It was nearly dark in an increasingly cold start to winter, and Fred hunched his shoulders against the wind nipping at the back of his neck. He'd worn his favorite leather coat, and had chosen to walk home in a fit of good spirits, not minding the chill, though he'd be considering Apparation at this point if he weren't only a block away. He pulled up short at the top of the stairs as he noticed an unexpected visitor on his landing.



The cat was curled up in a fuzzy knot in front of his door, with a definite air of ownership about it. Fred arched an eyebrow at the animal, which blinked at him, gave a prolonged stretch, and rolled to a sitting position. "Evening, puss," Fred greeted, stooping down to offer a hand for inspection. He was summarily sniffed, and the cat consented to having its ears and chin scratched. "Where'd you come from, ey?" The cat purred in answer, provoking a smile from Fred.

"Well, all right then. How about some supper? I imagine that's what you were after in the first place," he laughed, opening the flat's door, totally unsurprised as the cat immediately trotted inside and began to explore. Shrugging, he tossed his jacket across a kitchen chair and moved to the icebox, digging out the slab of bacon he'd been intending to turn into sandwiches, and went about creating dinner for himself and the cat.

"Bet you'll stick around a while once you figure out there's food in it for you, too," he muttered, tossing a bit of bacon in the cat's path. It seemed to agree, if the proprietary manner in which the bacon was collected and taken to Fred's kitchen chair to be eaten was any indication.


[Summary: Fred acquires a house guest.]