wizards, magic and familiars

Yeah but hear me out – Urban wizards AU

 

Anjo hastily made his way into the dark alley. His black hair was already soaked and droplets of water ran down his temple. The smell of trash was even worse with the humidity in the air and he scrunched up his nose as he made his way past the trash cans. Kater, who’d just stuck his fury head out of Anjos bag, made a noise that sounded pretty disgusted for a simple mreow and blinked with his yellow shining eyes accusingly up at his servant. Because cats didn’t have owners. They had slaves. Well, usually anyway. But Anjo was an okay kid, so Kater had ‘upgraded’ him to servant.

Said servant glanced down at him and rolled his eyes. “Yes, I know. It stinks that you have to come along,” he stopped in his tracks, “Quite literally, hah” While he was busy snorting at his own joke, Kater was not as amused. He was, in fact, even more displeased. And he let the young wizard know that.

 

In his own ways.

 

“Hey! Stop that. No. Nononono. No. Kater, you’ll keEP THAT FUR BALL IN YOU-” Anjo screeched as his cat began to activate its gag reflex. Kater did not keep the fur ball inside. But Anjo hauled him out of his bag just in time. “For the record: I am as disgusted by this as you are by my jokes, so…well played, Kater, well played. But seriously. If I could rely on you to follow the rules while I’m gone I wouldn’t have to drag you with me. But I can’t, because you always do…” he paused, “well actually I don’t know what you do,” Anjo frowned at his cat, who just send him a look that clearly said you don’t really want to know, and he couldn’t disagree.

“But whatever it is, it makes too much noise. You know there is a ‘no pets’ regulation at our apartment complex and the landlord already has his suspicions. And since your Highness doesn’t want to be transfigured so it’s the only solution.”

 

Kater huffed and flicked his ears as an especially big drop of rain plopped onto his head.

With another grumpy mreow he hid in Anjos bag aka his save haven where it was warm and definitely not raining.

“Well, aren’t you glad that this water-resistant spell I found yesterday works?” The young wizard asked rhetorically. More unfriendly mreows and low growls came from the depth of his bag. If Anjo didn’t know better he would’ve thought his cat had just threw a string of cusses at him.

 

Scratch that. He knew better.

 

“And aren’t I glad that the translating spell from last week only works with human languages,” he mumbled to himself. With one last look over his shoulder, to make sure no one had followed him and that there were no curious onlookers, he pulled the pencil from behind his ear. Which then, with a few murmured words, turned into a wand. After that he fiddled with the silver charms that clung to the bracelet on his left wrist.

A stack of books (advanced potions, transformation for beginners, Spells Volume 3), a feather quill (kinda old-fashioned but the magical society seemed to like the vintage vibe), a clover leaf (a literal good-luck-charm his grandmother gave him for save traveling) and finally the charm he was looking for. A small broom.

 

One touch with his wand and the small charm began to grow, the silver fading, wood forming under his fingertips instead, until Anjo held a normal sized broom in his hand (one would think wizards and witches had some more…advanced flying technology, like the flying car from HP 2, but they’d be wrong. Vintage vibe and all that.) He got on it and recited the flying spell, which he, by now, could do in his sleep. Then a tell-tale wind gusted trough his hair all the way down to his feet, where it swirled around and around until Anjo could feel himself getting lighter and lighter. This was his favourite part. The anticipation. The little voice in his brain that always told him that there was no way that he was gonna fly. Not with a broom or any other way. And then it would always have to shut its trap the moment Anjo took a deep breath, pushed himself off the ground and was, in fact, flying on a broom.

 

 

He flew out of the alley, up, up along the grey walls of the buildings around him. Higher and higher until the once tall city was only a little replication, the honking cars tiny ants, the busy people not even a speck of dust. The adrenalin in his veins pushed him further, pushed him to leave the rain behind and break through the clouds, where he was alone with a bright moon and dozens and millions of stars (and a plane or two but he tried to avoid them in general after…well).

This was probably his second favourite part. The part where he could finally breath. The part where the cold air cleared his mind off all that was waiting for him, down there, where his life was busy, stressful and where he felt like he didn’t belong. But up here he was free.

 

Up here he was Magic.

 

A year before he hadn’t even known about the existence of magic, much less that he himself was a wizard. Who was able to use said magic. He could still remember how his Grandmother had dropped the bomb. He had opened the door one day, cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth, to reveal his Grandmother Juliette standing in the doorway. She had showed up out of the blue, looked him up and down and said “You’re a wizard, Anjo” and the continued “Also, please stop smoking. It’s not healthy”, like she hadn’t just pulled The Hagrid Move on him. He promptly had a coughing fit and almost choked on his cigarette. Juliette had just raised an eyebrow as if to say See? I told you so.

 

The following events had looked somewhat like this: He had, naturally, not believed his Grandmother. Who in their right mind would? Magic only existed in someone’s fantasy. In fairy tales and movies but certainly not in reality.

