The Magical Menagerie on Diagon Alley wasn't very large, mainly because there was also a dedicated owl shop here—Harry's owl Hedwig was bought here by Hagrid as a birthday gift, and Harry had found the name in A History of Magic.
But though small, it had everything.
The walls of the Magical Menagerie were densely packed with cages. Two enormous purple toads sat there, gorging themselves on dead blowflies; a massive turtle's shell gleamed; a fat white rabbit kept transforming between a silk top hat and back to a rabbit...
In short, everything looked novel and interesting.
The only problem was the air was filled with the stench of urine and feces.
It inevitably reminded Harry of the zoo he had visited not long ago.
Every time he approached the animals, he would smell a similar odor.
There was only one witch in the shop, currently attending to other customers.
Seeing Sherlock's group of four enter, she politely asked them to wait a moment.
Since they weren't in a hurry, they stood aside, curiously examining the environment.
After that customer left, the witch immediately turned to them with a smile. "Dear ones, what help do you need?"
"My rat has been yawning, having a runny nose, feeling unwell all over, lacking energy, and its color seems off since returning from Egypt," Ron explained.
"Please put it on the counter so I can take a look."
Ron nodded and took Scabbers out of his pocket, placing it on the counter.
On the counter was a large cage containing a group of black rats that had been playing a jumping game with their bare long tails.
Seeing Scabbers placed on the counter, they stopped playing and all crowded to the wire cage edge, curiously examining this member of their species.
The witch first took out thick black glasses from her pocket and put them on, but this still seemed insufficient for clear vision, so she simply grabbed Scabbers and held it close to her face.
"Hmm... how old is this little fellow?"
"I don't know," Ron said somewhat embarrassedly, "but it should be quite old. It used to be my brother's."
The witch looked at Ron with some surprise, seemingly incredulous that he had been keeping such an old rat. "So... what abilities does it have?"
Hearing the witch's question, Ron became even more embarrassed.
Because apart from occasionally soiling the bed sheets, Scabbers seemed to have no skills worthy of being called "abilities."
Seeing Ron's expression, the witch roughly understood and clicked her tongue before returning her attention to Scabbers.
"This little fellow has certainly suffered."
"It was already like this when Percy gave it to me," Ron said somewhat aggrievedly.
He understood what the witch meant—Scabbers had damage to its left ear and was missing a toe on its front paw.
When Percy had given it to him, he had been quite disgusted.
"An ordinary rat like this can live at most three years," the witch said, putting Scabbers down and spreading her hands. "Obviously, it won't live much longer."
"What?!"
Ron showed a shocked expression.
Although he had always complained about this second-hand rat Percy had given him, after three years together, human and rat had developed deep affection.
So, when he heard that Scabbers' time was limited, tears almost came immediately.
Noticing Ron's expression, the witch thoughtfully offered a suggestion.
"If you want something that will live longer, you can pick one from here."
She pointed to the iron cage as she spoke.
Having seen countless partings between owners and pets, the witch felt no emotional response and even wanted to laugh, though she desperately held it in.
The black rats seemed to understand the witch's words and immediately became active.
Compared to Scabbers with its appearance of abuse, these rats with glossy coats and high spirits looked much better.
However, Ron wrinkled his nose in displeasure. "Show-offs."
"If you don't want to exchange it, why not try this, Rat Tonic?"
Seeing that Ron didn't intend to give up on Scabbers, the witch bent down and pulled out a small red bottle from under the counter.
She still needed to make a sale.
Ron nodded. Even knowing Scabbers was nearing its end, he still wasn't willing to give up treatment.
"How much—Ouch!"
Before Ron could finish speaking, a large ginger creature suddenly leaped from the top of the highest cage, landing directly on Ron's head.
Due to its large weight, it nearly knocked him flat.
Not only that, but it stood upright and bared its teeth menacingly at Scabbers.
This scene reminded Harry of the black snake Malfoy had summoned at the Dueling Club last year.
It had the same posture then, as if ready to attack at any moment.
"No, Crookshanks, no!"
The witch shouted, but it was already too late.
Scabbers, which had been in her hands, suddenly became like slippery soap, darting out of her grasp and landing on the floor on its back.
It flipped over, stood upright, then leaped up and bolted out the door.
"Scabbers!"
Ron yelled and chased after it out of the shop.
Harry hesitated slightly, looked at Sherlock, and seeing him nod, also chased after them.
