one for the price of two [poesy]

The trouble with summer was that every day started so...early. Or at least, it did if you were a rat, Hunter supposed as he drifted into consciousness to the not-entirely-unpleasant sensation of a small furry nose tickling his left ear. Opening one eye and forcing it to focus on the muggle clock he groaned. Quarter to six and already bright light was streaming in through the window, the curtains... “You're a git, you know that?” he muttered, reaching for the rat and holding it in front of his eyes. This one, Jacko the Third, was far too bright for her own good and had actually figured out that if she climbed to the top of the rail and pushed the curtain rings, she could make the room light. Oblivious to the fact that this was the precise opposite of what Hunter wanted after an enjoyable night which had included several games of cards, an argument about football and at least six pints of real ale she was now twitching her whiskers hopefully as she searched for a treat.

Hunter grumbled in irritation as he fumbled under the bed for the tupperware box in which he kept a selection of rat-friendly delicacies. “There. Go seek” he mumbled as he tossed a piece of dried carrot across the less-than-tidy bedroom and flopped back onto the bed. It was too late though; he was already awake and likely to remain this way. He reached for the water glass he'd had the sense to place there the previous night and drained the couple of inches it still contained (Jacko had appreciated the glass being there too; she'd been thirsty a couple of hours ago and it had saved her wriggling under the bathroom door) then ventured to open his other eye. Being not assailed by a headache was a good sign so a moment later he sat up, dislodging three other warm furry bodies that had snuggled up against his feet. Having obtained her treat Jacko now reappeared, eating it happily as she sat on the bed. Hunter shook his head as he dragged himself off to shower; returning minutes later wrapped in a towel. It looked set to be a perfect day; ideal for this afternoon's Quidditch match where he would be reporting from. Smiling at the thought, he pulled the curtains fully open and

“Meow?”

“ You again?”

For the third day running, an exceptionally pretty, overly fluffy creamy-white cat was sitting on the windowsill outside. It showed no interest in the rats aside from wanting to boop noses with Jacko; indeed it appeared to be lost and looking for a new home. Hunter had so far resisted offering too much encouragement to the furry creature. He had no need for another pet, especially not one that was the natural enemy of his beloved rats. But it was hard to resist when the little thing was now strolling up and down the windowsill, purring hard enough that its tail shook and rubbing its face against the glass.

Hunter shook his head, grinning as he turned away and left the room. Moments later he was back, towel slipping as he crossed the room, a plate of leftover ham pulled from yesterday's sandwiches in hand. He opened the window at the precise moment the towel slipped entirely, thus unwittingly exposing himself to 102-year old Madam Fotheringay who happened to be opening her curtains across the street at that precise moment and thus spent the rest of the day sipping a calming draft with a delighted smile on her face.

By the time Hunter had grabbed his towel the cat had slipped in through the window, selected a piece of ham and was noisily enjoying it on his bed.

“You're a git, Norman” he told the cat, selecting the first name that came into his head at that moment.

@Poesy Darling

"Freddie?"

The voice belonged to a petite blonde woman who poked her head out of her front door and peeked around the corner. Okay, so, it wasn't even her cat. The fluffy little thing had been meowing at her door a couple of weeks ago, soaking wet and shivering. He'd taken some coaxing inside and after a can of tuna and a rub down with a towel, the cat seemed content to stay and Poesy was all too happy to have him.

She was properly single and rather than hitting the town, pubs and clubs like any "normal" young woman would be doing in the London summer, she'd been spending her evenings making cat-friendly cupcakes and worrying about the best place to put her cat bed so Freddie would achieve maximum comfort.

Heaving a sigh, she closed the front  door of her cafe behind her and locked it, padding down the street with a frown creasing her pretty face. Deep down she knew the cat was a stray but he'd been coming back to her less and less over the last fortnight or so. Despite getting confirmation from a vet that this was perfectly normal, it didn't really ease her worries.

It was still early and Diagon Alley was still deserted, despite the sunny morning and it was already warm. With her long blonde hair tied back into a swishy ponytail, she reached into the back pocket of her shorts to extract something Muggles called "blu-tack". Poesy didn't get it but it was wonderful. It stuck anything to anything and apparently, she could clean bathroom tiles with it? Amazing! In her left hand was a sheaf of paper with Freddie's picture on it, enchanted to move to show him swishing his fluffy tail lazily with the words MISSING CAT beneath it, along with her address and a reward of free coffee.

She'd already stuck three to her windows in Deja Brew but she continued to stick them to shop windows before the owners opened up. She hoped they'd understand. Poesy wasn't really sure what else she was supposed to do. She'd left out fresh food and water on her doorstep in case Freddie decided he didn't like her any more, along with an old jumper in case he wanted a nap. It wasn't anything unusual, cats roaming, but the idea that he was maybe hurt or hungry was making her feel a bit ill.

Up and down the shopping street she went, just past the final shop and she heaved a heavy sigh. Poesy still wasn't that familiar with the area and she'd spent so long in France that she was still adjusting to Britain not having that many shops that stayed open past six in the evening. What was she supposed to do if she needed something late at night? Wait until the morning like some chump? Spinning in a circle, she stopped suddenly as a flash of white caught her eye.

"Freddie!" She called, the soles of her trainers bouncing on the cobbles as she sprinted, only to stop quickly with her eyes wide as she saw the flash of a strange man's midriff. Biting her lip, she crept forward, bending lowly as she came closer, her big blue eyes wide in mild panic and curiosity. The window was open but she was hesitant to get any closer. "Freddie Purrcury, you come out here right this second," Poesy hissed in a stage whisper.

Holding the towel with one hand, Hunter used the other to reach for the jeans that were lying where he'd left them on his bedroom floor last night. Going commando wasn't his preference, but neither was exposing himself to the street and any unwitting passers-by, even if it was too early for any sane person to be walking the streets. Surely not even the Minister for Magic had to start work at such a ridiculous hour.

