Garfield and the model dragon both looked up.
Their eyes were filled with displeasure.
Opening the window for this round faced, chubby Scottish chicken would definitely let in the cold wind.
The temperature inside, which the cat and dragon had finally gotten used to, absolutely could not be allowed to drop.
The cat and dragon's gazes at the round faced, chubby Scottish chicken carried a hint of murderous intent.
The round faced, chubby Scottish chicken of the wizarding world possessed special intelligence.
It sensed the unfriendly expressions of the orange cat and the model dragon.
Considering its own life versus the letter, it decided to choose the former.
It tossed the letter onto the windowsill.
Being a responsible messenger, the round faced, chubby Scottish chicken knocked on the window to signal the orange cat inside that it had delivered the letter.
Then, not wanting to stay a moment longer, it flapped its wings and flew away without looking back.
The letter swayed wildly in the cold wind on the windowsill, seemingly on the verge of being blown away.
The model dragon silently closed its eyes.
After all, the letter was not for it.
The letter could not be allowed to fly away.
In the instant a strong gust of wind blew in, Garfield raised his paw, opened a small portal, and pulled the letter in.
The portal opened and closed in less than a second.
This precise control satisfied Garfield.
The figurine dragon, on the other hand, impatiently breathed out a small flame and then closed its eyes again to enjoy the warmth.
The letter was made of paper commonly used in the wizarding world.
It had been magically treated, leaving no traces or symbols.
As a Flerken with an extraordinary sense of smell, Garfield detected a faint scent of various liquors and Aberforth's magical fluctuations.
What did Aberforth want with him?
Since Garfield introduced him to the Hurricane Tribe, Aberforth's Hog's Head Pub had been thriving with its exclusive business of high quality herbs.
He was making a considerable amount of money.
The increased popularity of the Hog's Head Pub, with its chaotic atmosphere, attracted more people to Hogsmeade.
This in turn boosted other industries in the village.
Everyone was making more money, and their lives were naturally getting better and better.
Next year, everyone would know why this effect occurred.
After everyone became wealthy, the village spontaneously organized a new group of wizard guards to assist with village security.
Hogsmeade was close to Hogwarts, and its residents were all pure wizards.
Do not be fooled by the fact that some were pub owners or farmers.
Most were graduates of Hogwarts and knew everything.
Organizing another wizard guard team to maintain village security was a piece of cake.
The team members were quickly selected.
As a member of Hogsmeade and the ultimate source of the influx of people, Aberforth did not hesitate to contribute some of his recent earnings.
✦••┈┈••✦••┈┈••✦
Garfield tore open the letter.
It read, "Your Majesty, the Great King Pendragon, I recently heard some special stories while trading with many centaur tribes in the Forbidden Forest. If you are interested, I would like to come and tell them to you sometime."
Garfield rubbed his chin.
He then decided against having Aberforth come to him.
He would rather go check on Aberforth and experience the lively atmosphere of the Hog's Head himself.
Normally, he would just reply to the messenger, the round faced Scottish chicken.
But he was too lazy, and the chicken had already flown away.
He would have to find another way.
The owlery was full of these chickens, littered with leftover mouse scraps.
As a clean cat, Garfield did not want to go there.
After some thought, Garfield decided to leave the whole matter to Aberforth through Dumbledore.
He and Aberforth might not seem like friends, but they had always kept in touch.
Even when Voldemort was at his peak, Aberforth had been quietly cleaning up his brother's messes after Albus's death.
What a great brother.
It was worth the effort of helping him out.
Garfield wondered if Aberforth had kept in touch with the old goat these past few months.
Time passed quickly.
When Garfield closed his eyes and opened them again, it was already dinnertime after dark.
He opened a portal and appeared in a warm spot near the Great Hall.
Then he flew inside as usual.
✦••┈┈••✦••┈┈••✦
Months of interaction had made the Hogwarts students accustomed to the ever flowing orange cat, Garfield.
They were used to the wise king who would spontaneously deliver lectures without regard for textbooks.
They were also used to Garfield's occasional lazy absences.
Sometimes he did not eat breakfast, lunch, or dinner in the Great Hall.
There was also a lack of activity on campus after the weather turned cold.
Even the Slytherin students living in the dark basements had many cat lovers among the four houses.
They were quite indifferent to the orange cat's reluctance to come out in the cold.
Except for one person.
Our little Voldemort.
After months of learning and cultivating his persona, little Voldemort had successfully sold his image.
He had incidentally gained some friends and knowledge.
The more the young enchanter learned and the deeper his understanding of the wizarding world became, the clearer one thing became.
Garfield, the magical orange cat king, Pendragon, was truly powerful.
Some of the spells Garfield had cast were even admitted by Dumbledore and Headmaster Dippet that they could not perform.
Now, he was even more regretful for missing Garfield's second chance to recruit him.
Therefore, our young Voldemort set himself a strict task.
He would find out Garfield's address, visit him, and wait for him in the dining room every day to find a suitable opportunity to speak with him alone.
He hoped to rekindle Garfield's appreciation for him and thus be recruited again.
If he could learn those magical spells from that magical orange cat, he was certain that in the future he could surpass him, even crush him.
If conditions allowed, he might even inherit his kingdom and become an even greater being.
✦••┈┈••✦••┈┈••✦
Just as Garfield sat down, the old bee arrived.
Garfield handed the bee his reply and told him, "This is for your brother."
Knowing that his brother and Garfield had dealings, Dumbledore did not ask any further questions.
He simply put the letter in his pocket.
Garfield sensed a faint malice that vanished in an instant.
He looked up and scanned the area to confirm the source of the malice.
Do not underestimate Tom Riddle's fleeting thought.
For a beast like demigod with special talents like Garfield, he could instantly sense who it was.
Little Voldemort.
Hehehe.
Prepare to receive my special instruction.
Hmph.