have dinner, too!"

The elf sniffed at me and disappeared in a puff of smoke, making me sneeze.

Soon after, another cat appeared in Slytherin house. I found her one night hiding under a side table in the common room. "YEEEOOOOWOOOOOOW!" I screamed at her, meaning, "GET OUT OF MY ROOM!!!! "THERE AREN'T ENOUGH MICE HERE FOR THE TWO OF US!!!" This wasn't strictly true, but as I said before, territory is everything. I'd learned, too, that if you initiate the confrontation and come off as a complete psychopath, your opponent will usually just leave without a fight.

The newcomer took up a defensive poster. "I have nowhere else to go! My human keeps hurting me, and the other humans won't help because they're afraid of him!"

"Which human?" I asked. She described the one that had brought me to Slytherin house - only it seemed that he was treating her even more badly than he had treated me. "All right," I said, "You can stay here. I was brought here by that same human. If he hates cats so much, I wonder why he keeps bringing them here."

"I don't know," said the new cat. "I just know he's bad. I'm more than half kneazle; I can sense these things."

I snorted. "You don't have to have kneazle blood to sense that. But that does explain one thing; I suppose you threw one of those kneazle fits whenever he tried to touch you, right?"

"I can't help it," she said, abashed. "People like that make us kneazles lose our reason."

"And your sense of self-preservation with it, apparently. Don't you know that reacting like that to humans only makes them angrier? You're lucky he didn't kill you."

"I think he's planning to - that's why I left," she confided. "He told his friends that I was crazy and he was going to drown me in the lake tomorrow because I was no good as a pet. I don't understand 'drown' or 'lake,' but it sounds bad."

I knew what the lake was, but I decided not to scare her anymore by explaining it. Instead I waited for the house elves to come start their cleaning, and I approached the one I'd spoken to before.

I began to introduce the new cat. "Don't you have names?" the elf interrupted. "All the other cats here have names."

"Names are for humans to use," I explained. We don't use them for ourselves. But if you need one for me, most the kids call me 'Garret Goyle's cat.' I don't know what they call this one." I turned to the new cat.

"The one they call Goyle said he was naming me 'Fleabag,'" she said.

"That isn't very nice of him," said the elf. "Well, my name is Mindy. Was both of you brought here by Garret Goyle?" She leaned close and whispered, "The other students calls him 'Gar Goyle!'" and she burst into giggles.

There's really no understanding elf humour.

"Fleabag here needs to find a new place to live," I told Mindy. "This... Gar Goyle says he's going to drown her."

"Oh no!" cried Mindy. "This is very bad! Mindy is telling the Headmaster about this!" I tried to ask who this mythical Headmaster was - I'd gathered from the humans that he was some sort of omnipotent being that they all answered to - but she was already gone. Fleabag and I both sneezed.

"Do they always make that smoke?" asked Fleabag, sniffling.

"Yes; you have to try not to be standing too close to them when they do that. Well, since you're here, come on - I'll show you the best mouse holes."

We'd only just begun our tour of the Slytherin mouse holes when the common room door opened. I'd never seen anyone enter through the normal door this late at night. It was a strong-smelling human I'd never seen before.

"Hide!" I told Fleabag. She just looked dubious.

The human had two cages with him. He set them down and crouched down to see us better. "The Headmaster wants to meet you two," he told us. "Come along, now." Fleabag went to sniff his hand, and he picked her up and put her in one of the cages.

I backed under the sofa.

"It's all right," called Fleabag. "He's trustworthy. I sense it."

"Stupid kneazles," I grumbled.

Suddenly Mindy appeared next to the human, who jumped. "Don't do that!" he scolded her.

"Mindy is sorry. Mindy is only trying to help." She bowed to the human, and then turned to me. "It's safe," she said. "Mater Filch is only taking you to the Headmaster."

"That's nice," I replied. "What's a Headmaster?"

"The Headmaster is... is... well, he is very kind and everyone must do what he says."

That wasn't at all convincing, but it caught at my curiosity, and as I'm sure you know, curiosity always wins out. I walked into the cage and the human, "Master Filch," closed the door.

Filch lifted the cages and carried Fleabag and me out of Slytherin and through many passages and up many staircases until we arrived at the Headmaster's office.

"Here they are, Headmaster," said Filch. "No trouble at all, these two."

"Thank you, Argus," said the Headmaster, an elderly human with lots of white fur. "If you don't mind, please stay until I've spoken to them."

"You're going to speak to them?" Filch asked, amazed.

The Headmaster laughed. "Not directly, of course. Cats don't use verbal language. I'll need Mindy here to translate. Now Mindy," he continued, "you say that both of these cats belong to Mr. Goyle, and that he's threatened to drown one of them?"

"Yes sir!" squeaked Mindy. "The little one, called Fleabag, and he doesn't feed either of them, and the bigger one lives in the common room, and all the cats in Slytherin are afraid of him!"

I hadn't known that last part; I hadn't had much to do with the other cats since I learned how to hunt for myself.

The Headmaster shook his head. "This behaviour is very disappointing in a Hogwarts student," he said sadly. "Let them out of the cages, please, Argus. I'll have to have a word with Mr. Goyle, and with his parents. Students who will not take care of their pets are not allowed to keep them."

"I have an idea," said Filch. "I know how you feel about whippings, so instead might I suggest we stop feeding him? It would be a punishment to fit the crime, and we do have plenty of empty dungeons we could keep him in so no one could sneak food to him."

I was definitely starting to like this Filch. I walked over and rubbed by sides against his legs.

Fleabag spoke up. "Mindy, tell him that Goyle swings us by the tail, and tried to keep me in a drawer!"

Mindy translated this, and before the Headmaster could answer, Filch said, "We could hang him by his feet! Or we could keep him in a trunk until he learns his lesson!"

"Meep!" I said to Argus. I was beginning to understand what Mindy had been trying to say about having a human companion.

Dumbledore sighed. "Argus, I've told you many times that this school will no longer practice any corporal punishment. No, we will have to settle for taking the pets away from him and contacting his parents."

"Oh, all right," said Argus. "Well, what shall I do with them tonight?"

"You may leave the little one in my office, if you like. I'll contact Arabella in the morning and ask if she would like another cat. However, I believe the older one has chosen you as he human."

"Meep!" I agreed, putting my front paws on Argus' knee.

"I don't like animals," growled Argus. He was lying. He took a step away form me and backed into a chair, which caused him to lose his balance a bit and sit down in the chair. "I especially don't like cats. Always tripping you up, just like this!" he complained. I leapt into his lap. "I especially don't like this one. Look at those eyes. She reminds me of my old nanny, Mrs. Norris."

"Rrrrrrrreep!" I countered.

"And I don't want fur all over my room!" he continued. "I rubbed my head against his chin. "One night," he growled. "I'll take her for one night, but tomorrow, she's out."

And the rest, as they say, is history.

THE END.

Author's notes:

This fic was inspired by my two cats and a plot bunny provided by "Sierra" at FictionAlley.