It was proof that Hunter wasn't fully awake yet that the precaution of closing his curtains hadn't yet occurred to him, and instead he ducked into the corner of his bedroom to drop the towel and quickly pull on his favourite jeans. Only then did he relax and stepped back into the centre of the room, looking for a shirt until he remembered that he'd left last night's t-shirt in the bathroom, ready to be taken to the muggle launderette that Hunter favoured (or more likely, for a quick cleaning charm to be performed until he had a large enough load to make the walk into muggle London worth his while). "Clean shirt..." he muttered to himself, though no sooner had the words left his lips than someone replied.

"Wha..?" Hunter spun round, staring in the direction of the open window where someone was whispering...or trying to whisper, because he could hear exactly what she - for it was a woman's voice - was saying. So did the cat, for the newly-named Norman made a soft chirping noise and flicked his right ear before completely ignoring what was going on. "Come on mate, that's my bed" the young man said, picking up the cat which immediately started purring and kneading enthusiastic paws into his shoulder "ow, that hurts! Come on, out you go..."  Despite the new and unexpected small punctures in his shoulder Hunter was gentle with the cat, attempting to stand it back on the windowsill and leaning forward as he did so.  As he did, his eyes widened at the sight of a young woman crouched on the street outside. Immediately he stood upright, now cuddling the cat protectively close, a confused frown on his not-quite-awake face.

"Poesy?" he asked, surprised. Since they'd reacquainted with each other several months earlier he had visited her coffe shop several times. Nonetheless, it was a surprise to find her crouching on the pavement, so much that his brain woke up the rest of the way "Are you okay? Did you fall?"

When her name was called, Poesy popped her head up like a meerkat. "Hiya!" She called out, pink cheeked and wide-eyed upon realisation that she'd been busted creeping around the neighbourhood at an ungodly hour. With all the grace of a drunken elephant, she managed to get herself back to her feet and brushed her hands against her thighs.

"Hunter?" She blurted out, her look of confusion mirroring her own. "What are you doing here?" Poesy asked dumbly upon realising that he probably lived there. Flushing a deep crimson, she tangled a hand in her hair as she offered a sheepish grin.

Freddie was cradled in his arms, looking like butter wouldn't melt. If cats could look smug, this one certainly did. With her hands on her hips, she let out a heavy sigh before offering him a tired smile. "No, I'm fine, thank you," she said kindly as she scowled at the fluffy little thing. "That's my cat -- sort of," she frowned, Freddie only then turning to give her a cursory glance and a quick meow.

"I think he's a stray and I've been feeding him for a while. He's just not been around lately so I was worried he might have been hurt." Freddie didn't have a care in the bloody world. "Have you been feeding him?" She asked, both put at ease but also feeling guilty. She'd have to get Hunter some money. Then it suddenly hit her.

"Oh sugar," she hissed, hands flying to her face. "Did I wake you? I'm so sorry," she said gently in an effort not to wake any more of the street up. "Did he wake you up?" Poesy asked, gesturing to the cat. Like a child, she made the traditional pst-pst-pst noise but Freddie seemed fairly content in Hunter's arms. She heaved a sigh. Bloody marvellous - rejected by a cat. It made a nice change that the rejection hadn't come from a human this time.

"Can I get you some breakfast?" Poesy offered tentatively, unsure if Hunter thought she was bonkers because honestly, she couldn't blame him. She offered him a sunny smile. "I make a pretty great blueberry pancake," she coaxed him. It was the least she could do. Her shop wasn't far away at all and she wasn't sure if he'd seen the place when it was empty.

Clearly startled by the sudden appearance of a woman outside the window, Norman jerked backwards in Hunter's arms, claws fully extended though he made no effort to actually get away. On the contrary, the cat gave the distinct impression that he was quite happy to stay there and glare insolently at the newcomer. Hunter was less comfortable; once he'd realised who had been crawling around outside his window his instinct was to offer a hand to help her up, something that was impossible due to the cat in his arms. And Poesy looked just as surprised as he felt, though he snorted with laughter at her question.

“Oh, you know...breaking and entering...cat theft...” he said with a grin and wink as the poor woman blushed, clearly embarrassed as she got to her feet. Though a moment later  he felt an unpleasant jolt in his chest. Her cat..? Sudden visions of being arrested and carted off to the Ministry made Hunter attempt to lean forward and once again hand the cat out of the window, a look of horror on his face. “I wasn't...” he began, and then relaxed a bit. Norman wriggled into a more comfortable position and meowed.

“So you're anybody's for a slice of ham?” he asked. The cat's ears pricked up hopefully at the mention of ham and started to purr, but Hunter continued with “Nope, you've had it all...” Unimpressed, Norman/Freddie instead poured himself out of the man's arms and settled back down onto the bed, where he began washing his left back foot with meticulous attention to detail. Hunter looked back at Poesy.

“No...well, kind of. He likes ham, and he had an egg the other morning when I dropped it on the floor”  he admitted, sounding like the worst kind of slob. Really, he wouldn't have dropped the egg in the first place if the cat hadn't been winding around his legs and tripped him “He turned up a week or so back, and he just waits until I wake up...you didn't wake me, it was Jacko... Jacko?” Though articulate under normal circumstances, Hunter wasn't at his best this early in the morning. Glancing around, he had realised there wasn't a rat in sight. That wasn't surprising, most of them were probably still asleep, but Jacko had likely taken herself exploring “Wherever Jacko is...and then this one was on the windowsill, ready for breakfast like he has been every other morning this week. I guess he normally just sits there until I wake up...” Hunter grinned, and looked like he was about to say something more, but...

Breakfast? Hunter immediately had thoughts of fried eggs and sizzling bacon, but he wasn't about to turn his nose up at pancakes either... “And coffee? That sounds amazing, let me just...” Hunter grabbed the first clean shirt he found, dragging it over his head and running one hand through freshly-washed hair. Only then dig he pick up the cat and hand it carefully out of the window, before climbing smoothly through himself. Not being in possession of anything worth stealing, he had no qualms about leaving the window open while he was out. A quick flick of his wand ensured that any unwelcome visitor would get a nasty shock, anyway.

“So, Norman's really Freddie? I think it suits him better...this way, right..?” he asked, starting to walk in the direction he thought the shop was.

