The Cat Who Saw Through The Things

Professor Blaise Zabini was sitting in a comfortable armchair near the old fireplace in his suite at the Tappit Hen Inn in Aberdeen, his hand caressing the silky hair of his cat Macavity, a lean, red, spotted tom Kneazle with outsize ears, tasseled tail, long whiskers and enormous green eyes. Macavity curled up in Blaise's lap and was purring with delight. Blaise's black eyes were focused tenderly on the cat, the wide sleeve of his crimson robes was falling from Blaise's slender olive-colored arm to Macavity's back. Blaise was supple like his cat, but his hair, unlike Macavity's, was black and curly. Still, the two were almost ridiculously alike, and one could feel they were old friends, quietly enjoying the company of each other, this sleepy evening at the small inn.

Suddenly, the flames in the fireplace parted, and a head of a middle-aged man with thin brown hair appeared instead.

'Trevor!' Blaise said, causing Macavity to prick his ears and to look up. 'To what am I indebted...'

Macavity calmed down and continued to look fixedly at the newcomer, because it was Macavity's old friend as well as Blaise's, Trevor Entwhistle the alchemist, a nervous but nice man.

'Can you help me, Blaise?' Trevor asked.

'If it is in my power,' Blaise answered. 'What is it, Trevor?'

'Well, you see, Blaise,' Trevor said nervously. 'It is that there is the Tar Barrel Celebration to be held today in the village of Allendale, in Northumberland, where I live, and the thing is the Guisers, who carry the burning tar barrels in our annual procession, are the same people each year, it's hereditary, and cannot be trusted to a total outsider, and to our dismay, old Mr. Merryweather, he's one of the Guisers, caught a cold and is down with fever. We the rest of the Guisers could not think what to do, and then I remembered of you. Will you be so kind as to come to Allendale and replace poor Melilot? If not, I cannot think what we shall do. Sweet Merlin!'

'Don't worry, Trevor, I am glad to help,' Blaise said promptly, for he saw Trevor was in a state. 'I'll just pack my things.'

'I am not encumbering you?' Trevor asked.

'Of course not, Trevor,' Blaise said. 'Just tell me where I am to Floo, and give me half an hour to pack the necessaries.'

'Ten Elm Street,' Trevor said. 'Melilot's house. He would wish to see his deputy the first thing. You shall like him, and our Allendale Town too, I'm sure. Allendale's a lovely place, a little one, deep in the Pennines, you know.'

'I am sure your Allendale is a little sweet place,' Blaise said. 'I shall be at Mr. Merryweather's very soon, Trevor, don't worry. Good evening'.

'Of the lodging don't be concerned, Blaise, you shall stay at my place. Good evening,' Trevor said and disappeared again. Blaise said:

'Well, Macavity, it seems we go to Northumberland, and I am going to carry tar barrels in a village New Year procession. Bound to be interesting, eh? And you are going to charm the villagers with your looks and to taste Northumbrian fare.'

Macavity leapt from Blaise's lap to the floor. Blaise began to pack energetically. Having packed his trunk, he caught Macavity and put him in a crate. With his belongings in one hand and Macavity in another, he went to the fireplace, put the trunk on the floor, took a pinch of a green powder from a box on thee mantelpiece, threw it in the fire, said, 'Ten Elm Street, Allendale Town, Northumberland!' took the trunk in his hand again and stepped into the fireplace. After a swirling sensation he found himself looking to a bedroom, cozy one with fluffy yellow carpet on the floor, red curtains with daisies, bright carpets on the walls, a plump orange armchair near the fireplace, some chairs with yellow upholstery along the walls, several bookshelves, a chest of drawers of brownish wood, a dressing table and a large bed covered with a quilt. A swarthy stout gray-haired wizard was sitting up in the bed and reading a thick book. Trevor was sitting on a chair near the bed. A dog like a Russell terrier, but with forked tail, that is, a Crup, was lying in the feet of the elderly wizard's bed. Trevor, who was turning on his chair anxiously, jumped up at seeing Blaise. The dog leapt from the bed and ran to Blaise with merry barking and wagging of his tail. Trevor said:

'Blaise! Thank Merlin! Here he is, Melilot. Melilot Merryweather - Professor Blaise Zabini, be acquainted.'

