The Cat Who Could Apparate

Out of the fireplace of the oak-paneled hall of the Tappit Hen Inn stepped a short slender man in crimson silk robes, with olive skin, black curly hair and black eyes. He was holding a trunk in one hand and a crate in another hand. He nodded to the receptionist:

'Good evening, Malcolm.'

'Guid forenicht, Professor Zabini,' Malcolm said. 'Cam' fer yer vacation agin?'

'Yes.' Professor Zabini smiled.

'Th' Red Room is free,' Malcolm said.

'Fine,' Professor Zabini said. 'Can't stand green and dark oak. I've had enough of it in my school days. Seven years of it!'

'An' hoo's Macavity?' Malcolm said.

'Yow!' the crate said indignantly.

'He doesn't like travelling by Floo,' Professor Zabini said. 'And I don't blame him.'

He stroked the crate. It calmed down.

'Aye, certes, it isna pleasant,' Malcolm said.

'Mine must be the only cat crate with Anti-Apparition Wards on it,' Professor Zabini said. 'Or else he'd Apparate right out of it, and how would I seek him then?'

'Aye, he sure isna an usual cat,' Malcolm said.

'He isn't.' Professor Zabini smiled. He paid to the receptionist and headed up the oak stairs at the end of the hall. On the first floor, he opened one of the large oak doors in the hall of the first floor with the old key Malcolm gave him, carried the trunk and the crate into an old suite with tapestries on the walls, and opened the crate. A slender red tom Kneazle with spots, outsize ears, tasseled tail, long whiskers and enormous green eyes leapt out of the crate and began to sniff the suite while Professor Zabini was unpacking. But just as he unpacked his books and arranged them on the bookshelf in the bedroom, Macavity leapt to the shelf and dislodged one book. Professor Zabini picked it up and looked at it. It was Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border.

'Macavity!' Professor Zabini said with reproach. He put the book back on the shelf, put a saucer with meat for Macavity on the floor, and came down for dinner. The dining room had tapestries, oak panels, old oak furniture and a large fireplace. At the table sat three people - a fat, ruddy, red-haired wizard in red robes, a miniature elderly witch in black silk robes with lace, and a thin, nervous wizard with thin brown hair, in gray robes.

'Good evening. I'm Blaise Zabini,' the Professor said.

'Trevor Entwhistle,' the thin wizard said.

'Melissa Twitterton,' the witch said.

'Bryce Strachan,' the fat wizard said.

Blaise sat down and said:

'An interesting name, Strachan. It means 'minstrel' in Gaelic. Names are my hobby.'

'You are the Care of the Magical Creatures teacher and the Head of the Slytherin House, aren't you?' Madam Twitterton asked.

'Yes, I am.' Blaise smiled. I just arrived.'

'Oh, I am very glad to meet you, Professor Zabini!' Madam Twiitterton said.

'I am flattered.' Blaise smiled. Suddenly Macavity appeared on his shoulder.

'Oh! Macavity!' Blaise said. 'This is my cat, Macavity. I had to put the Anti-Apparition Wards on his crate, or he would be gone in a nick.'

Macavity leapt from Blaise's shoulder straight to the floor and walked with dignity along the table. Madam Twitterton stroked him, Mr. Entwhistle too, but when Mr. Strachan wanted to stroke Macavity, the cat edged from him and walked away.

'What's with him?' Mr. Strachan asked loudly.

'I don't know,' Blaise said. 'Cats will be cats.'

Macavity Apparated from the floor to Blaise's shoulder and rubbed against Blaise's cheek.

'He's ever so cute!' Madam Twitterton said.

'Macavity's very handsome.' Blaise smiled.

'How is it to teach at Hogwarts, Professor Zabini?' Madam Twitterton asked.

'I love it,' Blaise said. 'It is sometimes very annoying - some Slytherins go out of the way to be nasty, it seems, but there are more of nice and talented students than of those hooligans. The magical creatures require careful handling, of course, but I understand them and can take care of them.'

'It much be so exciting, Professor Zabini!' Madam Twitterton said.

'Yes, it is.' Blaise smiled. 'Dragons to Puffskeins, they are all interesting.'

'I know you have an Occamy and a slow-worm,' Madam Twitterton said.

