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Wren mostly only went to Hogsmeade if he needed a plant or book he couldn’t easily grow or borrow. And occasionally to try some of the Hogsmeade cuisine. There was a place with the best beef steak he’d ever tried. Unfortunately he found out August and Sonora liked that place too, so it became a challenge to find weekends neither of them were going to Hogsmeade to go. Today happened to be one of those lucky days. Wren had finished a scrumptious meal, discussed the making of fine tiramisu with Moira and other tolerable company and still had about an hour to kill before he had to get back to hitting the books. Ancient Runes was useful-- Wren just wished he had taken it last year so he wouldn’t be playing catch up now.

Wren squinted at the sunlight outside and Dunce immediately wandered off. ”Oi, stupid cat, the road is that way. Ugh. Guys, one sec.”. Usually, Dunce would come when bid; but this time, she just mewed quietly. Wren rounded the corner and found his cat sitting next to a litter of tiny kittens rolling around in the sparse grass behind the building. Six kittens. No adult cats in sight though. Some of them were a familiar snowy white coat, others spotted with patches of black and orange-- Oh well, wasn’t his business. ”C’mon Dunce Dudder-head. They aren’t your kittens.”

Later, the group had just gotten out of the ice cream shop when Wren bumped into a familiar face. ”Nimbus,” he greeted curtly. Usually Wren would have left it at that -- just because the boys worked decently well together in class and weren’t insulting or threatening each other at every interaction anymore didn’t mean they didn’t have years of broken friendship and betrayal still dividing them. ”Say, Spazz hasn’t knocked up any more strays, has he? I thought you had him fixed?”

” ...why?”

Wren shrugged. ”I saw a few kittens that kinda looked like his first litter back home.” He shrugged again but Nim seemed to pale. Saddened? Disheartened? Whatever reaction Wren might have expected, this was not it. ”What?”

”Where was this?” Nim asked. Wren told him. ”I found this kid poking a dead cat and its kitten with a stick out by the park. I just buried them a little while ago, actually….”

Both boys quieted for a moment, understanding the implications. Then, simultaneously, they declared: ”Not my problem.” ”Hope someone helps them.” They gave each other a nod, then parted silently, going about the rest of their Hogsmeade visits.

This really wasn’t Wren’s problem. Yet half an hour after he’d run into Nimbus and discovered the fate of the apparent mama cat, Wren was back behind the tavern with a dish and some food. He glared when he saw another boy there with a picnic basket. ”Typical NimNim, ‘Hope someone helps them’ then goes off trying to be the hero and do everything himself,” Wren said, sarcastically mimicking Nim from earlier.

”Typical Wrenchester, says it’s not his problem but nosing in anyways,” Nim retorted without missing a beat, but shifted over to give the Slytherin some room. ”Careful. This one doesn’t look like it’s figured out walking.”

Wren knelt down, softened the dry food with warm water, then set the dish out, helping to lure the kittens into the basket. He held a bit of food out and gently lifted the kitten Nim said couldn’t walk. ”Leg’s probably broken,” he diagnosed, reaching for his wand to cast a proper diagnosis spell to check. It was a miracle the cat was alive having broken its leg so badly so young. Dunce licked the kitten gently, mewing mournfully. Wren was thinking through healing potions and spells, wondering what would be best for a tiny kitten bone. ”I think I can heal it. I’d want to do a more thorough examination though, in case that’s not the only thing that's injured.”

They smuggled the orphaned litter into the castle with the picnic basket, and both boys added a bunch of kibble to their other purchases. They gave the cats a bunch of mean names and argued about how to take care of them, but by the time the carriage got back, they’d agreed to get word out for any interested students: Kittens for good owners.