'Pleased to meet you, Professor Zabini,' Mr. Merryweather said, putting his book down.

'Pleased to meet you too, Mr. Merryweather,' Blaise said with a smile. The dog leapt on Blaise and embraced him with his paws. Trevor said reproachfully:

'Monty, Monty, calm down!'

'It's nothing.' Blaise smiled. 'He likes me, and I like him too. What a cute dog! A very fine Crup. Monty, you said?'

'Montmorency in full,' Trevor said.

'Montmorency? Here, here, good dog,' Blaise said good-naturedly. 'Fine boy.'

Monty started to sniff Blaise's trunk and then the crate. The crate suddenly hissed. Monty then leapt back in terror.

'It's Macavity,' Blaise explained.

'Your smart cat, eh?' Mr. Merryweather said. 'Trevor told me all about him.'

'Yes, Macavity's very intelligent,' Blaise said. 'Very intelligent even for a Kneazle, and that's saying much.'

'Indeed,' Mr. Merryweather said.

'I hope he will like it at Trevor's,' Blaise said. 'I am sure I myself will like it there. Trevor told me about your tar barrel procession, and that you fell ill and you need someone to replace you, because someone has to take your place. Now tell me more about your celebration. I gathered I am to carry a burning tar barrel, but when and where, please?'

'Well, Professor Zabini,' Mr. Merryweather said. 'You don fancy dress - you can take mine - and carry a shallow barrel, two feet across, with tar, shavings and paraffin, across the village square. At half past eleven, torches are lit, and barrels ignited. You hoist the barrel on your head and go along the main road and then turn and go down the straight road that crosses the town, and return to the square. There you rush to the fourteen-foot pile of fir branches and hurl the barrel to the foot of the pile. The great fire starts, and everyone cheers, the band, that goes with you all the way, plays Auld Lang Syne, and the crowd link hands, sing and kiss. Then you go and celebrate New Year with all the boys after your toil.'

'It sounds fascinating,' Blaise said. 'And please don't call me Professor Zabini. I'm sure you people call each other by your first names. I'm one of the Guisers, and so please call me Blaise, will you?'

'Alright,' Mr. Merryweather said. 'And you can call me Melilot then.'

'Right-ho, Melilot.' Blaise smiled.

'And you are a good fellow, Blaise.' Melilot smiled back.

'Thank you, Melilot,' Blaise said.

'We are meeting at the Heilk Moon Inn,' Trevor said. 'I'll tell the boys about Blaise, Melilot.'

'Do, Trevor,' Melilot said.

'Good evening, Melilot,' Trevor said. 'Good evening and happy New Year. I hope you get well soon'.

'Thank you, Trevor.' Melilot smiled. 'I'm feeling better already, but I've still got fever. I'm taking raspberry tea and some potions. Happy New Year.'

'Happy New Year, Melilot,' Blaise said. 'Get well. I will do my best.'

'Happy New Year, Blaise,' Melilot said.

'Happy New Year, Monty,' Blaise said. Monty barked merrily. Macavity hissed.

'Macavity,' Blaise said soothingly. 'Monty doesn't want to do you any harm. He only wants to be your friend.'

'Let's go, Blaise,' Trevor said.

'Yes,' Blaise said. 'Bye, Monty.'

Trevor stepped to the fireplace, took a pinch of the Floo powder from the usual box on the mantelpiece, threw it into the fire and said, 'Two Dragon Crescent.' He stepped into the fireplace, and Blaise followed Trevor's steps, and after the usual whirling dizziness he saw a room with a large squashy red sofa, several large squashy red armchairs, a crimson Persian carpet, brown curtains, bookshelves, blue wallpaper on the walls and an old grandfather clock in one corner.

'A nice place you have here, Trevor,' Blaise observed. Trevor smiled:

'Yes, I like it quite a lot myself.'

'Yow!' Macavity said loudly.

'Yes, Macavity, yes,' Blaise said, put the crate on the carpet and opened it. Macavity leapt out of the crate and began to sniff about the room.

'There you are, Macavity,' Blaise said.

'I'll show you your room, Blaise,' Trevor said. 'Go upstairs with me.'