'Yes, they are at Hogwarts,' Blaise said. 'The house-elves look after them. Couldn't take all three with me, you know. It would be too heavy a luggage. Evening Star's a very large snake and Asha grew rather heavy too. I miss them, of course.'

'It's truth you are a Parselmouth, then, Professor Zabini?' Madam Twitterton asked.

'Yes, I am.' Blaise smiled.

'Must be interesting,' Mr. Entwistle said nervously. 'I'm an alchemist.'

'I'm a widow with a small fortune of my own,' Madam Twitterton said.

'I'm a broom manufacturer,' Mr. Strachan said. 'Business goes very well.'

'Oh? I play Quidditch sometimes,' Blaise said. 'I wasn't on my House team, though, because I didn't see eye to eye with the crowd that formed the team. Draco Malfoy and his cronies, you know. Wouldn't want them to win even if they asked me.'

'I was a Gryffindor,' Mr. Strachan said. 'Was on the House team before your time.'

'I was a Ravenclaw,' Mr. Entwistle said. 'Wasn't on the House team - I don't fly good.'

'I was a Hufflepuff,' Madam Twitterton said. 'I don't play Quidditch. I'm afraid of heights.'

'The Gryffies had a bad time before Harry became their Seeker,' Blaise said.

'Harry Potter?' Madam Twitterton asked.

'Yes,' Blaise said. 'I call him just Harry. We're friends from our sixth year, you know.'

'He's the Chief Auror now, isn't he?' Madam Twitterton said. 'I wish I could know him.'

'You would like him,' Blaise said. 'He's a very good person - so nice and humble.'

'I fear I will never get to know him so near,' Madam Twitterton sighed. 'I'm just a commoner.'

'Maybe you'll have a chance.' Blaise smiled.

'He's such a hero,' Madam Twitterton sighed.

'He is.' Blaise smiled. 'I know him well.'

'I know you are interested in potion making, Professor Zabini,' Mr. Entwhistle said. 'Maybe you would like to hear of my research.'

'Please tell me all about it, Mr. Entwhistle,' Blaise said, and they began to talk about potion making and alchemy.

After the dinner Blaise returned to his suite and asked Macavity, who Apparated by his side:

'Now, what shall I read to you tonight?'

Macavity leapt on the bookshelf and chucked Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border to the floor. Blaise took it and smiled:

'Want to hear something Scottish because we are in Aberdeen, Macavity?'

He sat down on a comfortable chair with red upholstery, opened the book and began to read:

'If doughty deeds my ladye please,

Right soon I'll mount my steed,

And strong his arm, and fast his seat,

That bears frae me the meed.

I'll wear thy colors in my cap,

Thy picture in my heart,

And he who bends not to thine eye,

Shall rue it to his smart.

Then tell me how to woo thee, love

O tell me how to woo thee!

For thy dear sake, nae care I'll take

Tho' ne'er another trow me.'

Macavity was listening Blaise, sitting on the back of the chair, his enormous green eyes shining in the half-murk of the room.

Suddenly Macavity pricked up his ears, and Blaise heard knocking on his door.

'Professor Zabini, are you decent?' Madam Twitterton's trembling voice asked.

'I am,' Blaise answered. 'What is it?'

'Someone stole my diamond brooch, Professor Zabini!' Madam Twitterton said.

Blaise went to the door, opened it and saw Madam Twitterton, all shaking.

'There, there, Madam Twitterton,' Blaise said. 'When did you see it for the last time?'

'Last evening, when I opened the casket with my jewels on my dressing table to look at them,' Madam Twitterton said.

'You didn't take it far from the casket, Madam Twitterton?' Blaise asked.

'No,' Madam Twitterton said.

'And is your key in place, Madam Twitterton?' Blaise asked.

'It is, of course,' Madam Twitterton said.

'And where do you keep it?' Blaise asked.

'In my handbag,' Madam Twitterton said.

'And you didn't leave it, say, somewhere to lie for a short time?' Blaise asked.

'Oh dear, I did!' Madam Twitterton said. 'I've forgot it when I was leaving the dining room after the lunch today. Mr. Entwhistle returned it to me, when I was taking a stroll in the garden. Surely it couldn't be him!? Oh, Professor Zabini!'

'I'll try to find it out, Madam Twitterton,' Blaise said. 'Will you let me see your suite, please? You can stay in the corridor, if you like.'