He joked about breaking and entering and Poesy squinted, a little unsure what was happening. He grinned so she returned it quickly, tangling a hand in her hair as she lingered awkwardly close by. "He seems happy," the petite blonde offered, quick to assuage Hunter if he felt like he was overstepping the mark. He wasn't, she was, creeping around in the early hours like a weirdo.

She laughed, genuinely this time, as Hunter spoke. Freddie was on the bed like he owned the place as she gave a gentle sigh. "He might be," Poesy joked, instantly feeling stupid after spending all that money on organic cat food when he seemed happier stealing people's eggs. "Jacko?" She asked, confused. Poesy tried to look behind his shoulder to see if that someone was there.

Her bright blue eyes were on Freddie and it was impossible to feel annoyed with him. The little thing was a true character, swanning about like he owned the place. "Hate to break it to you but I think you've got a new tenant," she grinned. If he'd been feeding the cat for a week, would he want to feed it...forever? Freddie was clearly done with her overbearing cat-mum spiel and she hadn't even tried to dress him up in the cute little jumper she'd bought him. Yet.

"Can I replace the stolen eggs?" The Potioneer offered kindly with a smile. "Or can I at least offer you the cat bed he's completely ignored?" She snorted. It'd save Hunter's bed from hairballs. The saying was true - dogs did have owners and cats truly did have staff.

He was getting changed and she flushed pink. "Yeah, sure. Sorry, I'll just --" she trailed off vaguely, turning around to give Hunter some privacy, turning back just a little to cop a peek before he pulled his shirt back on. It wasn't really her fault. Being close to a half dressed human of any gender hadn't happened in a long time.

As Freddie was escaping, Poesy stopped to scoop him up, tucking him securely under her arm like she would a rugby ball. Hunter climbed through the window soon after and he eyes widened in surprise but Freddie's wriggling was distracting. "C'mere," she cooed as she scratched behind his ear, letting him settle down and tolerate being carted about. Toleration seemed to be the key word here.

"Freddie Purrcury," Poesy told Hunter, the tips of her ears turning pink as she realised how embarassing that sounded. "It sounded better in my head," she admitted, wondering if Hunter was at all familiar with the lead singer of Queen. She might as well have called the cat Mr. Whiskerson, it would still be equally as terrible. "Right," she agreed as she fell into step with him, Freddie now batting his paws in an attempt to catch the tassels she had hanging from her shorts.

"He's a bit of a handful," she said fondly, aware now that Hunter must know. The walk wasn't far, it was just down the street. When they were close, she put the cat down and let him scrabble over the cobblestones. He knew where he was going and seemed to have a new zest for life as he bounced over to the front door.  Poesy extracted her keys and opened the door, letting Hunter and the cat enter. "The door's a bit sticky," she explained as she practically shoulder barged it with a grunt, Freddie gambolling in as she closed the door behind them both. The shop looked good when it was sunny as Poesy stepped behind the counter. "Do you take milk?" She asked Hunter as she gathered cups.

"Take a seat," she insisted, gesturing to one of the mismatched barstools as Freddie began chewing on one of the low hanging plants. "How have you been?" Poesy asked, genuinely interested as she expertly poured coffee into two cups. "And we should figure out --" crash! Freddie had pulled down one of the plants and the ceramic pot smashed against the floor, the kitten scuttling away under the safety of the stools. Poesy sighed, dejected. "The cat."

“Yeah, he's been coming for breakfast every morning this week” Hunter said, looking down at the cat with something very close to affection. “He turned up last week, hung around on the windowsill and I gave him a bit of my dinner...fish and chips...” he added with a grin. Not having had a cat before Hunter had given Norman a bit of each item and then been amused by the cats obvious horror at being offered a vegetable. He almost continued, explaining that the cat had been on his kitchen windowsill that day, and that he didn't really eat dinner in his bedroom, then remembered that she was the one who had been crawling around under his window at six in the morning.

When Poesy repeated Jacko's name, Hunter assumed she knew what he was talking about and was helping to call the rat. “It's fine. She'll turn up. Probably under the bed” he said vaguely and comfortably “and...new tenant? Oh no...he's yours...I can't...” the reporter insisted as the cat continued to purr and genuinely look as though owning them both would be the best plan in the world.

The idea of having a cat bed in the house almost made him snort with laughter, but Hunter stopped himself just in time. Cats don't need special beds, they just sleep wherever they want. This one had been happy enough on his bed, but most of the time Norman had been here, he'd just slept on the windowsill and appeared to be totally comfortable. “No, let's take him back to your place and see if he remembers where home is” he suggested, sounding more decisive now. It wasn't that he didn't like the cat, but he didn't want to kidnap it from poor Poesy, especially if she had already bought it a bed and Merlin knew what else.

“Don't worry about the eggs...I got two articles published last week” he assured her, assuming she would immediately make the connection between the two things.

Now she was holding the cat, things seemed more natural. Really, Poesy looked far more like the genuine owner of a cute white fluffball than he did, and he laughed as it tried to grab hold of the tassels on her clothes. He frowned in thought for a moment, then made the connection  “Oh! You mean after the singer...Mercury, right? He was the singer in a muggle band. They made a video - you know what that is, right - where they were cleaning a house with muggle machines and wearing wigs and dresses. I remember watching it with Jimmy when I was a little kid.” Hunter grinned at the memory. He'd loved that song. He'd loved it so much that he'd made Jimmy dress up in his mother's skirt and dance around the basement they'd been living in at the time. But that had been nearly twenty years ago. “Wish I could remember the song...” he added wistfully.

By now, Freddie/Norman was strolling down the street, apparently quite sure of where he was going. So clearly the cat hadn't got lost and come to him just because it as hungry...did it just like visiting different people? Because now it was clearly quite happy to go back with Poesy, skipping into the cafe almost before the door was open more than a couple of inches. The cat meowed hopefully at the word milk. “Yeah, and apparently I'm not the only one!” he nodded towards Freddie/Norman as he started to chew on the nearest plant “And one sugar, please...I'm not quite sweet enough”

He settled himself on the closest stool and leaned forward, resting on his elbows. How had he been? His mind, never terribly sharp this early in the morning, went immediately blank and then grasped their previous meeting in relief. “Well, Jimmy managed to sell those machines I showed you. You're right, they do need elec-tricity” he said, pronouncing the word carefully. Despite having grown up with muggles a lot of that side of life passed him by, and most of it had been forgotten as soon as he'd walked through the doors of Hogwarts for the first time.

