The Cat Who Was Friends with a Ghost

A young man was walking along the Rue de Montmorency. He was short and slender, with olive-colored skin, curly black hair and black eyes, in crimson silk robes, and was carrying in his hands a little, slender, gold-red tom with leopard spots, outsize ears, enormous green eyes, long whiskers and tasseled tail. The young man looked around attentively. Then his eyes fell on a three-storied stone house with a high gable roof, large windows, a beautiful frieze over the first floor windows and a sculptured panel over the door.

'Journey's End, Macavity,' the young man said. 'Imagine, this house was built in 1407 by Nicolas Flamel himself! It is the oldest house in Paris, and now it houses an excellent restaurant, as I heard.'

'Yaaow!' the cat Macavity said.

'Yes, this is awe-inspiring,' the young man said. 'Now let's come in and see what this house can offer to us.'

The young man entered the door resolutely. Inside was a cozy room with ornate gilt mirrors on the walls, red-tiled floor strewn with rugs, sturdy wooden beams on the ceiling, tables with immaculate white tablecloths, and lovely wooden chairs. The young man decided he liked L'Auberge Nicolas Flamel, as this place was called. He went to an unoccupied table near a window and put Macavity in his lap. Soon a waitress came and gave him the menu. The young man studied it carefully. There were many delicious-sounding dishes in the menu, but he decided on Gratin d'avocat a la crème de Roquefort, Saint-Jacques fraiches en chausson safranees, Gigot de sept heures de Nicolas Flamel, and Fondant de chocolat Nicolas Flamel.

'And a jug of Bouches du Rhone, please.' he added.

'Yes, monsieur,' the waitress said and went away.

'This house, Macavity, besides its modern number, retains its ancient name, from the times when houses had no numbers. It is called the Maison de Haut Pignon, or, in English, the House of the High Gable.'

'Mrroaow,' Macavity said with approval.

'Nicolas Flamel gave lodging to poor travelers here, he was a kind man,' the young man said. 'He gave much to charities. And he was a man of many parts - public scribe, bookseller, teacher and alchemist too!'

'Yaow!' Macavity said.

'Yes, he was an interesting man,' the young man said. 'I would like to know him, if he were alive still.'

'Yaow,' Macavity said.

'I'm sure we'd find many things to speak about,' the young man said. 'I'm a teacher too, and though I am by no means an alchemist, I'm a potion-maker.'

By that time the waitress brought the avocado gratin with Roquefort cream and the carafe of red wine and left.

'You are a teacher and a potion-maker?' a voice asked. 'Not a potions master?'

'A potions master? No!' the young man laughed. 'I'm a Care of the Magical Creatures teacher.'

'Beauxbatons?' the voice asked.

'Hogwarts.' the young man answered and smiled. 'My parents moved to Britain when I was nine, and I am British since then.'

'And your name?'

'Professor Blaise Zabini, Master of Farriery.'

'Nicolas Flamel.'

Blaise turned and saw a transparent form of a man in robes, with hooked nose, dusky complexion, long hair and beard - exactly like the pictures of Nicolas Flamel. He was nonplussed but said bravely:

'I am pleased to meet you, M. Flamel.'

'So am I,' Flamel said. 'Are you Corsican?'

'It's not hard to tell, is it?' Blaise smiled.

'A fine cat you have,' Flamel said. 'A Kneazle?'

'A pure Kneazle.' Blaise smiled. 'I had to pass a written exam of hundred questions to get a license for owning him. Got ninety out of hundred. But Macavity is worth it. He's very intelligent, even for a Kneazle. You know, he has a talent for uncovering criminals!'

'Really?' Flamel asked.

'Yes. Thieves so far. His sixth sense is perfect, I believe,' Blaise said.

'Mrroaow,' Macavity said demurely. Flamel patted him, and he purred.

'Why you laughed when I asked if you were a potions master?' Flamel asked.

'Well, remember who is the potions master in our school,' Blaise said.

Flamel thought, then caught it and laughed too.

'Yes,' Blaise said. 'To be mistaken for our dear Severus! Oh, he is a learned man, and I respect him, but I wouldn't like to be him!'

'Certainly not,' Flamel smiled.

'I must tell I really like your house, M. Flamel,' Blaise said. Usually he started to call people by their first names very soon, but he just couldn't call one who was six hundred years his senior, 'Nicolas'.

'Thank you,' Flamel smiled.

'And the restaurant housed here is certainly very good,' Blaise said, looking with approval to the avocado gratin.

'I think so too,' Flamel said. 'So you are interested in alchemy?'

'A little,' Blaise said. 'I am naturally interested in all connected with potions. Many of my friends are alchemists.'

'Add another one to their number,' Flamel said.

