Chapter Thirty-Seven: The Fallen Professor

After learning that the kitten only ate cooked food, Professor Kettleburn stared speechlessly at Siwen and asked, “So what do you usually feed her?”

Siwen thought for a moment, counting on his fingers as he replied, “Usually it’s poached chicken, steamed fish with the bones removed, boiled chicken liver, and sometimes a bowl of goat’s milk. Oh, and I secretly ordered some specialty cat food from Spratt’s in the Muggle world, but the kitten doesn’t really like it.”

The more Professor Kettleburn listened to the kitten’s menu, the darker his expression became. At last, he couldn’t hold back and said, “Are you trying to turn your cat into a useless layabout? Don’t you realize she’s a magical creature with powers?”

“A pet cat doesn’t need to be powerful, as long as she’s cute,” Siwen replied indifferently. “She’s got me to look after her, anyway.”

The professor, exasperated, said, “You’re letting her waste her magical abilities! You’re wasting her gifts! And what if she gets lost one day? How will a pampered cat survive in the wild? Or if something happens to you, or you go away for a while…”

Professor Kettleburn nagged Siwen for a good half hour, and finally, seeming a bit parched, he stopped, propped up a large cauldron made from fire crab shell with his remaining right hand, and took a big swig.

“In short, you mustn’t squander your kitten’s talents!” he added, setting down the cauldron.

Siwen was dazed by the lecture and nodded blankly.

“So, now we’ll begin training her hunting skills,” said Professor Kettleburn, picking up his battered notebook and drawing out his wand to let it float in midair, then taking up a quill to continue making notes.

“Eh? Where’s the mouse?” He was just about to watch how the kitten would deal with the mouse when he suddenly noticed it was gone.

“If you mean the mouse from earlier, it’s crawled under your bed,” Siwen said quietly.

“No worries.” With a wave of his hand, Professor Kettleburn set down his quill, switched to his wand, and with a Summoning Charm, brought the mouse flying back.

Watching the professor switch items back and forth with one hand, Siwen couldn’t help but feel awkward for him, so he asked, “Professor, isn’t it inconvenient to only use one hand? I remember there are many ways in the wizarding world to regrow limbs, with minimal side effects.”

“What do you know? These lost limbs are badges of honor and distinction!” the professor declared proudly. “See this half-missing right leg? Lost it while subduing a Welsh Green dragon in my youth—a bite, but I managed to tame the beast soon after. As for the left arm, that was in Greece, bitten off by a Chimera—ferocious thing! But luckily I stuffed some soporific powder in its mouth and knocked it out in the end…”

Siwen looked at Professor Kettleburn’s excited, proud face, feeling utterly perplexed. He could never risk his life just for the sake of research.

Perhaps this is what passion looks like, he thought.

“Almost lost the thread,” the professor said suddenly, snapping out of his reverie. He tossed the mouse in front of the kitten. “Go on, little one, catch that mouse!”

The professor’s seamless shift in focus left Siwen momentarily at a loss. He didn’t dare object further, only watched the kitten, hoping she wouldn’t be coaxed into eating raw food—how unsanitary that would be.

Meanwhile, as the two conversed, the kitten lay sprawled on the table, lazily flicking her tail, making sharp taps against the tabletop, looking thoroughly bored.

When Professor Kettleburn tossed the mouse before her, she jumped in surprise, sprang up from the table, then crept over warily for a closer look.

Under the professor’s expectant gaze and Siwen’s tense watchfulness, she wrinkled her nose in distaste and batted the mouse off the table with a paw.

Professor: “…”

Siwen: “…”

With the mouse swept away, the kitten looked blissfully at ease again, lounging on the table and gazing idly out the window.

“This doesn’t make sense, not even a standoff, or a fearful retreat? It’s not logical…” Professor Kettleburn muttered, frowning and falling deep in thought.

“Professor, she seems to dislike the mouse,” Siwen offered.

“No, I think we need to try again!” Professor Kettleburn didn’t seem to hear him. He promptly picked up the now-dazed mouse and tossed it in front of the kitten once more.

The kitten had had enough. Seeing the little creature she’d just sent flying come back again, she felt sorely provoked. She bared her teeth, glared at the professor with her yellow eyes.

The professor, meeting her gaze, felt a strange sensation, as if those eyes were drawing his mind in, captivating his entire attention.

With a “clack” and a “thud,” the quill and notebook fell from the professor’s hands and dropped to the floor.

Then came a resounding “thump” as Professor Kettleburn collapsed face-first onto the table.

…

Siwen froze for a moment, then quickly drew his wand, scanning every corner of the room and the shadows outside the window.

“Who did this?!” he shouted. “Attacking a Hogwarts professor is a serious crime! Come out and turn yourself in—you might get a lighter sentence!”

No reply.

A drop of cold sweat trickled down Siwen’s temple. With his own mental powers, he sensed no suspicious presence—if anything, that only proved how formidable the attacker must be!

“Kitten, quick, hide!” Even in a crisis, Siwen’s first thought was for his pet, afraid she’d come to harm.

The kitten sat atop the table, tilting her little head at him.

“…Don’t tell me it was you?” Siwen eyed her suspiciously.

The kitten looked at him with perfect innocence.

“So you were the culprit who made me skip class all afternoon the other day?” Siwen exclaimed as realization dawned. “I knew it—the yellow eyes in the cat carrier could only have been you!”

The kitten still gazed at him innocently.

Siwen: “…”

Knowing the kitten couldn’t speak, Siwen covered his face in frustration and sighed, “What did I do to deserve this…”

He rolled up his sleeves, lifted Professor Kettleburn, and laid him out on the messy bed, then picked up the quill and notebook from the floor and set them back on the table.

After a moment’s thought, Siwen unfolded what looked like a rag by the professor’s bedside and covered him with it.

“Fits just right—seems it really is the professor’s blanket,” he muttered to himself.

Having ensured all was well, he picked up the expressionless culprit from the table, left Professor Kettleburn’s hut, and closed the door behind him.

“Oh well, it’s almost bedtime anyway. Let the professor have an early night.”

With a sigh, Siwen hugged the kitten and started down the path back to his dormitory.

…

…