Hermione scratched Sphinx’s ear as she purred around her legs. Pansy’s cat reminded her painfully of Crookshanks. Not in looks. Pansy’s feline was the picture of sophistication. Her long neck, flawless markings, and elegant poise were textbook signs of good breeding. Crookshanks had been half Kneazle and as matted as he was feral. But their singular tastes are what stood out to her. Crooks tolerated no one. Sphinx was the same. However, both felines did warm up to her quite well. Perhaps one day, she’d own another cat. Maybe when she was settled. Or safe. If she was safe.