'Do look, Professor Zabini,' Madam Twitterton said anxiously. 'I'll stay outside.'

She gave him the key, and Blaise opened the door and went inside. He carefully explored all the carpets, then the dressing table and the casket. Shortly he returned and said:

'I think I know, Madam Twitterton. Tomorrow morning I will know it for sure. Tomorrow at breakfast. Now good night, Madam Twitterton.'

'Good night, Professor Zabini,' Madam Twitterton said.

Blaise handed the key back to her and went to his suite. Mavavity waited for him there. Blaise smiled to him, undressed and went to sleep. Macavity curled up on Blaise's blanket-covered legs and, having washed himself, fell asleep too.

When Blaise went down for breakfast the next morning, he saw that Madam Twitterton was shaken, Mr. Entwhistle even more nervous than usually, and Mr. Strachan was talking loudly and confidently.

'Good morning,' Blaise said.

'Good morning,' Mr. Strachan said loudly.

'Good morning,' Madam Twitterton said in a shaking voice. Mr. Entwhistle started and said:

'Good morning, Professor Z-zabini.'

'Madam Twitterton had a most unpleasant surprise,' Blaise said. 'Someone's stolen her brooch.'

'Really?' Mr. Strachan said loudly.

'Yes. Someone's taken the key of her suite out of her handbag when she left it in the dining room yesterday after lunch,' Blaise said.

Mr. Entwhistle started again.

'But surely it is easy to find the thief?' Mr. Strachan said. 'Not many people have been there.'

'I rather think so,' Blaise said. 'At least, we know the thief left in Madam Twitterton's suite this little thing.'

He held up a red silken thread:

'It isn't from the carpet. The carpets in Madam Twitterton's suite are all green.'

'Green? They are blue,' Mr. Strachan said and then realized what he did and tried to Disapparate, but at this moment Macavity Apparated and dug all his claws and teeth in Mr. Strachan's hand. Mr. Strachan yelled, and Blaise quickly took out his wand, pointed it at Mr. Strachan and said: 'Stupefy!' Mr. Strachan fell to the floor in stupor, and only then Macavity unattached himself from Mr. Strachan. Blaise pointed his wand at Mr. Strachan again and said: 'Mobilicorpus!' Stunned Mr. Strachan was raised above the floor several inches, floating in the air. Blaise then transported Mr. Strachan with some flicks of his wand to a closet nearby, left him in there and locked the door. Then he returned to the dining room, took some Floo powder from a box on the mantelpiece, threw a pinch in the fire, poked his head in and said: 'Chief Auror, Sir Harry Potter!' Soon he saw the Chief Auror's neat study.

'Blaise?' the short, skinny man with messy raven hair and bright green eyes under a pair of spectacles said.

'Yes,' Blaise said. 'Good morning, Harry. I'm at the Tappit Hen Inn. We have here a man who stole an old lady's diamond brooch. I had him Stunned and locked up in a closet. Send your men to take him. They'll find the brooch in his suite.'

'Blaise, have you become an amateur sleuth?' Harry smiled.

'No, it's all Macavity.' Blaise smiled. 'He knew long before me who the culprit is.'

'Did he?' Harry said and tried to smooth his hair, as always. 'Well, I'll send my men.'

'Do, Harry,' Blaise said. 'Good morning'.

'Good morning, Blaise.' Harry smiled.

Blaise broke the link and went back to the breakfast table. Madam Twitterton and Mr. Entwhistle were silent, as all this was a little too exciting for them. Then Blaise heard a rustle of wings, and an eagle owl flew through the window and deposited a letter by Mr. Enthwistle's plate. Mr. Entwhistle opened and read it.

'Good gracious!' he said. 'Professor Zabini, my little discovery is acknowledged! I wrote to the Society of Alchemy about it, and they write it's unique!'

'And that is why you were nervous all this time.' Blaise smiled. 'You waited for the answer.'

'Quite so,' Mr. Entwhistle said.

'I am glad for you,' Blaise said. 'Now, my field is the magical zoology. And among the few things I know is the one that one cannot fool a Kneazle. One can fool people, but a Kneazle sees through the appearances. A Kneazle knows an unsavory person when he sees one.'