The crash had his head whipping round in the direction of the noise. Automatically, the man pulled out his wand and muttered a quick spell, tidying the mess into a neat pile. The cat had frightened himself and was now hiding under a stool, though his ears had pricked up as the soil and broken ceramic had been swept together. “Where do you want this put?” he asked as he got to his feet, uncomfortable with leaving the poor girl to do all the work. Especially if it was half his cat that had caused the trouble!

“Yeah, we need to figure that out. But first...” a cheeky grin appeared on the young man's face “You said something about blueberry pancakes? I'm not much good at thinking before breakfast. And you can tell me how you've been. Is the cafe doing well?” As he spoke Freddie/Norman skipped out from under the stool and began pouncing on a sunbeam on the floor.

Poesy was torn between relief and guilt when Hunter explained that Freddie had been stopping by for breakfast. She exhaled, unaware that she'd been holding her breath as she placed a hand on her chest. So, the little horror hadn't gone hungry. She grinned. "Lucky cat," she mused, her head tilted. It was funny how much she'd missed home since she'd been abroad - fish and chips, the rain, beans on toast, not making eye contact with passerbys, conversations about the weather.

As Hunter said this Jacko was under the bed, her eyes widened. "What?" She asked, sounding confused as she tried to see past him. "Shouldn't they --" she paused, realising she was making assumptions. If he wanted to hide his guests under the bed, she supposed that was fine? She frowned. "Not be under the bed?" Poesy asked quietly, her hand going to her earrings like in an action that she always performed when she was anxious.

But she laughed quickly. "He's not," she said fondly as the cat meandered around. "I wish he was," she added, sounding wistful. The idea of sharing Freddie didn't sound practical but she also didn't want to give him up, even if he preferred to sleep and eat here.

Poesy laughed again quickly as she shifted to cradle Freddie like a baby, the poor cat not really knowing if he enjoyed it or not. "That's great," she said pleasantly but instantly feeling ashamed because she hadn't read them. The newspapers were bought daily for the cafe but she'd hate to admit that she very rarely read them. She'd read the gossip column once and it put the fear of God into her.

A rush of affection for Hunter appeared suddenly as she grinned at his recognition. "Right!" She exclaimed, her pretty face lighting up. He spoke about the hoover and she nodded along with him quickly, chuckling. "Me too," she agreed to him liking the song, chewing on her lower lip as a blast of warm nostalgia swept over her. Shooting him a sideways glance, she smiled. "I'm not going to subject you to my rendition," she joked. It was early but there was never a good time to hear Poesy's warbling.

With her fingers around the milk bottle, she frowned. "Can cats have milk?" She asked Hunter, remembering something about lactose? "I guess a tiny bit's fine?" She asked no one in particular as she poured a small amount on to a saucer and placed it on the floor, uttering a silent prayer that she wouldn't find a hairball in her shoes.

Milk, one sugar. The coffee machine whirred as she made the drinks, vibrating loudly on the counter as she stirred and handed it to him. "Oooh!" Poesy gushed quickly as she cradled her cup, blowing across the hot contents. "That's great news," she nodded, smiling at the way he said the word. "I think a couple of these do," she motioned to the machines and the large fridge. "It's actually a lot easier to use that rather than magic. Things blow up a little bit less." She frowned. She did not like microwaves. How was she supposed to know not to put a baked potato wrapped in tinfoil in it?

The petite blonde watched the chaos unfold dejectedly, very much looking every bit the picture of a cat owner. She placed her cup down and grabbed a small bin, opening it up for Hunter with a wan smile. "Thanks," she said quickly as she meant it. "Was he a good house guest for you?" Poesy asked Hunter as the cat gambolled around, chasing the light. "Aw," she sighed. Cats were jerks, she agreed, but look how cute they were. Freddie was instantly forgiven. She could get another pot.

Pancakes? Poesy clapped her hands in recognition. "Yes!" She agreed as she moved around, slipping on a pale yellow apron and tying it behind her waist. The frying pan was out and heating as she set out plates and cutlery, popping a blueberry into her mouth as she went. Swallowing, she nodded. "It's going really well, people seem to like it," she said brightly as she cracked the eggs and whisked in the milk.

"I'm thinking about maybe having some open evenings?" She said, asking for his opinion as she clicked the heat higher. "Like poetry events and knitting and art shows, maybe once a month." With that, she carefully added flour and poured in the mixture to the pan and added a handful of berries. "This place is three storeys," she told Hunter, loving how rickety the building was. "I live on the top but there's a space just above and I hate the idea of it being empty. You should come," she told Hunter with a bright smile as she flipped the pancakes.

Poesy used a table spoon to make a few very small, blueberry-less pancakes for Freddie, shifting them aside to add in some slices of bacon and dodging out the way as the fat began to sizzle. "I'm alright," she laughed and added as an afterthought, flipping over the pancakes and the bacon, keeping an eye on Freddie the way a mother would a toddler. "I think I'm pretty much settled. I went speed dating," she divulged with a melodramatic and horrified look. "I don't think I'm cut out for it. Could you please pass me those plates?" She asked. "We can sit by the window."

It was years since Hunter had thought of that video, or the song or even the muggle music he'd used to listen to when he was growing up. Back then there had always been a succession of Jimmy's friends sleeping in back rooms and on floors, and Hunter had enjoyed whatever music the adults had listened to. Since he'd been living alone, there had been very little music in his life aside from what he heard on other peoples' radios.

“Oh, go on! I promise to join in as soon as I remember how it goes” he joked, not really expecting Poesy to start singing. Not having much of a singing voice himself, Hunter rather hoped the young woman was going to decline and was rather pleased that they had the cat as a built-in distraction.

