Gareth Dunham arrives at the Brate house, grabs the mail
from the post box, lets himself in with the spare key, and takes off his shoes.
He was there to care for the cats, all 5 of them. Sparkles greeted him at the
door like an old friend, bumping him and rubbing at his leg as he set his shoes
on the mat.
“Hey Sweetie.” Gareth cooed and gave her a good chin
scratching.
He takes the small pile of mail to the kitchen where he’s
been gathering it on a shelf. Several floral arrangements had arrived over the
week from well meaning but misinformed well wishers. Gareth had been texting
pictures of them to Megan as they would not survive the length of Adum’s
hospital stay. He was awake now though and the visits to the cats didn’t feel
as emotional. Gareth was so relieved he stepped over a bunch of raffia bow on
the floor and then crunched his foot into broken glass and a small puddle. One
of the cats had knocked over one of the flower vases, more likely it was a
specific pair of them. Gareth backed his foot off the glass and followed the
trail of raffia to two orange tabbies kicking some more around and chasing it
all over the dining room; Fred and George of course. Up on the dining room
table staring down on the pair with disdain was clever old Minerva, a grey
tabby, just like in the film.
Gareth looked at all three in exasperation but spoke
directly to Minerva “Professor, why didn’t you put them in detention?” He
laughs at himself as Minerva just yawns and curls up in a cat ball in an ebbing
sunbeam from the window.
“Oh I see…it’s like that is it?”
He trudges to the broom and dustpan for the glass and floral
debris and then soaks up the water with a dishtowel. He fills the food and
water and puts the dishtowel on top of the washing machine. He scoops the litter
box and then does one last walk around. There’s one cat he has not encountered
yet, Voldemort. This one is very aptly named and Gareth is quite fine with the
idea of not running into him. He’s a large dark grey fluffy mass of malice.
Gareth tiptoes up the stairs and peers carefully into each room as he passes
the doorways. It’s quiet, too quiet. Sometimes Voldemort likes to sleep in the
bathtub so he wanders into the bathroom and peers behind the shower curtain.
Nope. There’s a scratching sound coming from the master bedroom followed by
tiny little mews. Gareth frowns wondering if Voldemort is somehow injured.
He heads back to that bedroom that he had just sort of
glanced in and pinpoints the noise to the dresser, the bottom drawer, which is
ajar. Gareth mutters “Ugh, you’ll get the clothes all hairy you vicious little
shit.”
Gareth yanks on the handles and pulls the drawer open
causing a loud warning hiss but followed again by the mewing. But the mewing is
not from Voldemort. Four grey kittens are snuggled up to the big cat, nursing.
Gareth winces “Oh they got that wrong….I guess you’re just so fluffy down there
and who would dare look twice.” He smiles at the kittens because despite their
nasty mother, they are…kittens after all. The whole family is on top of a drawer
full of slightly familiar looking bunched up sweaters, specifically every
sweater owned by Adum Brate.
aww
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