'I would never think it was Mr. Strachan!' Madam Twitteton said. Blaise smiled:

'He reminds me of a person I knew at school. Too boisterous to be what he seems. I expect his broom business didn't go well at all, and he tried to compensate.'

'Oh dear me!' Madam Twitterton said.

Macavity marched along the table, his tail up, very proud with himself.

'Yes, you have done well, Macavity,' Blaise said and stroked the Kneazle.

'What a wonderful cat!' Mr. Entwhistle said.

'Yes. He's an Abyssinian Kneazle. Most clever and independent breed. Once at Hogwarts, when I was in my sixth year, he climbed the highest willow around the lake. I yelled at him from below in alarm, and then a Gryffindor second year came by, Stunned Macavity and Summoned him to my hands,' Blaise said. 'This second year and me talked and got on quite well. The Gryffindor wasn't put off by the fact I am a Slytherin, and he took me to meet his friends. They were Harry Potter, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger, yes, the famous Gryffindor Three. And the second year was Mortimer Wimsey, yes, the famous traveler. If it wasn't for Macavity, I wouldn't have these friends, my best friends, and I think Macavity climbed that tree on purpose. He felt Mortie coming. Yes, Macavity's a mystery cat all right.'

'I feel unwell,' Madam Twitterton said. 'I'd better go up and lie down.'

'Go by all means, Madam Twitterton,' Blaise said. 'Good morning.'

Madam Twitterton went upstairs. Blaise and Mr. Entwhistle continued their breakfast.

'Tell me more about your research, Mr. Entwhistle,' Blaise said. 'Or may I call you Trevor?'

'Of course you may,' Trevor said and began to talk on his pet subject. Blaise was listening him with his head on one side, so that to better hear Trevor, as he was used to. Suddenly Trevor asked:

'Who did Mr. Strachan remind you of?'

'Gilderoy Lockhart,' Blaise said. 'He too wore fancy bright robes, and talked so big you'd think he was a hero. But the very first day of study it came out he couldn't fight even Cornish pixies. They wreaked havoc on the classroom. We were fortunate that 'Mione - Hermione Granger, the present Deputy Head of the Muggle Protection Department - was there. She promptly returned them to their cage.'

'I suspected Madam Twitterton won't like the answer, so I didn't ask while she was here,' Trevor said. 'She's his great fan.'

'Appearances can be deceiving,' Blaise said. He didn't tell Trevor of Madam Twitterton's suspicions, of course. It would be tactless.

'Yes,' Trevor said. 'I'm glad I decided to stay at the Tappit Hen, or we wouldn't meet.'

'Indeed.' Blaise smiled. 'I stay here every year, when I am not teaching.'

'It is very fortunate,' Trevor said.

'Yes.' Blaise smiled. 'I'm glad I got to know you, Trevor. It is a pleasant surprise to meet such a learned man, when you arrive to a small inn for the holidays.'

'It is, Blaise,' Trevor smiled.

'I'm looking forward to the holidays,' Blaise said. 'Such exciting conversations ahead.'

'Indeed.' Trevor smiled. 'It will be wonderful.'

'And almost only we two in the whole inn,' Blaise said. 'It was a good riddance. I must tell I didn't like Strachan from the start.'

'And I was afraid you were suspecting me, Blaise,' Trevor said nervously.

'No,' Blaise said. 'When, say, Regulus Malfoy and Jim Potter are called before me for starting a fight, and Jim Potter says Malfoy insulted him, and Malfoy says Potter started it all, I know who of them lies.'

'I guess it would be Malfoy.' Trevor smiled.

'Quite right,' Blaise said. 'Like father, like son.'

The Aurors came later, interviewed Blaise, Trevor and Madam Twitterton, searched Mr. Strachan's suite, hound the brooch and took Mr. Strachan with them. Madam Twitterton lay down in her suite for the rest of the day, overcome by the events, even though she got her brooch back. Blaise and Trevor had long conversations about potions, at lunch, dinner and in between, strolling in the garden. When Blaise returned to his suite after the dinner, Macavity was already waiting for him.

'Now, how about some reading?' Blaise smiled.

Macavity dislodged a book. Blaise looked. It was of course Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border again. Blaise said:

'Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border! Macavity, it was a hint, wasn't it?'

'Yow,' Macavity said contentedly.