Blaise followed Trevor to a corridor, and then up little stairs to another corridor on the first floor and to a little cute room much like Melilot's, only with red chairs, a green armchair, yellow curtains with roses and beige wallpaper.

'Nice,' Blaise said, looking around.

'Unpack then, and I'll bring Melilot's costume,' Trevor said and went out. Blaise began to unpack his things, and, sure enough, Macavity has seized a book and carried it away.

'Hey, Macavity!' Blaise said with exasperation and took the book that Macavity already has thrown away. The book was Manx Wild Flowers.

'And what can this mean, Macavity?' Blaise said, but Macavity wasn't in the room already, having Disapparated. Blaise picked the book, put it on a bookshelf and finished unpacking. Then Trevor came, carrying over his arm a heap of bright cloth. He came to the bed and spread the cloth over it. It turned out to be a costume of a Viking jarl - broad red and yellow trousers of fine wool, blue and red long-piled cloak, leather half-boots with leather lacing, a knee-length tunic of red wool with an ornament of beasts in yellow, red and black at wrists, neck and hem, a penannular silver brooch with amber and filigree and a belt of silver plaques with amber.

'Some costume!' Blaise exclaimed. He tried the clothes on himself.

'It's awesome!' Trevor said. 'They'd think Salazar himself has come back!'

'Thank you, Trevor,' Blaise said.

'I'll go and change myself now, then, Blaise,' Trevor said.

'Go by all means, Trevor,' Blaise said. Trevor went out and after some time returned, dressed as a Yeti.

'Great Heavens, Trevor, one would think you marched straight from the Himalayas!' Blaise said. Trevor said modestly:

'Well, I tried my best, Blaise. I am glad you like the costume. Now shall we go?'

'Absolutely,' Blaise said, and they went to the Heilk Moon Inn along the cobbled streets of Allendale Town, between little neat stone houses with red tiled roofs and gardens. They came at least to a house over the door of which was a sign depicting a gibbous moon in the dark blue sky.

'Is this what 'heilk moon' means?' Blaise asked. 'A gibbous moon?'

'Yes,' Trevor said. 'It's the north dialect.'

They entered the inn, and found themselves in a half-lit room with wooden tables, wooden chairs, a large fireplace, some barrels and a wooden counter at the far wall. A large group of men was sitting near the fireplace. Trevor went to them. Blaise followed.

'Good evening, gentlemen,' Trevor said.

'Good evening, Trev,' the men answered. They were all dressed in bizarre costumes.

'This is my dear friend, Professor Blaise Zabini, who kindly agreed to replace Melilot,' Trevor explained.

'Good evening, Professor Zabini,' the Guisers said unanimously.

'Good evening,' Blaise said. 'And please, no 'Professor'-ing me. I am your fellow Guiser. Call me Blaise.'

'Alright Blaise,' they said.

'Blaise, these are Basil Fairlamb, Herb Wild, Tony Pym, Reggie Hobbs, George Wells, Justin Brown, Luke Harris, Ned Wilson, Tom Appleby...' Trevor said, forty-three names in all.

'Glad to meet you,' Blaise said.

'Glad to meet you,' the Guisers said.

'You are the favorite teacher of my boy's,' Ned Wilson said. 'He says you are amazingly kind to him.'

'Bob Wilson?' Blaise asked.

Ned Wilson nodded.

'Yes, Bob's a very clever and good boy,' Blaise said. 'He's in the Gryffindor House, right? I remember how I had to give Mr. Malfoy a detention for cursing your Bob. Regulus Malfoy is much like his father, Draco Malfoy, who was at school with me. The same 'this-school-belongs-to-me' attitude, you know.'

'I know,' Ned Wilson said. 'Malfoys!'

'Yes,' Blaise said. 'Always Malfoys.'

'You're French, Blaise?' Basil asked.

'Corsican,' Blaise said. 'But my parents brought me to Britain when I was nine, and Britain became my second homeland. I went to high school here, trained as a teacher here, and now am teaching others here.'

'You have a very slight accent, Blaise,' Basil said. Blaise smiled:

'Thank you, Basil. I like English.'

'You look terrific,' Justin said.

'Thank you Justin,' Blaise said.

'The brooch and the belt are the family heirloom of Melilot's,' Trevor said. 'Genuine Viking Age.'