But then Juliette had cast a spell to make objects move on their own, so she could make herself a coffee, since her grandson apparently still lacked manners, don’t you know to offer guests something to drink which had Anjo staring dumbly and stuttering nonsense.

 

Then his knees had buckled but he was luckily saved from falling by a chair, which had magically moved from its spot 6 feet away to catch him and- holy shit there where moving chairs and cups and sugar cubes and the fridge had opened to let the milk out since Juliette took a lot of it in her coffee and all that happened because magic and- holy fucking shit magic existed and his grandmother was Magic and now she asked him if he also wanted milk in his coffee and he just nodded because he couldn’t remember that he drank his coffee black, no sugar, beCAUSE HELLO? MAGIC WAS REAL!

 

His Grandmother had then proceeded to tell him about magic, how it came to be and the history of magical society and whatnot, but he hadn’t really listened. He had tried, really, he had but all he could hear in his head was a little voice that got louder with time until it screamed: Hoy shit magic is real. Holy shit magic is real. HOLY-

 

Sometime later Juliette had finally finished and had been looking at him expectantly. He had blinked out of his stupor. “So…” he had begun but not really known how to end. Or where to actually begin, for that matter. A few minutes passed. Anjo had taken a calming breath.

It hadn’t helped.

He had started again anyway.

 

“You…are a witch,” he said. He’d wanted for it to come out as a question but it somehow ended up as a statement.

“Yes” Juliette nodded.

“And I am too?” Now it was a question. Good job, Anjo, you’re getting there.

“Well, technically you’re a wizard. It’s an old gender role thing as I explained. But ultimately yes, you are Magic.”

 

 

Anjo had let the information sink in.

 

He was a witch. Or wizard.

 

Not that he really cared because gender roles sucked (magical or not) and he was fucking Magic apparently so he had other problems right now. For example, why no one had told him.

He would soon turn 21, for fucks sake.

He was an adult.

He had his own apartment (a fucking tiny one but his own home nonetheless)

He had a stable job (okay so maybe he had two part-time jobs but he had them since he left school so they were pretty stable in his opinion and two part-time jobs made one full time job anyway so…)

He had a normal (sometimes shitty) life and now Juliette showed up to tell him that all of that had been a lie?

 

But of course, she had an explanation for that.

She always had an explanation for everything.

Anjos Mother liked to call it The Juliette-Effect.

 

All people of the magical society had begun to hide since the dark ages. Magic had always been a bit dangerous for its user. In ancient civilizations using magic had not only been frowned upon but was also a crime who could get you into prison. But from there thing only got worse.

In medieval times the human race was highly afraid of basically everything. The dark, woods, big scary animals…dark woods with big scary animals in them. Practically everything that they didn’t know well or couldn’t predict. Too bad being Magic also fell under that pattern. People in dark woods who did unknown and unpredictable things?

Add these things together and boom: The witch hunting era is now a thing, people. Great job, everyone!

 

Fortunately, humans pretty much sucked at recognizing real magic and when they occasionally caught a witch or wizard (you know what they say: even a broken clock is right twice a day), it was a piece of cake to escape through one of many spells. Some members of the magical society even made a game out of it. Getting caught on purpose to see how man times they could escape. But after one or two centuries things got boring. Especially Europe seemed to be a place full of non-magic party poopers and so most Magic people emigrated. Too bad humans had the same idea. And with the colonists came the Salem Witch Trials…but that’s another story.

 

So, when running away didn’t help, hiding hopefully would.

 

And it did. Or more like blending in.

Magic was still secretly practiced, children taught by their parents or the next of kin, depending how many and what family members knew about the heritage.

Which was why Anjo was currently flying across the country like every weekend, away from his busy city life to the quiet town by the sea where his grandmother Juliette would teach him the art of spells (among other things).

His mother didn’t know. Of course, she didn’t. Anjos Father had never told her. Mixed families were not unheard of but very rare. Though most of the time the Magic person chose to keep it a secret and left everything behind. So, who knew how many people actually were a witch or wizard and just didn’t know about it. Maybe they felt kinda like Anjo, like they were different but couldn’t quite place it. Juliette had explained it like this: Magic wasn’t something you had or could obtain. It was what you were. Like humans were made of flesh witches and wizards were made of Magic. Not that they weren’t made of flesh, of course they were, but also Magic and not flesh, she had explained further, which had very much confused Anjo but he also thought that he understood what she meant.

Somehow. Kind of.

All in all, everything had been pretty much confusing in the beginning.

With his Grandmother suddenly appearing, who he only knew from photos, Christmas and birthday cards and later the occasional video chat (He should have known something was up with his Granny, if she was able to use technology correctly)

With her wanting to teach him the ancient arts of magic. Like his father would have wanted.

His father, who had given up all that was magic to be with the love of his life, who was not Magic, but secretly still wished for nothing more than to show the wonders of his world to his own son.

His father, who had died when Anjo was eight, saving him from getting run over by a drunk driver.

 

And while magic was powerful and full of wonders, it could not bring back the dead. No matter how much we sometimes wished it would.