'Thank you, M. Flamel,' Blaise said

'Nicolas, please,' Flamel said.

'But... I can't possibly...' Blaise began, but Flamel said:

'Nonsense. I like you, Blaise.'

'Well, then...' Blaise said.

And they began to talk about bains-marie, realgar, cinnabar, orpiment and suchlike things. Blaise's familiar listened to them attentively. Blaise finished the avocado gratin and started the fresh scallops' pie with saffron.

'This is delicious!' he said. 'They really know how to cook here.'

'Yaaow!' said Macavity, to whom Blaise gave a piece of the scallops' pie.

At this moment, a girl at one of the neighbor tables screamed and fainted.

'Excuse me, Nicolas,' Blaise said. 'I must help the young lady.'

'But certainly,' Flamel said.

Blaise rose quickly. Macavity appeared on the floor even before his master rose. Together they strode to the girl's table, Macavity with his tail up. Blaise lifted the girl carefully, set her on her chair, took out of a pocket of his robes a long wand of white wood, pointed it to the girl and said, 'Enervate!' Macavity jumped to her lap and rubbed himself against her.

'Nice kitty.' she smiled. 'I fainted, did I?'

'Yes,' Blaise said. 'I brought you round. What happened?'

'Oh! Someone's stolen my Jarvey!' the girl said. She was rather pretty, with auburn hair and blue eyes, in elegant lilac robes.

'Your Jarvey?' Blaise asked.

'Yes. My familiar. His name's Rufus. I am so fond of him!'

'I see. I'll try to help you. My name is Blaise Zabini, and this is Macavity.'

'Myrrhis Leverrier,' she said.

'Glad to meet you,' Blaise said. 'Now, Mlle Leverrier, when and where did you see Rufus last?'

'He...was in my pocket all the time, and then I felt he wasn't there!'

'When?' Blaise asked.

'Just now!' Mlle Leverrier said. 'Oh, M. Zabini, help me!'

'Don't worry, I will.' Blaise promised calmly. 'Nicolas, come here, please.'

The ghost appeared at Mlle Leverrier's table.

'Mlle Leverrier - M. Flamel,' Blaise said.

'OH!' Mlle Leverrier said.

'Nicolas is quite nice, don't worry,' Blaise said. 'Nicolas, did you feel anything near Mlle Leverrier's table?'

'Why, yes, I did,' Flamel said. 'Something slid by. It wasn't corporeal.'

'Oh!' Mlle Leverrier said.

'Macavity, you heard?' Blaise said. 'You will feel this something too, surely.'

'Yaow!' Macavity said.

'Then seek it, please,' Blaise said.

'Yaow!' Macavity agreed. He jumped from Mlle Leverrier's lap to the floor and began to rove around the room, feeling the air with his whiskers. Then he darted to the kitchen door. Blaise raced after him, and Mlle Leverrier followed them.

'Where are you going, monsieur!?' somebody cried after him, but Blaise was too concerned about Rufus.

Macavity rushed across the kitchen and into a corridor, and then into the backyard. Under an apple tree he arched his back and hissed. Blaise saw a red Jarvey that was struggling with something. Blaise rushed to the spot, directed his wand at the something and blurted out, 'Expecto Patronum!' A silvery form of a Siamese cat exuded from the tip of his wand and rushed to the something, pounced at it with its teeth and claws. The Jarvey squeaked with relief and dashed to his mistress. Mlle Leverrier took the Jarvey in her hands and kissed him.

'Oh, Rufus, my dear!' she cried.

'You're a fine fellow, Rufus,' Blaise said to the Jarvey.

'Codpiece!' Rufus said.

'And that's your thanks?' Blaise smiled.

'All Jarveys are like this.' Mlle Leverrier smiled.

'I know,' Blaise smiled.

He offered his hand to Mlle Leverrier. She put Rufus in her pocket and took Blaise's hand, and they went back to the dining room.

'Thank you for saving Rufus's life, M. Zabini!' Mlle Leverrier said.

'Not at all, Mlle Leverrier,' Blaise said.

'What did you remember about, M. Zabini?' Mlle Leverrier asked.

'Hogwarts.' Blaise smiled. 'How I am teaching students there.'

'Hogwarts? Are you English?'

'British,' Blaise said. 'I was born in Ajaccio, but I live in Britain since I was nine.'

'And what do you teach?'

'Care of the Magical Creatures,' Blaise said. 'Now, Mlle Leverrier, will you keep me company? I have a fine fresh scallops' pie with saffron, and I ordered seven-hours lamb of Nicolas Flamel, and Nicolas Flamel's Chocolate Fondant.'

'That sounds delicious,' Mlle Leverrier said. 'Thank you, I will.'