'I knew it,' Blaise said.

'And what are you teaching, Blaise?' Reggie Hobbs asked.

'Oh, zoology,' Blaise answered.

'You miss New Year in the old alma mater, I think?' Herb Wild said.

'Well, Herb, I miss the Headmaster, and the most of my colleagues and students, but it's refreshing not to see for some time the Keeper and some students, if you understand what I mean,' Blaise said.

'I understand all right,' Herb said.

'You, Ned and Herb went to one school, Blaise?' Tom Appleby asked.

'That's right,' Blaise said.

'I went there too,' Basil said.

'Oh? You were after my time then,' Blaise said. 'What House you were in?'

'Hufflepuff,' Basil answered.

'Lovely village you have here,' Blaise said. 'I will remember it dearly.'

'I'm glad you like Allendale Town, Blaise,' Trevor said. 'I'm sure you will also remember our Tar Barrel Parade long. By the way, it's time to move on.'

'All right,' Blaise said.

They rose and went out of the inn. Trevor confidently went round the nearest corner and into a sort of backyard. There were four dozens of barrels with tar, shavings and paraffin. Trevor and the rest of the Guisers took one each, and Blaise took one himself. They went along the streets of Allendale Town. At last, they entered the village square, where a band of six men in fancy dress was singing, and crowds were dancing about. The Guisers crossed the square, going in triple columns. The crowd became larger, as people hurried from the adjoining streets to the square. Trevor looked at the big clock in a tower of one of the houses:

'Half past eleven! The time has come.

Some men with lit torches made their way to the Guisers. Trevor nodded to the torchbearers, and they began to ignite the barrels.

'Good costume, Mr. Entwhistle,' one of the torchbearers said. 'And who is that gentleman in place of Mr. Merryweather?'

'My friend, Professor Blaise Zabini,' Trevor said. 'I called for him, and he kindly agreed to replace poor Melilot, you see.'

'You look splendid, Professor,' the torchbearer man said. Blaise smiled to him:

'Thank you, my friend.'

'We were lucky our Tar Barrel Parade isn't on Bonfire Night, as it is in Ottery St. Mary,' Trevor said.

'Indeed,' Blaise said. 'There is a Christmas break, but no Halloween break.'

'You got it.' Trevor smiled weakly. 'Now, yo-heave-ho, boys!'

Trevor, Blaise and the rest of the Guisers hauled the flaming tar barrels on their heads and formed behind the band. With the singing, the following crowds and the flames leaping high into the dark sky, they steered to the main street of the village and then went on matching along it. It was exciting, and Blaise thought he would indeed remember that day for years and years to come. He felt thankful to Trevor for calling him to take part in this.

'Thank you, Trevor,' he said.

'You like it?' Trevor asked.

'Very much.' Blaise smiled. 'As to Ottery St. Mary, you would not have the need to invite me, if you were them. At Ottery, anyone can carry the barrels - men, women, children, as many as they need.'

'That's right,' Trevor said. 'It's that I have the privilege to be one of the hereditary Guisers of Allendale.'

'And lucky for me,' Blaise said.

The Guisers turned to the crossing street and marched along it, and thus returned to the square, and all the crowds followed them. Trevor steered confidently to one of the corners of the square, where a great pole of for branches towered. Blaise supposed it was fourteen feet high all right. As they reached the pile, Trevor hurled his barrel onto the foot of the pile first, Blaise followed him, and so did the rest of the Guisers. The flames caught onto the branches, and all the pile blazed at once. Blaise heard loud cheers and cheered with the Allendalians. The band boomed cheerfully:

'Should auld acquaintance be forgot,

And never brought to mind,

Should auld acquaintance be forgot,

And days of auld lang syne?'

Blaise sang along with the rest, linking his hand to Trevor's:

'And here's my hand, my trusty friend,

And give me a hand of thine.

We'll take a cup of kindness yet

For auld lang syne!'

Then they kissed as the song ended, and the crowd began to dissolve gradually, to celebrate New Year in their own homes.

'Auld lang syne indeed,' Blaise said. 'For auld lang syne one agrees to carry burning tar barrels on one's head! Not that I didn't like it, Trevor, on the contrary!'

