Macavity, the Mystery Cat

     One Sunday, Mortie Wimsey was strolling along the green grassy shore of the Hogwarts Lake, under the weeping willows. The sun shone, and the birds - sparrows and robins - chirped, the Hogwarts Castle towered a gray bulk in the distance, and Mortie was enjoying the day, when he heard a sharp cry:

     'Macavity! Get off from there, you naughty cat!'

     Mortie ran forwards and saw a short dark boy, with black eyes and black curly hair, staring desperately to the top of a particularly high willow, where a red spotty lean cat with bright green eyes, outsized ears and tasseled tail - surely a Kneazle - was meowing fiercely and defiantly.

    Mortie lost no time. He took his wand out, and, pointing to the cat, said promptly: 'Petrificus Totalus!'

    The cat froze. Mortie nodded contently and said: 'Accio Macavity!' The cat floated in Mortie's hands.

    'Finite Incantatem,' Mortie said, and the cat came to life, leapt out of the dark boy's hands and ran away.

     'Here you are,' the boy said with resignation. 'This is Macavity. A Kneazle and the most stubborn familiar in all this school, I think. Climbed up the tree and won't get off, no matter how I beseech, and I am not very good in the Charms class. He can do magic much better than me. I love him, but sometimes he drives me mad. He levitates and Apparates at will. Thank you, sir, for your care and good reaction.'

    'Yes, reaction matters with a Kneazle,' Mortie grinned.

    'I think I know you,' the dark boy said. 'Isn't your name Wimsey or something? You are a second year.'

    'Yes,' Mortie smiled. 'Mortie Wimsey. And you Zabini?'

    'Yes, dza-BEE-nee it is pronounced,' the dark boy smiled. 'They are always pronouncing my name za-BEE-nee, and it is very exasperating. You are the first at the school to pronounce it right. Blaise Zabini, actually.'

    'Yes, Blaise, I remember,' Mortie said. 'You a Corsican?'

     'Yes,' the boy said. 'Call me Blaise. My father is a manager of Gringotts Bank. He served at the Ajaccio Branch, but then he was sent to England, and we moved here, so I went to Hogwarts instead of Beauxbatons.'

     'You speak English well,' Mortie said.

     'I learned English at my primary school,' Blaise said.

     'My father is the Duke of Denver,' Mortie said.

     'Oh,' Blaise said. 'Then you are a Lord?'

     'Yes. The Viscount Saint George, actually,' Mortie said.

     'Are you to sit in the House of Lords when you are twenty-one, then?' Blaise asked.

     'No, only when I become the Duke of Denver,' Mortie said. 'I am not a peer, mine is only a courtesy title.'

     'I don't know much of English titles,' Blaise said.

     'Oh, it's nothing,' Mortie said. 'Did you name your cat after Macavity, the Mystery Cat?'

     'Yes,' Blaise grinned. 'It suits him very well.

     'Macavity, Macavity, there is no one like Macavity!

     He's broken every human law, he breaks the law of gravity.

     His powers of levitation would make a fakir stare,

     And when you reach the scene of crime - Macavity's not there!'

     'I love this poem,' Mortie grinned.

     'I, too,' Blaise said. 'And who do you have? An owl?'

     'An owl, little tawny one, Honoria she is called, after my great-grandmother, and a cat - Bastet, Bassie for short.' Mortie said. 'He is a Siamese, and much like Macavity, except he manages to do it without magic. He is awfully quick.'

     'And you are quick, too,' Blaise smiled. 'Are you a Ravenclaw?'

     'No, though the Sorting Hat couldn't decide between that House and my present - Gryffindor.' Mortie said. 'And you?'

     'Oh.' Blaise said. 'I am a Slytherin, but I don't like the crowd.'

     'And who in their right mind does?' Mortie said calmly.

     'Then you aren't put off me?' Blaise said.

     'For being a Slytherin?' Mortie asked. 'You are also a Corsican, but you are as much to be blamed for Bonapart as for Riddle.'

     'I am glad you think so,' Blaise said.

     'Great.' Mortie said. 'Now let's go to the Gryffindor Tower. I shall introduce you to Honoria and Bassie and my friends Harry, Ron and Hermione, who also don't like Malfoy.'