Finally welcome the return journey
The volunteer sighed, donned his gloves, entered the enclosure, and separated the cat from its recent adversaries, placing them in different cages.
"This cat," the volunteer complained, pointing to the tortoiseshell, "is the fiercest fighter I've ever seen. When we found her, her hind legs were severely injured, nearly necrotic, but she still managed to make several dogs howl. No one at our station can handle her."
Midgen moved closer to the cage. The tortoiseshell cat stared at her cautiously with its yellow-green eyes wide open, then let out a soft, raspy meow.
"Well, are you in a good mood today, Miss Heathcliff?" the volunteer said, lifting the cage and moving the cat away from its defeated foes—the other cats were glaring at the tortoiseshell with resentment, while she clung tightly to the bottom of the cage, her gaze fixed on Midgen.
Midgen followed, asking, "Does she have a name?"
"That's just what we call her," the volunteer replied. "You know, a devilish creature but sometimes worthy of sympathy... though she is indeed a young lady."
Anthony chuckled. "Sounds like you have quite a few complaints about this lady."
Midgen stared at the cat and said, "I think... I think... she kind of likes me."
She cautiously extended a finger, placing it near the edge of the cage. At that moment, Anthony realized that this girl had a fondness for cats with a strong fighting spirit. This cat, which had bested all the others at the rescue shelter, was perfect for her.
The cat approached, sniffed her finger, slowly closed its eyes, and leisurely dangled its tail outside the cage.
The volunteer, unsurprised, remarked, "She's very good with visitors."
"Heath... uh, miss." Midgen, who clearly hadn't read the Muggle book referenced, asked, "Can I pet her?" She gently slid her fingers through the bars and stroked the multicolored fur.
"Oh, so soft," she murmured. The tortoiseshell cat slowly turned around, rested her head against Midgen's finger, and rubbed affectionately.
Midgen's face lit up with a surprised yet gentle smile. The volunteer, seizing the moment, opened the cage and released the tortoiseshell cat.
The fourth-year Hufflepuff declined the offered glove and gently reached out to stroke the little devil of a cat. The tortoiseshell immediately began to purr contentedly, closed its eyes, and curled up at her feet.
…
Anthony watched for a while, satisfied that everything was under control, before heading back to the interactive area to check on how the other students were doing with the pets available for adoption.
Fred was laughing and rolling around with a large brown dog, scratching its head and neck with both hands, while his own hair was getting covered in slobber; George was holding up dog treats and jumping to tease a group of small dogs that barely reached his knees.
Several puppies were lying next to a student who was so tired he had slumped in the corner. They gazed up at him with wet, adoring eyes, making him scratch the base of their ears gently.
A few students had already chosen the pets they wanted to adopt and were confirming their selections with Ms. Howard. The more impatient ones had already asked for copies of the application process manual and were poring over them.
"Adequate living space, healthy food, patient company..." one student read aloud, shrugging. "Seems simple enough. I'll have an extra cat on the way back."
His friend reminded him, "Hold on, there's an age limit. Not all of us meet it yet."
The student looked more carefully at the following suggested terms: "Wait a minute, we also need to prove financial stability. How do we do that? Invite the rescue center to visit a Gringotts vault?"
"Look at this part. We also need to fill out a questionnaire about lifestyle, living conditions, and pet preferences," his friend pointed out in the manual. "Based on what we've learned in class, if we answer truthfully, they'll definitely think we're all bonkers."
He raised his voice slightly and whispered sarcastically, "Yes, I live in a castle with no electricity. My favorite thing at the moment is a broomstick, which I spend hours with every weekend. No, sir, I have no idea what cleaning the house means—I've never had to do that."
Another student chimed in, "Why do I want a cat? Ha, because I don't want a toad and I already have an owl. Wait, don't go, this actually makes sense. But I can't explain it in detail because I don't want to end up in, ah, Azkaban."
They laughed for a long time at the imagined scenario and eventually decided to take the question to Anthony. After all, the professor had said that if they wanted to adopt a pet, they should consult him after the practical activity. He's a professor—he must have a solution.
…
The one-hour interactive session passed quickly, and Anthony called the students back, who were now covered in cat and dog hair.
He couldn't help but marvel at how thoroughly the students managed to dishevel themselves in such a short time. Not to mention the Gryffindors, who looked like they were wearing sweaters made of fur, there were many students whose clothes were stained with dust and whose hair was a mess, as if they had been plucked from the roadside by the rescue team.
The students, usually neat and tidy, seemed to forget they'd have to carry all that fur and dust with them until they returned to Diagon Alley.
Volunteers also emerged with Midgen, who smiled gratefully at Ms. Howard.
Ms. Howard asked, "Did you find a cat you like?"
Midgen nodded. The volunteer, with a hint of disbelief, added, "This young lady has been a big hit with Miss Heathcliff."
"The cat?" Ms. Howard clarified.
"Yes, ma'am," the volunteer said, "you should have seen how affectionate she was."
"I'd rather not," Ms. Howard replied firmly.
…
As they passed by the donation box at the entrance of the shelter, several students took out the coins Anthony had given them, hesitated for a moment, then tossed in one or two. The coins clinked softly against the mix of other donations—coins and banknotes.
One student dropped in all three pounds.
"I can't possibly adopt any of them," he said calmly, "but this afternoon was really fun, and I'm happy to pay for the experience."
The other students spent their little bit of money carefully, buying trinkets as they walked back to Charing Cross Road with Anthony.
Some were drawn to pocket books, others to chess sets that couldn't move or talk, and a few opted for the cheapest refrigerator magnets. Given that they wouldn't need the items anyway, buying the cheapest one seemed like a wise choice. Besides, whether it was the "refrigerator," the "magnet," or the simple word "dog" on the sticker, all were very much in line with the theme of this Muggle Studies field trip.
However, once Anthony bought himself a sausage, things started to get out of hand.
The students suddenly realized that their professor had more than just three pounds in his pocket. Those who had been planning to pool their money to buy something better gathered around Anthony, asking if they could exchange Sickles or Knuts for more Muggle currency.
After a brief debate, Anthony held up his wallet and announced that each person could exchange no more than five pounds. After all, he hadn't brought that much money with him.