Trevor smiled gently and said:

'Now let's go to my place, not Melilot's, of course, because he's ill.'

'Yeah, let's go,' Ned Wilson said.

And they headed to Trevor's. At Trevor's, they followed Trevor to the dining-room, with a Persian carpet on the floor, pink curtains, white wallpaper with bunches of grass, many chairs with yellow upholstery, a tall cupboard with silver and crystal, and a long table covered with a white ample tablecloth and with dishes on it.

'Please sit down, gentlemen,' Trevor said.

The Guisers sat down immediately.

'Help yourselves, gentlemen,' Trevor said. 'I have here lamb's wool, and Bishop's wassail, and posset, and ale, and Bishop, lobscouse, plum pudding, shepherd's pie, handwarmer pies and wigs. Have plenty, gentlemen. It's New Year.'

'Indeed.' Blaise smiled. 'A fine table you have here, Trevor.'

'I tried my best.' Trevor smiled.

'It shows, Trevor.' Basil smiled.

'Thank you, Basil,' Trevor said.

The Guisers helped themselves to the delightful victuals and drinks that Trevor was so careful to procure.

'To the Guisers!' Ned said, raising a glass of lamb's wool. The Guisers joined the toast, and in that moment Macavity appeared, his tail held up proudly, and said loudly, 'Yow!' in his high melodious voice.

'What's this?' Reggie Hobbs said.

'My cat, Macavity,' Blaise said. 'I never go anywhere without my cat.'

'Some exotic breed?' Reggie asked.

'Yes, an ancient exotic Oriental breed.' Blaise smiled. 'A very fine one.'

'A fine cat, this.' Basil smiled.

'Yes, Basil.' Blaise smiled. 'Very handsome.'

Macavity proceeded to go around the table. The Guisers stroked him gently. Only when Herb Wild wanted to stroke Macavity, the cat edged away.

'He doesn't like me,' Herb said.

'Such things happen,' Blaise said.

The party continued. Blaise felt hot. He unbuckled his cloak and put it down on the back of his chair. The party went on. Then they heard knocking on the window. They looked and saw a company of children. The children immediately began to sing:

'We've been a-while wandering

Among the leaves so green.

But now we come a-wassailing

So plainly to be seen.

For it's New Year time, when we travel far and near;

May God bless you and send you a happy New Year.

We are not daily beggars

That beg from door to door;

We are your neighbors' children

For we've been here before.

For it's New Year time, when we travel far and near;

May God bless you and send you a happy New Year.

Bring us out a table

And spread it with a cloth,

Bring us out a moldy cheese

And some of your New Year loaf,

For it's New Year time, when we travel far and near;

May God bless you and send you a happy New Year!'

Blaise rose, took some plum pudding and shepherd's pie, and went to the window. When he opened the window and looked out to give the wassailers their treat, he saw he knew one of the children.

'Bob Wilson!' he said. 'Good evening!'

'Good evening, Professor Zabini,' Bob said, not a little surprised. 'How you came to be here?'

'Well,' Blaise said. 'I think you know that Mr. Merryweather caught a cold and so he could not take part in this evening's procession, and there must be forty-five of them, and I'm a good friend of Mr. Entwhistle's, so he called me and asked me to replace Mr. Merryweather. I was glad to oblige, and so I'm here.'

'I see,' Bob said. 'Still, it was very unexpected to meet you here.'

'I fancy so,' Blaise said. 'Well, happy New Year, and here's your treat. It is a plum pudding and a shepherd's pie, both very good.'

He gave the treat to Bob.

'Thank you, Professor Zabini,' Bob said. 'Happy New Year. I didn't know you were a friend of Mr. Entwhistle's.'

'We met one summer at the Tappit Hen Inn, in Aberdeen, where I stay usually for my holidays,' Blaise said. 'In fact, I was there when he called me.'

'Were you?' Bob said. 'That's odd. Well, good night, Professor Zabini.'

'Good night, Bob,' Blaise said.

Bob and other wassailers then departed with their treat, and Blaise returned to the table. A fine gray owl flew through the window.

'My owl, Corinne,' Trevor said proudly.