Can cats have milk? Hunter felt a sudden sense of unease. It hadn't even occurred to him that they couldn't, and he'd just offered Norman Freddie whatever happened to be in the kitchen without stopping to think whether it was good for cats. “He likes cheese, and that's made from milk, so...I guess a bit is okay?” the man guessed, thinking that he also liked chocolate, lukewarm half-cups of tea and leftover hamburgers but deciding not to mention that. In his admittedly limited experience, most animals seemed to know what was good for them and rarely got sick. They were cleverer than humans, in that respect.

“You too, huh? Jimmy used to get really mad at me for trying to stick my wand in those little wall holes to see how they worked” Hunter admitted. He understood why it had freaked his adopted Dad out now and actually, the thought of how he'd almost fried himself on multiple occasions was a little scary. He sent the broken pieces sailing into the bin as he spoke, leaving the floor virtually clean.

“He was fine. He mostly just liked sitting on the windowsill watching the birds. Well, that and getting under my feet when I was making something to eat. Hence me finding out he likes eggs” Hunter said with a grin, looking towards the little cat who was now luxuriously stretched out full length in the warmest sunbeam.

He was glad the cafe was doing well. Even if he did feel a little guilty for not coming back recently. Cafes weren't really Hunter's scene, it was much more likely to find the young reporter in a pub serving real ale, but already those pancakes were smelling amazing. “That's a great idea. Let me know when you've got something organised, I can write something about it if you like? I know, you're thinking sport's more my thing, but I can write about other stuff...and I know who to send the articles to to get them published. If you get someone to take photos I reckon you could get a feature in the Daily Prophet” Even though Hunter had had no interest in the idea of a poetry event (whatever that involved) five minutes earlier, he genuinely liked the idea of helping out where he could.

Hunter's stomach rumbled at the smell of the pancakes and he grinned sheepishly as he reached for the plates. “Speed dating? I've heard of that but...I don't think it'd be my thing, either. How well can you get to know someone in just a few minutes? And what if they were really your soulmate, but they had hayfever and the very first time you met, they sneezed and put you off? You'd never know what you were missing...” he was laughing now, even as it occurred to him that he couldn't really remember the last time he'd been on a proper date. Hunter's few relationships had been almost accidental, usually friends who had turned into something more. The idea of going out and looking for someone...he wouldn't know where to start.

He glanced over to where Poesy had indicated. The street was a little busier now, just a few people heading early to work and shops starting to open. “So what happened? With the speed dating, I mean. Did you meet anyone interesting? Or...no, you don't want to do that!” he finished in a different tone, reaching for the cat that had made a stupendous leap up onto the counter. He picked the furry thing up before any more crockery could get damaged. “I think you and I should go over here...out of trouble...and behave ourselves” he said, carrying the cat over to the window seat.

"Next time, maybe," Poesy deflected kindly and effortlessly before she joined in with his laughter. The phrase "nails on a blackboard" or "a bag of strangled cats" seemed to describe her singing voice. Did that stop her? Absolutely not. She lived alone, she needed something loud to fill up the space.

Freddie liked cheese. She tilted her head as he seemed to enjoy the saucer of milk, flicking her eyes over to Hunter with another smile. It made sense. "I bought some organic cat food," she announced quickly, taking to cat motherhood like a duck to water - she cared what he ate, bought him comfortable things, tried to enrich his life with play and toys and worried when he didn't come home. But he seemed happier hoovering up cheddar cheese. She sighed quickly as she scratched her head. "I don't know what I'm going to do with it now."

Poesy's eyes widened as Hunter spoke. "Wait, what?" She asked, dumbfounded that he'd consider sticking anything into one of those little socket things. She didn't really understand how electricity worked but she knew not to do that so she laughed. "Well, thank goodness for Jimmy that you live to fight another day." Hunter was a handsome chap, he could probably look pretty good with his hair standing on end.

Her eyes flicked to Freddie who had rolled over onto his back, without a care in the world. "Must be great to be a cat," Poesy mused, smiling again. "It's his bloody tail that does that," she added sagely with a nod of her head. It was very fluffy and surprisingly strong when it wrapped around her leg. She wasn't sure if he was a feline or a boa constrictor.

But she looked up sharply as Hunter kindly mentioned writing an article about her. Her heart stopped for a beat or two as her hand tightened around the handle of her spatula so much that her knuckles turned white. "Erm," she said intelligently. Her overriding feeling was fear. While she wasn't exactly hiding and she only had one or two skeletons in her closet, the notion of having her name in the national papers was terrifying.

She bit her lip, accidentally quiet as she listened. It would be a great exposure for the coffee shop. While Deja Brew was doing well now, there was a possibility that it wouldn't always. Poesy should really bank the cash now. While this wasn't what she'd really set out to do, she'd fallen in love. And it was just an article. And it was Hunter. He was kind and genuine and she hoped he wouldn't twist her words. She'd read an article on Charlie Baker that was downright inflammatory but as much as she didn't like the musician, she didn't want to suffer a similar fate.

"Oh, photos," she whispered to herself, catching sight of her reflection in the front of a shiny coffee machine and flinched. "You'll be there though, won't you?" Poesy asked Hunter, her pretty face creasing in concern. She didn't know how to pose for photos. The family ones she'd been in as a child had her looking like she'd been dragged through a hedge backwards. She always managed to blink at the wrong time. Absently, she touched a lock of her hair. She'd need to dye it. She'd found a grey hair that morning. Oh, the pancakes were burning.

Hastily, Poesy lifted them out of the pan and flopped them on to the waiting plates. "I'll think about it," she told Hunter with a small smile. It wasn't a no. He was being very generous and she appreciated the offer but she was always in her head. But this wasn't about her. She busied herself by adding a small dollop of yoghurt next to the pancakes before adding chopped fruit and the bacon. "You know what? Let's do it," she announced with a nod, hoping her boost of courage wouldn't fizzle out.

She snorted. "You don't," the potioneer added lightly because she really hadn't gotten chance to get to know anyone in a few minutes. She sipped at her coffee distractedly. "It wasn't terrible," she assured him. "It just seemed a bit...unnatural?" She ventured cautiously. Unusual. Stressful. She couldn't imagine those dates having a particularly high success rate but she'd met Ashley - he was pretty cool.

