#ft-cardoc

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@dearborn-caradoc 

Oliver had been a gift from Frank’s parents first year when his homesickness just wouldn’t fade and he needed something to cling to. She was soothing, lazy at her best, and she tended to hog the beds in their dorm room indiscriminately. He loved that cat more than his spot on the Quidditch team, and that was saying a lot. 

He also had no idea where she’d wandered off to. 

He’d been systematically scouring the halls for the better part of an hour, calling her name and dodging reckless fourth years. Stupid cat. The one time she actually gets up and she decides to wander off to Merlin know where. A small frown pulling at the corners of his lips, Frank was seriously considering just giving up and waiting for Oliver to come back to him - no matter how anxious he knew that would make him. He had a class to get to in an hour and plants to tend to before then, cat hunting really wasn’t in the cards. 

Just as he was about to return to the Gryffindor common room, defeated and worried, he caught a glimpse of a familiar face. One that could definitely help him with his cat problem. Cardoc had his own cat, after all, he was bound to know something. Right? If nothing else, it’d be easier to search every inch of the castle with a bit of help. 

“Hey, Cardoc. I know you’re busy and that this is probably a trivial matter but I’m kind of panicking and I need your help.” The words came out in a rush, Frank’s face the picture of concern. Stupid cat.