[ it really is a strangely home-y shop for an apothecary. not enough to turn away the most die-hard, but just enough to bring in the more mild-tempered ... and honestly, make it more comfortable to spend so many hours a day here. being in the shop with it all locked up still counts toward curfew so long as she doesn't open up for anyone, so some nights she doesn't head up to bed until far past when she should.

point is: the touch of lily is everywhere. sighing, she shakes her head. ] If they know anything, they're not sharing. The reports are from the families of the missing, but none of them have been found. And now with the displaced... Either it's the opposite happening or the two aren't connected but no one knows or everyone pretends not to know.

[ SUDDENLY, A BALL OF ORANGE FUR--or not so suddenly, as the large, squish-faced cat that harry will recognize (but looking much younger, practically a kitten) is lazily sauntering along--makes its way across the counter from apparently nowhere and nudges lily's arm insistently until she pets it.

rolling her eyes, lily grabs gently onto the cat's fur ruff and... ruffles it more, whereupon said cat begins to wash its face from the indignity of it all.

anyway many things about crookshanks potentially make sense now. ]

This would be my cat.