Poesy laughed again, deep and throaty and genuinely tickled as he spoke about sneezing. She grimaced sympathetically. "Bad luck," she joked. "I don't really believe in soulmates, though," she said but not impolitely. It had caused fights between friends previously because she was soft and quiet and meek and daydream-y but when it came to love, she wasn't an idiot. She looked over at him with a quick smile. "Not to say I think you're daft if you do," she clarified with a blush.

Freddie lunged and she gave a squeak, snatching the plates out of reach of his little paws. "That's going to be a problem," she mused with a frown. She'd heard of training dogs but training cats? She snorted. Picking up the plates of food and some cutlery, she followed suit, setting them down as she dropped into a seat. Swiftly, she broke off a small piece of crispy bacon and held it out for the cat. So much for establishing a routine. She put down a small pot of jam, honey and maple syrup, which she added a liberal amount of to her stack of pancakes.

"Honestly, thanks for looking after Freddie," she told Hunter genuinely. "Not everyone would have been so sweet." She dreaded to think that someone might not have been as understanding. Sure, Freddie was as mad as a box of frogs but Poesy had never had a pet before and this was her first foray into pet ownership. If someone could ever truly own a cat. She didn't think they could. "Tuck in!" She encouraged him quickly as she gestured to the breakfast.


so sorry for the length! D: <33]

“Why, didn't he like it?” Hunter asked, confused. So far the cat had cheerfully eaten whatever meat or dairy scraps it had been offered, directly form the floor or whatever plates Hunter had happened to have to hand. Then he realised that perhaps Poesy thought he wanted to keep the cat.  “No, really - I think he's still yours. He's only been coming to me for breakfast. I reckon he forgot where you lived until we brought him down the street...or maybe he came home too late when you were out or something, and just went exploring. Cats do that” Privately the young man suspected this was the sort of cat that liked having several homes. Probably it took itself off somewhere else for afternoon tea and had an understanding with somebody else for Sunday brunch. There was no reason why Freddie wouldn't enjoy the organic cat food now he remembered where to come. 

“Yeah, Jimmy's a great guy. Probably the only muggle ever to go to a Quidditch World cup, too...” Hunter added, grinning at the memory “we must have been insane. Still, at least he got to see all the stuff I'd been talking about for years.” He reached out and petted the cat, which butted its head affectionately against his hand as it purred.

Hunter was a bit surprised that Poesy seemed reluctant now, having suggested an art show in the first place. He supposed she cold just put a sign outside the shop, but that would only attract the attention of people who were already in Diagon Alley. “Sure, I'll be there. Anyway, you need publicity, otherwise how are people gonna know about it? Don't worry about photos. We can do something arty. You know - hands holding a plate of cupcakes, that kind of thing...” Hunter knew little about photography, but he'd seen enough pictures accompanying his articles to have an idea of what would look good. "Whatever you want, though" he assured her "and no rush. Just let me know when you're ready to organise something."

He agreed that the whole idea of speed dating was unnatural. So did the whole concept of dating as far as Hunter was concerned. If you met someone and liked them, that was one thing, but actually going out with the intention of finding someone always seemed a bit weird. As for soulmates, that was... “No, me either, though I guess some people really do manage the whole love at first sight thing” was what he actually said. Not that he knew anyone who had. Hunter hadn't really had many examples of decent relationships in his life though.

As Poesy brought the plates and food over, Hunter placed the cat on the windowsill, where it immediately reached out with a little furry paw until she offered it a piece of bacon. “Um...you know, he probably thinks you're rewarding him for good behaviour” Hunter offered as he briefly considered honey or maple syrup before choosing the latter. He added artistic swirls to his pancakes and was just about to take the first bite when there was a familiar scrabbling on the floor. “Jacko?” he muttered, and sure enough something grabbed and climbed up his trouser leg and a small whiskered nose appeared, sniffling at the table.

“Did you follow me all the way here? Clever girl...” Hunter began, before realising that some people weren't always thrilled by his choice of pet. “Um...Poesy, I'd like you to meet Jacko. I mean, if you're okay with rats, that is? I can send her outside if you want? Sorry, I thought she was asleep at home...” Belatedly he realised that a rat in a cafe - even a clean, well-trained one - wasn't everyone's idea of a good idea.

[OOC: No problem! I hope Poesy's okay with rats xD]

"Not in particular," Poesy added with a thoughtful frown as she scratched her eyebrow. It didn't really occur to her that eggs, ham, cheese and crumbs might be a lot more palatable than whatever had been sitting in a can for months. Hunter was being kind, though, and she offered him a tired smile. "Thanks," she offered softly. Hearing that it was normal cat behaviour sort of took the edge off. "Cat parenting is hard," she admitted with a laugh, deciding that Freddie would be getting sausages this evening after learning absolutely nothing.

Her smile grew as Hunter mentioned his step-dad. "It must have been wild," she agreed fondly. There was a twinge of pain in her heart when she heard how weird, wonderful and stressful it must have been for the older man to try and fit in in their world. But he'd tried. And succeeded. It seemed so strange to her to be awarded with a peek into what a normal family looked like. "Bring him by here one day," she offered. "I'd love to meet him."

Poesy then let out a breath she hadn't realised she'd been holding. Hunter was so nice. A genuinely lovely young man and she must look like a complete lunatic. "Sorry," she apologised again with a laugh. A broken engagement wasn't exactly a skeleton in her closet and there was no way Alexandre was going to see the article and hot-foot it to London. "That sounds really nice, thank you," Poesy offered with a quick smile. "As soon as I get set up, I'll definitely let you know." It wasn't about her being uncomfortable. She had a business to run (and a cat to feed) so she needed to stop being such a baby.

She hated to be cynical but with Hunter saying he wasn't mad keen on the idea of soul mates either, it made her feel less of a bitter lemon. People either dated to marry or dated to break up, it was very black and white to her. "Well, good luck to them," she finally managed to say as she crossed her legs at the knee and nodded. "I think they're all bonkers, oh no!"

