Harry Potter: Reunion with the Enemy

late at night.

In the rental house, Lancelot was looking at several design sketches on the table and had no desire to sleep.

The noise coming from all directions told him that he was not the only one who couldn't sleep in this residential building that had been cut into small rooms for rent.

The French couple next door quarreled every day, and the sounds of various objects being thrown and broken were mixed in with the incomprehensible curses. The baby of the single mother upstairs occasionally cried like the end of the world was coming. From time to time, the room where four runaway teenagers lived together could be heard with unpleasant electric guitar sounds and ghostly singing. Of course, there were also Chinese neighbors, who often cooked late at night, and the aroma of various meals wafted through the corridor, quietly covering up the smell of garbage, dust and mold, and making the neighbors who ate cold sandwiches every day occasionally want to open the door and smell the aroma of cooking.

They seemed to be cooking fish soup today. Lancelot smelled the smell and couldn't help but analyze his neighbor's recipe.

Lancelot always hated eating fish, not because of the ingredients themselves, but because he never added any seasoning when cooking. As a single wizard with low material desires, practicality and speed are the top priorities, but the fishy smell of fish without seasoning is simply a disaster. By the way, fish has so many bones that it is not convenient to swallow it in one bite and work quickly.

"Meow——" The sound of a cat came from outside the door.

Lancelot looked towards the door but didn't stand up. He might as well wait for the beggar to go away. He tried to focus on the design. The night was long and there was still time to add some details.

"Meow~meow~meow~" sounds pitiful.

In Lancelot's 40-square-meter rental house, the available space is very limited. The workbench occupies nearly half of the empty space, and other furniture and facilities seem to be crammed in at random. Opposite the stove is the bathroom sink, and the bed for sleeping is next to the narrow balcony. The windows on the balcony are always covered with thick curtains, because the buildings here are very close to each other, and Lancelot does not want to spy on strangers in the next building, and the gemstone raw materials in the room are not easy to be discovered by others.

This place is like a cage.

"I shouldn't keep a cat in a cage." Lancelot said to himself, but he could clearly hear the cat outside his door, tapping its claws on the wood of the door frame, making a small sound.

The teenagers who were practicing electronic music next door stopped, and they also heard the cat's cry. After a mess of footsteps, the sound of a cat being thrown to the ground came from outside the door, accompanied by its shrill scream.

Lancelot stood up, opened the door in two steps and rushed into the corridor: "What are you doing! Let it go."

This is a silver cat. Although it is being abused by several boys by grabbing its tail, its ice-blue eyes are undoubtedly looking at him.

Lancelot was about to say something foul when he froze, because the cat's scream stopped the moment he opened the door. After seeing him open the door, the silver cat quickly grabbed the boy's trouser leg and fiercely left several deep claw marks on the back of its hand.

After taking revenge, the cat ran straight to Lancelot's room without looking back.

"I'm bleeding!" the electronic music boy screamed in disbelief.

"You deserve this. Get away from me." Lancelot replied coldly and slammed the door.

Behind him, the silver cat had already walked around the small rectangular room in a patrolling manner.

It jumped over the fitness dumbbells in the corner of the room, counted the few robes and Muggle clothes in the closet, took a look at the bland leftovers in the trash can, passed by the relatively clean bed, pulled open the tightly covered curtains with a paw, and finally stood for a long time in front of the jewelry workbench with the lamp on.

The silver cat seemed to be attracted by the exquisite jewelry in the cabinet. It jumped onto the workbench and seemed to be reading a design sketch.

Lancelot grabbed it from the workbench and took it away: "Not here, don't step on it and make it dirty. I've been painting for a long time." Then he walked to the window and pulled up the curtains: "Although the air is not well ventilated - but if you don't draw the curtains in this building, you're broadcasting live to the next building."

Why was he trying to communicate with the cat? It couldn't understand him anyway. Lancelot frowned secretly.

"Meow." The silver cat responded lightly, jumped off the workbench obediently, then rushed to the sink and turned on the faucet with its paws.

Wow—wow—wow.

Lancelot stared in amazement as the silver cat took a shower by itself, washing off the plaster and garbage debris it had rubbed off on the corridor. Then it stared at him with its slightly upturned ice-blue cat eyes.

Cats are so smart?

"Meow~" The silver cat turned off the faucet, but lay in the sink without moving. It shouted to its new owner not far away.

"What's wrong now?" Lancelot walked to the pool.

The silver cat meowed lazily, rubbed a paw on his clothes, and then stared at him again.

"Oh." Lancelot fumbled with a spell to dry the cat, and then he got a clean, fresh and fluffy silver kitten. It jumped lightly onto Lancelot's shoulder.

"You're quite heavy." Feeling the weight of the cat, Lancelot had to hold it with his hands to prevent it from falling.

"Meow meow meow?" The silver cat jumped onto the dining table like it had exploded and kept walking back and forth, showing off its body, as if to say: Am I fat? Am I fat? Am I fat?

But Lancelot did not understand its intention, and cooked simple cat food for it: boiled meat slices without oil or salt.

In order to leave the impression that the new owner was easy to feed and had a harmonious life, the silver cat ate everything without leaving a single bite.

Although it looked like vomiting while eating.

"It's getting late, let's get some rest." Lancelot turned off the desk lamp, washed up quickly, and then lay down heavily on the bed.

In the darkness, he felt a warm body approaching and stopping beside his pillow. Lancelot reached out and stroked the cat's soft fur.

He felt its heartbeat.

The next morning, Lancelot woke up from a deep sleep. He subconsciously touched the pillow, and the cat was gone.

It only took a minute to search every corner of the room and it was really gone.

A corner of the curtain was lifted by the breeze, and the unfamiliar fragrance of flowers outside came into the house.

He ran away after all. Lancelot sighed.

He opened the curtains with a hint of expectation, but was stunned by the scene before him. A dense vine had grown outside the window overnight. The drooping branches and flowers just blocked the view of the outside world.

The sunlight shines into the house through the gaps between the branches.

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The Daily Prophet building. Lunch time.

The female colleague took a look at Ed's lunch box and started to fuss: "Oh, why did you eat so little today? Don't you eat dessert every day?"

"Body management." Ed munched on the leaves calmly.

"Oh, you are already the best-looking male colleague in the entire editorial department." Other female colleagues came over to observe Ed's meals, and then beat their chests and stamped their feet to express their lack of self-discipline.

"Some people say I'm heavy." Ed rubbed his eyebrows, and while suppressing the sleepiness caused by the change of environment, he sent a bunch of tough suggestions for content revisions to the writer, ordering him to make the changes quickly.

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Today's tomb search went smoothly.

When Lancelot walked out of the tomb area, he found that he could see the sunset. He grabbed the bag full of treasures and hesitated whether to go directly to Brick Lane to wait for the Night Watch Black Market to open, and sell some of the goods that could not be used as raw materials and could not be recycled by the goblins.

But for some unknown reason he headed towards the rental house.

Even bought a few fish at the nearby Muggle market.

Does your cat prefer raw or cooked fish? If it never shows up again, you'll have to get rid of the fish yourself.

But he was not disappointed.

When he walked through the dirty corridor and arrived at the door of his rental house, the silver furry figure had been waiting there for a long time.