Macavity continued to march around the table, and managed to rub against everyone's legs, except Herb Wild's. Blaise gave to Macavity a piece of shepherd's pie, which Macavity ate up. Trevor, Basil, Ned and others gave little snacks to Macavity too. The Guisers continued their merriment. They even sang Jingle Bells in a chorus. The party lasted long into the night. At last Blaise rose and took his cloak from the back of the chair. And then he noticed there was no brooch in the cloak.

'The brooch is gone!' he said. 'Where could it disappear to?'

The other Guisers all shrugged their shoulders and said they didn't know and haven't seen it. Macavity, meanwhile, at once began to claw the wide shalvar of Herb Wild's costume of a Persian. Blaise looked the Guisers over, straight in the face each, and then said calmly:

'Herbert Wild, if you hand the brooch straight to me, I won't inform neither Mr. Merryweather nor the authorities. Surely you know who one of my best friends is?'

Wild rose, groped into his shalvar, produced the brooch and handed it to Blaise. Blaise took it and pinned his cloak with the brooch.

'Good night, gentlemen,' he said and went out of the room. Macavity followed him, tail held up.

'Manx Wild Flowers, eh?' Blaise said, undressing. 'And does it also mean I get to see the Isle of Man or a Manxman in the near future, eh, Macavity?'

'Yow!' Macavity answered.

'I would like to see the Isle of Man,' Blaise said dreamily.

When he already donned his crimson silk pajamas, the door opened and Trevor came in.

'Thank you, Blaise!' he said. 'I am deeply shocked. What a shame! Sweet Merlin! What would have been if the brooch were not found! It was given to Melilot's ancestor, Alaric, by Godric Gryffindor himself, you know?'

'No, I didn't know,' Blaise said in great surprise. 'Godric Gryffindor, eh? So I recovered his brooch? Well, the Gryffindors always had my sympathy. To think that Godric held it once!'

'Yes.' Trevor smiled. 'I think he would have liked you, Blaise, really'.

'That's a great compliment,' Blaise said. 'But really, the great part of it was Macavity's work, you know. Did you see how he avoided Wild, and how he got hold of Wild's trousers? And when I was unpacking, old boy has seized Manx wild Flowers, see?'

'Yes, he's one remarkable cat, and for sure,' Trevor said. 'But to catch his hints it takes a remarkable wizard too, Blaise, you know.'

Blaise shrugged his shoulders and smiled. Macavity rubbed himself against Blaise's legs with raised tail.

'Fine boy, Macavity,' Blaise said.

'Good night, Blaise,' Trevor said.

'Good night, Trevor,' Blaise said.

Trevor went out, and Blaise lay down under the quilt with Manx Wild Flowers. Macavity lay down on Blaise's feet, curled up and purred loudly and comfy.

Later, when Blaise was sitting down at the High Table in the Great Hall of the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry with the rest of the faculty, having his supper, suddenly a fine gray owl flew in through one of the high arched windows and swooped down to the High Table, dropping an envelope hear Blaise's plate.

'Why, it is Corinne, the owl of my friend Trevor Entwhistle!' Blaise said. 'I fancy, what is inside the envelope?'

He opened the envelope and saw some photographs and a note. On the pictures were the Guisers, marching with the burning barrels on their heads, and himself, right enough, by Trevor's side. He took the note and read it. It ran:

'Dear Blaise,

Here are some pictures from this year's Allendale Tar Barrel Parade. I thought you would like something to remind you of that day. My friend Maurice Blake took the pictures. The Allendalians remember you and your cat very well. Herb regrets his deed and swore that he will never attempt anything like it in the future. Ned Wilson asks me to tell you to give his greetings to Bob. Melilot sends his greetings. He knows. I look forward to seeing you this summer.

Your friend,

Trevor Entwhistle.'

Blaise smiled and showed the pictures to the Headmaster. Professor Albus Dumbledore looked at them and said:

'This year's Allendale Tar Barrel Parade that you told me of, eh? You look very good in that costume, Blaise. And Godric Gryffindor's brooch, eh?'

'Yes,' Blaise said. 'You know I have always had a thing for Gryffindors, Albus, don't you?'

'Indeed I do,' the Headmaster said.

Blaise put the pictures and the note into his pocket, found with his eye Bob Wilson at the Gryffindor table, and smiled to him. Bob smiled back.