The reporter's observation made her throw her hands to her face in dismay. "Really?" She whispered as Freddie happily munched on the illegal snack. Her shoulders slumped. "That really explains a lot," she added morosely with another frown - all she wanted was the cat to like her. "I'll have to buy a book and read it," she paused. "Or not." Then she blinked. "I should chill out, right? I mean, I don't --" then she let out a blood curdling scream.

Instantly, Poesy's feet were off the floor as she curled herself into the foetal position on her chair. Her eyes were wide and her heart was beating so fast, she could feel it in her throat. "That's a rat," she whispered dumbly as she fixated on the little creature who seemed content to snuggle up to Hunter. The rat's name was Jacko and she frowned. He'd used that name before and she just assumed it was his girlfriend. Or his boyfriend. She frowned.

"How did it get in?" Poesy asked, confused and shaky. "She, sorry," she corrected herself as she eyed the little bundle warily. Freddie didn't seem that bothered. She let out a shaky laugh. "Of course, I love rats!" The blonde exclaimed in a high pitched voice that sounded very unlike her own. Despite what she'd said, she was still curled up tightly and her arms were starting to sting due to how tightly she was grabbing her knees.
With a long finger, she pushed a small piece of pancake towards Jacko as a peace offering. "She's --" she was what? Vermin? A disease carrying rodent? "Cute," she managed to reply with a quick smile.


[she can learn to! xD]

Hunter grinned and said without thinking “You think cats are hard, you want to try watching over a kid!” During the war he'd helped several muggleborn kids (and sometimes their parents) find safe places to stay, and then there was Moxie, the way she'd turned up again last year, looking for her Dad...at least that story had a happy ending.  He seemed to just attract strays, and then it would have been wrong not to take care of them. Briefly forgetting that Poesy knew nothing of his post-school history he moved straight on to talking about Jimmy.

“He would love that! He'd love to meet you, too, he doesn't really know many magical people - well, apart from me and Mamma, that is” Hunter's voice took on a slightly foreign tone as he used the Icelandic word for Mum, the one he'd always used when growing up “It's a shame muggles can't learn magic, he'd have fitted right in...” Admittedly, Jimmy would probably have fitted in selling dodgy robes out of a suitcase in the street, but Hunter didn't mention that part. “Watch him, though. He likes to flirt with everyone!”

"Don't be sorry. I'm not trying to make you do something you don't want to, y'know? Not everyone likes getting interviewed or photographed, even if they're famous" Hunter was speaking from experience here; just because someone was a great Quidditch player didn't mean they were happy talking about themselves to strangers, as he'd found out on occasion. The trick there was to turn the grunted, monosyllabic replies into something interesting. He could understand why some reporters used Quick-Quotes quills, it was a lot easier to write a good story when you didn't have to think about it. That wasn't Hunter's style, though. He much preferred to find out something about a person and get them to talk about it, even if he did end up submitting an interview that described his subject's favourite restaurant or a book they'd read recently.

"Maybe it really does happen that way for some people, though?" he mused. "You know, they see someone and they think, that's it, that's the person I want to spend the rest of my life with..." he sounded dubious though, and clearly didn't really believe what he was saying. That sort of thing only happened in stories. "Or maybe someone slipped a potion into their drinks!" he added with a grin before turning slightly in his seat to look at the little cat.

"Yeah, but don't worry. He'll learn quickly if you just...what?" Hunter's eyes grew wide as Poesy curled up and screamed, and he pushed his chair back expecting something terrible, already reaching for his wand.

Oh. He should have made sure his window was closed...though Jacko knew how to get out of the smallest gaps and if she wanted to follow, she would. The others were less bothered, as long as he left out some snacks for them, and there was always a dish of rat pellets together with pieces of fresh vegetable on the kitchen floor. Right now they were last night's vegetables, so probably a bit wilted by now, but the rats weren't likely to complain. "Sorry. I didn't know she'd followed me. She probably came under the door, or found an air vent...she's pretty smart" he said as little paws picked up the piece of pancake. Once she had it gripped firmly he lifted her onto the floor. "Jacko...AWAY" he said firmly. The rat twitched her whiskers, the transferred the treat to her mouth and ran towards the door.

"It's okay, she'll stay outside for now. Well, she should stay outside..." he amended. When the food was this good sometimes even the best-trained rat wasn't able to resist, and these pancakes were among the best he'd tasted. Hunter felt bad that he'd given the poor girl such a scare. Really, it didn't bother him that some people didn't like rats, so long as they didn't hurt them and she obviously wasn't going to do that. "I'm sorry, really. She normally knows better than to show herself like that, it's just...the food, y'know?" he took another bite of pancake before reaching a little tentatively across the table and asking "Are you okay?"

"I love kids," Poesy said quickly with a bright smile. Could she handle a child? No, she could barely look after herself. Did she want some one day? Sure. She didn't really think they were in her future but she had plenty of time to meet someone. "I feel like cats are cheaper," she joked before offering Hunter a big bright smile.

 "Perfect," she clapped her hands together excitedly. Without commenting, the potioneer tilted her head to the left curiously as Hunter spoke a tongue she didn't recognise. "I'm sure he would," she agreed with a gentle nod of his head. "I'm not going to blow his mind with all those potion vials, am I?" She grinned, nodding to the back wall that was stuffed full of them. How much trouble would she get into if she gave his dad one? Like a small one, nothing dangerous. Jimmy was already exposed to magic through his son, so what was the harm?

Instead of voicing it, she snorted. "Funny," she replied gamely. "I've not been flirted with for a long time, so I'm keen to get back on the horse." So to speak.

Hunter was a really sweet man and Poesy appreciated him talking her off a metaphorical ledge. Poesy was the type of person who was never really "ready". She had to continually force herself otherwise the fear would take over and she'd become paralysed and unable to do anything at all. She'd missed out on two many opportunities this way and she was determined not to let that happen again. "I might have a mums and baby group," she announced. "You can help me wrangle the sprogs," she grinned, putting out feelers for another possible hang out situation. "Don't photograph me there, though," she warned him quickly. "I'll be running after kids all day and sweating like a pig," she concluded with wide eyes.

