The owl flapped its wings on the windowsill, scattering rainwater with each beat. Garfield narrowed his eyes, staring curiously.
Please just be a prank owl. Please just be delivering some boring newsletter.
But no. The old man saw it.
Old James Carter, unaware that Garfield was crouched behind him in the corner, stepped over and unlatched the window.
"There you are, Al." He muttered.
The owl hopped in with a soft thump, feathers slick from the rain. Carter reached into a nearby tin and retrieved a strip of jerky.
"Hard work deserves a treat." He said, offering it up.
"Coo-coo." The owl responded, taking the jerky with a snap of its beak.
"Go rest in the barn. I'll call if I need you."
"Coo."
The owl gave one last glance toward Garfield, its amber eyes gleaming as if it knew something, and then it flapped off into the stormy night.
The window shut again with a click, and the room slowly warmed. Carter shook droplets from the envelope and grumbled.
"I'll never get used to this damned owl post. It's been decades, and I still prefer telegrams."
'Or a simple phone call."
James Carter Jr. chuckled behind him. "Every world has its quirks, Father."
"We don't like flying birds delivering mail, and they think telegrams are barbaric."
"When the son grows up and starts lecturing the father…"
"Oh, don't be like that. You're not that old. Now come on, see what they've written. Judging by the timing, something's off in their world, too."
Old Carter sighed, then carefully opened the envelope.
Garfield's ears twitched as a soft spark lit up from the letter, an enchantment.
A faint glow surged from the paper and briefly touched Carter's hand before vanishing.
"Magical anti-theft spell." Garfield muttered under his cat breath.
"Classic wizard security."
Pandora's voice chimed into his mind. "Oooh, definitely high-tier. Bet it stings like hell if you're not the intended reader."
Garfield stretched his neck to get a better look as Carter began to read.
His eyes scanned the elegant cursive quickly, the storm outside punctuating every dramatic pause with thunder.
My old friend, General James Carter
I apologize for intruding upon your conversation with your son, but the matter is urgent. A dangerous individual from our world has entered America.
He seeks a boy with immense magical potential and intends to manipulate him. If left unchecked, it could mean disaster for both our worlds.
I ask you to help my student enter America under the guise of an ordinary traveler. He has a mission, and it coincides with stopping the threat.
In return, you may call upon me for a favor, within reason and law.
Yours in trust,
Albus Dumbledore.
Garfield blinked.
Then blinked again.
"(⊙o⊙) …G…?! That's Albus Dumbledore's handwritten letter?!" He sat back, stunned.
"First, my little wife shows up on me, and now this? If Grindelwald shows up, I swear I'm out."
Garfield stared at the floor, tail twitching violently. His thoughts raced.
Student. Dangerous wizard. Letter from Albus Dumbledore.
That could only mean Newt Scamander. The magizoologist. The man who literally wrote Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them.
Garfield groaned dramatically. "This is not the magical kindergarten bus I signed up for. I want to go home."
A teasing voice echoed in his mind. "Little cat, you can't escape your destiny. Accept it… meow-hahahaha…"
"Get out of my head!" He growled, shaking himself. Then he drew in a deep breath, puffed out his chest, and declared to no one in particular.
"I am not any orange tabby. I am the ancient devourer of worlds! The feared Great Devourer! No mere wizard or prophecy can scare me!"
A beat of silence.
…But honestly, forget world domination. I only want to find a five-star buffet and a sunbeam to nap in.
He flopped down on the rug, tail curled around his paws.
And as for this whole Dumbledore letter nonsense… I didn't see anything.
Didn't hear anything. Definitely not hopping on a boat to go help Newt Scamander and fight dark wizards.
He glanced at the letter again. "…Unless they have roast duck."
Garfield raised a lazy paw, stretching as he prepared to slink away from the study. As he was about to round the corner, James Carter Jr. spoke up.
"Father." He said, thoughtfully tapping the letter on the desk.
"Given the current situation abroad… do you think it's time Peggy went to study in the United States?"
Garfield froze mid-step, ears twitching. Peggy? Going to America? This should be good…
Old James Carter didn't answer immediately.
He leaned back in his armchair, fingers drumming thoughtfully on his knees. James Jr. knew that rhythm well, it meant the old general was deep in thought.
Ten minutes passed in silence before the elder Carter shook his head firmly.
"No. Peggy's still too young. She needs a proper British education before being exposed to… that mess."
"You're right, Father. Wise as always."
"The U.S. is no place for the flower of the Carter family right now." Old James continued.
"That society is chaotic, brash. Let her grow her roots here, in good English soil, before she's blown into foreign winds."
Garfield, still crouched near the doorway, couldn't help the wicked grin that spread across his furry face.
Pfft… flower of the Carter family?
That 'flower' will one day punch Nazis in the face, found S.H.I.E.L.D., and inspire generations of badasses in catsuits.
You think America will corrupt her? Nah, Peggy Carter becomes the storm. You're trying to protect a tiger cub from the jungle she was born to rule.
Garfield gave a satisfied nod, proud to know the future.
And as the king of this manor…. unofficially, of course, he took great pride in knowing how to make the best use of everything and everyone.
Speaking of which, he thought smugly, I am the ultimate recycler. Anything I eat gets digested.
Everything. Waste not, want not, baby.
"You mean your stomach is a walking landfill." Pandora's voice snorted in his mind. "You could start a garbage empire."
"Just eat your way to being the richest man alive."
Garfield replied solemnly. "If I eat garbage, you taste it too. Keep mocking me, and I'll eat my own poop."
"…!"
"…"
A moment of silence.
'Hahahahaha…' Then both burst into mental laughter.
Chuckling to himself, Garfield slipped out of the study. Whatever else the two Carters were planning, it didn't concern him, at least not until food or chaos was involved.
He strutted across the grand halls of the Carter estate, the animals of the manor respectfully parting before him like peasants before a monarch.
Garfield raised his chin, walking with the pomp of a self-declared emperor.
They know who rules here.
Eventually, he returned to his favorite spot, Peggy's room where the bed was soft, the air smelled like cinnamon, and the sunlight always hit just right.
With a contented sigh, Garfield jumped up, spun once, and curled into a purring orange donut. Within seconds, he was out cold.
Huu huu huu…
His deep, even breathing drifted out from under the blankets.
The maids, passing by in the hallway, heard the familiar sound. Smiling to themselves, they didn't bother opening the door.
They knew exactly who was snoring inside their young mistress's bed.
…
Meanwhile, back in the study, Old James was busy scribbling a letter with steady hands and a weathered brow.
He paused only once, remembering something odd.
Carl, his loyal hunting hound, had bowed his head to the orange cat earlier that week.
He shook his head and resumed writing.
Dear friend Albus Dumbledore,
I received your letter. The matter is now in my son's hands, and you shall have a formal reply within the week.
On a separate note, I seem to have taken in a rather unusual cat. Large appetite. Charms my hound into obedience.
Has a strange air about him. If you have time, perhaps you could take a look. I hope it's not one of yours or worse, something from your magical menagerie.
Yours in caution,
James Carter
He folded the letter, sealed it with wax, and gave a low whistle. The owl returned moments later, wings still damp.
"Off you go, Al. Deliver this to the Hog's Mead. You know the way."
With a flap and a hoot, the owl vanished into the night sky once more.
And in the quiet of Peggy's bedroom, the king of cats snored on, blissfully unaware that his existence had just been reported to the magical world.
꧁𓊈𒆜༺⚜༻𒆜𓊉꧂
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