Seeing that Sherlock hadn't followed Harry and Ron, Hermione felt sweet inside, like she had eaten honey.
Now she could see clearly that this large ginger creature was actually a big cat. Her heart moved, and she pointed at it asking.
"This cat is called Crookshanks?"
"It's been here for quite a while," the witch nodded, petting the big cat, then asked. "What do you need? Do you also want to look at pets like your friends?"
"No, I want to buy an owl..."
"Simple! Do you have any special requirements? Larger or smaller? Solid colors or mixed colors?"
Seemingly afraid of losing this sale, the witch said eagerly, "Don't worry, whatever the Eeylops Owl Emporium has, I have here too."
Hermione hesitated for a moment, then suddenly asked, "You just said this cat has been here for quite a while?"
Hearing Hermione ask this question, Sherlock looked at her with some surprise, then began mourning for Ron in his mind.
"Yes, poor Crookshanks, no one wants to take it."
"Alright, I'll take it then!"
"What?" The witch was somewhat surprised. "You don't want the owl anymore?"
"I think Crookshanks is quite nice."
"No problem!"
Being able to sell a slow-moving pet was undoubtedly a happy thing for the witch.
She efficiently calculated the price and handed Crookshanks over to Hermione.
She even threw in two packets of cat food and gave away the Rat Tonic that Ron had left behind for free.
Sherlock casually took the small red bottle and asked, "Was Crookshanks like this before? Getting excited whenever it sees rats?"
Hermione, who had just gotten her new pet and was quite happy, laughed at Sherlock's words. "Oh, Sherlock, cats catching mice is instinct."
"If I'm not mistaken, this should be a long-haired cat. Usually, this breed is quite docile," Sherlock explained, looking at Crookshanks.
It was now contentedly nestled in Hermione's arms, obviously very satisfied with its new owner's warm embrace.
"Also, when it saw that cage full of rats, it wasn't nearly as excited as when it saw Scabbers."
"That's because they're already familiar with each other, right?"
"This young lady is correct—Crookshanks is indeed already familiar with these little fellows.
Of course, this gentleman is also right. Long-haired cats are very docile, but Crookshanks has half Kneazle blood."
"Kneazle?"
Both Sherlock and Hermione paused, looking again at Crookshanks in Hermione's arms.
It was quite large, with fluffy soft ginger fur and a bottle-brush-like fluffy tail. Its bow legs showed obvious pigeon-toed stance.
Most eye-catching was its strange squashed face, as if it had once run head-first into a brick wall.
A pair of yellow eyes were curiously looking left and right, giving the whole cat a somewhat gloomy feeling.
"I really couldn't tell," Sherlock said quietly.
He said this because Kneazles were also a type of magical creature, classified as XXX level by the British Ministry of Magic.
In appearance alone, purebred Kneazles looked more like small cats with large ears and lion-like tails.
For this reason, both Sherlock and Hermione had difficulty connecting it with Crookshanks.
However, if it had Kneazle blood, that would explain the reaction from earlier.
"Let's go," Sherlock said, picking up the red bottle containing the Rat Tonic. Hermione picked up Crookshanks, and just as they were about to leave, Sherlock suddenly asked another question.
"You said earlier that rats like my friend's can only live about three years, right?"
"That's the case in most situations. Maybe some individual ones live particularly long, but I've never seen any."
The witch shrugged.
Sherlock showed a thoughtful expression, thanked the witch, and left.
"Sherlock, don't overthink it. Scabbers lasting this long is already quite good."
"You're right—lasting this long is already quite good."
Just as they walked out of the shop, they saw Harry and Ron walking over from the crowded street.
"You bought this monster?" Ron's mouth gaped wide when he saw Crookshanks in Hermione's arms.
"Don't you think it's beautiful?" Hermione's face glowed with happiness.
Crookshanks had completely settled into Hermione's embrace and was contentedly purring.
Harry and Ron exchanged glances, both understanding their friend's expression.
Obviously, neither thought this cat was particularly beautiful.
Harry was more tolerant, but Ron was somewhat agitated. "Hermione, that thing nearly scalped me!"
"It didn't mean to!" Hermione was in a good mood now, petting her cat while asking, "Right, Crookshanks?"
"But what about Scabbers?"
Ron excitedly pointed to the small bulge in his chest pocket. "It needs rest, it needs to relax! How can it possibly relax with that thing around?"
"You can't prevent others from buying pets just because your pet needs rest—catch!"
Sherlock said this while tossing the red bottle toward Ron.
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