The banter was nice but she couldn't help but feel like she'd overstepped the mark. Poesy usually had a good hold on her cynicism but sometimes it crept out, like today. "Must be nice," she added with a smile. She imagined falling in love felt like a lightning bolt out of the blue but it was more a sudden realisation after spending time with someone, a slow burn. "Here's hoping we experience that." Then, she laughed as she followed his gaze, stopping on her potion bottles. If she had less scrupulous morals, she'd be doing exactly that.

But she'd overreacted. She really hadn't meant to scream as she saw the little rat appear but she couldn't help it - she didn't like surprises.

"An air vent," she echoed Hunter in a whisper, covering her hands with her eyes as the image of a swarm (horde? pack? plague?) crawling around her heating pipes. "Oh crikey," she whimpered as the rat happily paid attention to Hunter. The rat was smart, he'd said, and she believed him. The rat followed him like a dog and she couldn't shake the feeling that it might show up again uninvited when she was alone and her stomach turned. If it had a good memory and knew the street layout, it'd be unstoppable.

Poesy didn't lower her hands until she heard the little pitter-patter of claws on her lovely clean floor. Hunter commanded his pet away and a pang of guilt sprung up from nowhere. Realistically, keeping a rat as a pet was no different than keeping a dog or a rabbit or a lizard...except none of those had beady little eyes and twitchy little whiskers and a creepy long tail. Her full lips down turned into a frown. "Sorry," she admitted as the colour came back to her face but her skin was still cool and clammy. The poor little thing hadn't done anything wrong and she had left the door open. His fingers touched hers and she looked up quickly - panic over.

She flushed deeply, all the way up to the roots of her hair. Maybe that old saying you don't live further than three metres from a rat was actually true. Hunter said she kept herself hidden and another wave of uncomfortable guilt hit her. Why was she hidden? She wasn't that bad. She was a terrible person. She'd probably spooked little Jacqueline -- Jackie? Jasmine? Jacomo?

"I'm fine!" Poesy finally answered, her voice sounding hoarse as she cleared her throat. In her panic, it felt like her tongue was stuck to the roof of her mouth. Her hand went to her warm cheeks as she fanned herself. "So you keep rats?" She asked, looking a bit frazzled as she gingerly uncurled herself and set her feet back on to the floor, her muscles screaming in protest as the blood rushed back in. She picked up her knife and fork and cut up her bacon, as though she hadn't just made a holy show of herself. She wanted the floor to open up and swallow her whole.

Oh yeah, they're definitely cheaper. Plus if they get pregnant, you can sell the results" he joked, and then flushed, looking guilty and hoping Poesy wasn't going to be horribly offended by what he'd just said. It was true though. He'd made more than a few galleons down the years selling young rats to new owners. People liked a pet that was smart enough to take care of itself. He decided not to make the comparison though.

"I'll bring him along one day. Probably when it's fairly quiet, because...well, you know" he said. Even several years after the war there were still people who judged others on their blood status, and while muggles who were related to child wizards were once again allowed in Diagon Alley, it was a bit of a grey area whether they were still welcome once that child was the wrong side of 25. It had been well over a decade since Jimmy had accompanied Hunter to get his school shopping. "I'll just remind him not to touch anything in case his hair turns green" Hunter added with a grin.

Then the grin faded, but only because he made a mock-serious expression. "Wait...am I flirting? Is this flirting? And who are you calling a horse?" he teased, looking apparently shocked and very serious. That lasted for all of five seconds, because he didn't want Poesy to think he had misunderstood what she'd said, and then he took the opportunity to devour another pancake. But then his smile disappeared for real, and the colour all but drained from his face.

Babies and toddlers? Now that was something Hunter had zero experience with. He was fine with kids once they were old enough to have a conversation with, maybe five or six years old, but any younger than that... The horror must have really shown in his face when he added "You might have gathered, I'm an only child. Never had to help with little brothers or sisters... I mean, if you want me about as far out of my comfort zone as its possible to get... How about you?" Surely he'd once known if Poesy had siblings, but for the life of him he couldn't remember now. "It would be a great picture though. Very candid" he teased. "Anyway it won't be me taking the photos, not if it was for the Prophet. They'd send a proper photographer along. You know, a really good looking one. With a French accent..."

At some point in the conversation Hunter realised that he liked Poesy. Might even like like her, and that was pretty rare. Oh, he was never short of friends, and he'd certainly had relationships in the past, but they'd all been sort of... accidental. He didn't go out looking for women or men in the way a lot of people seemed to. He didn't see a girl walking down the street and think 'wow, she's hot!' It was more that he would get to know someone and then at some point his mind would point out that he was actually starting to care about them and think how attractive they were. He was surprised to have this though over breakfast with Poesy. Then she said something that..."What?" he asked, unsure if he'd heard correctly, and his heart beat a little faster. No, she just meant 'us' in general, like 'I hope we win the cup' or 'lets hope we don't get caught in the rain' he told himself firmly.

He was actually glad that Jacko had put in an appearance, because it distracted him from what he was thinking just then. Talking calmly about rats - that was something he could manage. "It's okay" he said, starting to reach across the table to pat her hand reassuringly and then realising just in time what he was about to do. He turned the movement into running his fingers through his hair instead, hoping she hadn't noticed.

"Yeah, since just before I started at Hogwarts. Same day I got my wand, we were living in a decent squat at that time, and a rat came out from the skirting board, just as I was about to go to bed. Mamma wanted to chase it away but...well, I figured I'd like a pet to take to school with me. So, yeah...most of my rats are descended from that first one. They're just smarter than the rats you get in shops, you know?" Clearly poor Poesy didn't know, so Hunter followed her lead and ate his bacon quietly, until another thought struck him. One that would actually be useful, and give him another excuse to come here regularly. "Mind you, if I can train rats, maybe some of it would work with a cat as well" he suggested "I mean, you don't need Freddie to find food for you, but if he can learn not to jump up on counters, come when he's called, stuff like that..." In theory it was a fine plan, but in practise clearly Hunter knew very little about cats.