Chapter 2
If there’s one thing I despise more than humans, it’s loud humans. Unfortunately, Grimmauld Place is currently hosting a prime example.
Harry Potter’s voice echoes through the house, his words an endless stream of adolescent outrage:
“I’M NOT A CHILD! I FOUGHT VOLDEMORT! I’M THE CHOSEN ONE!”
I bury my face in my paws, trying to block out the racket. Even Hermione, my so-called “Chosen Human,” is no help. Instead of telling him to keep his decibels in check, she’s nodding sympathetically and saying things like, “We understand, Harry. It’s just been a hard summer.”
Hard summer? Try being a cat forced to live in this damp, noisy madhouse.
From my perch on the windowsill, I watch the drama unfold. Harry is pacing like an over-caffeinated hippogriff, Ron looks like he wants to crawl under the table, and Hermione is attempting to talk sense into the human tornado.
“You’re just upset because Dumbledore hasn’t spoken to you,” she says.
Upset? Upset is when your human forgets to buy your favorite treats. Upset is when someone takes your favorite sunbeam. This… this is a full-blown meltdown.
I flick my tail, annoyed. They’re so wrapped up in their shouting and sulking that they’ve completely forgotten about me. Hermione hasn’t even scratched my ears once today.
The betrayal stings.
I hop down from the windowsill and stalk out of the room. If Hermione won’t pay attention to me, I’ll find someone who will.
The answer is clear: Nagini.
I make my way to the back garden, slipping past Kreacher, who’s muttering about “ungrateful brats.” He nods approvingly as I pass.
“Wise cat,” he grumbles. “Get out while you can.”
Using the network of shadows and my impeccable stealth, I vanish into the night. Within minutes, I reach the Manor where Nagini has set up camp.
Nagini greets me with a slow, serpentine flick of her tongue.
“Ah, the orange one returns,” she hisses, coiling herself lazily. “Trouble with the humans again?”
“Always,” I reply, curling up beside her. “They’ve been screeching all day. It’s unbearable.”
Nagini lets out a soft laugh, her scales shimmering in the moonlight. “You should teach them silence. My master does not tolerate noise.”
I smirk. “Neither do I. Unfortunately, my humans are dense.”
We spend the evening in comfortable silence, a welcome reprieve from the chaos of Grimmauld Place. Nagini shares stories about her life with Voldemort, her disdain for Pettigrew, and her theories on why humans are inherently foolish.
“I once watched Wormtail trip over his own robes while trying to carry a cauldron,” she says. “Pathetic.”
I purr in agreement.
As dawn breaks, I stretch luxuriously and prepare to return to the madhouse. Nagini watches me with amusement.
“Back to your chaos, little spy?”
“Unfortunately,” I sigh. “Someone has to keep them from destroying themselves.”
When I sneak back into Grimmauld Place, Hermione barely glances up from her book. “There you are,” she says, scratching my head absentmindedly. “Silly cat, always wandering off.”
Wandering off?! If only she knew the truth.
As I settle into Sirius’ chair, I make a mental note: next time, I might not come back at all. Let’s see how they survive without me.