 

That was the first thing Anjo learned about magic.

The second being, that magic could manipulate but never create feelings, not real ones at least.

The third thing were familiars. Magic Animals with which a witch or wizard would form a bond.

(“So, like a magical pet?” Anjo had asked. Juliette had blinked at him and sighted but accepted her overwhelmed Grandsons simple understanding of familiars. For now.)

 

His grandmother had told him that his familiar would find him. Anjo had been super excited but for three weeks nothing had happened. Then, one night when he was about to take his cigarette break in the back alley of the 24h Diner he worked the night shifts at, there was a little black cat sitting right in front of the employee exit. He had stared at it, lighter in his hand and cigarette between his lips, ready to take a well-earned break, away from the group of teenage girls who had just come back from some kind of boyband concert, if their exited squealing was anything to go by.

The cat had sat there unmoving, staring right back at him only blinking its big yellow eyes once or twice. There was something in its gaze, something that told Anjo that this was his familiar.

It had to be.

 

So he turned around, went into the kitchen and snitched some ham from the fridge. Better get a good start if this was to be his lifelong partner.

When he came back, the cat was still there. As Anjo crouched down it didn’t move but narrowed its eyes, gauging him. He cooed at it, offering the ham. “It’s alright. I’m not gonna hurt you. Here.

Do You want some ham? It’s really good ham. Well, I guess, I haven’t tried it. I’m a Vegetarian, you know. But I bet it’s some really good ham. They sell that stuff on sandwiches for 10 dollars each, so it better be.” Anjo murmured. The kitten seemed to somehow snort at his comment in amusement, looked him up and down one more time, before it deemed him and his ham save enough and got up. Anjo smiled. “Yeah. That’s good. Come here, little one. Yeah, just like- OUCH!”

When the young wizard had wanted to pet the cats head it hissed and scratched him out of the blue. The ham, which he had dropped, was snatched up and then the cat ran away, out of the back alley onto the busy main street. Anjo was frozen in his disbelieve.

 

A week later the cat was back again. It had been a pretty shitty day and the customers where as irritated as Anjo was feeling, the only difference being, that they didn’t have to hide it behind a smile and be friendly anyway. It was absolutely exhausting and only thinking about how he had to work morning shift at the bookstore tomorrow had Anjo groaning in misery. His Co-worker had suddenly fallen ill and so Old Jeff, owner of the bookstore, had asked Anjo to cover the shift. And because Anjo needed the money he had agreed.

 

Oh how he already regretted his decision. Which was why he was taking his third cigarette break. And he still had four hours to go. So when he opened the door to the back alley, fiddling with his lighter to finally get his lungs full of toxic but soothing smoke, only to find the black cat, he snapped. “Oh no. Not you again,” he accused it, gesturing wildly with his arms, “Get lost, you filthy, wicked thief! Those scratched still burn like hell, you nasty! Go. Scram. Shoo, shoo!”

But the cat didn’t move.

 

Anjo slowly lowered his arms, thinking he must’ve looked like an idiot. He sighted, squatted down and buried his face in his hands, before taking a long drag of his cigarette. Then he glanced at the cat. It still sat right there and stared at him.

“What do you want?” Anjo asked resigned. He was so not in the mood for this.

“More 10 dollar ham? Sorry, we’re out. Delivery made some mistake and now all we got is avocado toast but there ain’t enough hipsters around to eat all of them.”

The kitten wrinkled its nose at him.

He huffed. “What? Just because I’m wearing ripped skinny jeans and flannel doesn’t mean I’m a fucking hipster.”

The cat crooked its head. Anjo noticed that its left ear was a bit torn.

“No, it’s true. I swear.”

The cat remained unimpressed. Anjo stuck his tongue out.

“You know what? I don’t need to defend myself in front of you! I’ve had like the worst day today and…”, he faltered. “Why am I even talking to you? You’re just a cat, a mean thief-cat to be exact.

I must be going crazy or something. The whole magic stuff is making me crazy. That must be it. It’s not like you can understand me-“

The cat meowed at him. Well, it sounded like a grumpy version of a meow, so maybe more like mreow but anyways. The young wizard almost dropped his cigarette.

“Did…did you just answer me?”

Another mreow.

Anjo didn’t know if this was supposed to be a yes or no so he just stayed silent.

 

Those encounters in the back alleys continued for a few weeks (every time Anjo tried to pet it, it would hiss at him but he never gave up) until one night the black cat didn’t come. Anjo was somehow disappointed and maybe a bit sad (a fact that he would deny whenever asked and take not only to his grave nut also his afterlife). Which was ridiculous because who got emotional over a stray cat, that only maybe loved him for the 10 dollar ham.

 

Anjo Pharista, freshly known wizard in training because his life wasn’t already enough of a mess and to put a cherry on top bemoaning the loss of a rude thief-cat.

 

That’s who.

 

So, he had waited even after his shift if maybe the cat would still come. It didn’t. When it began to rain, Anjo threw the ham into his bag and went home, kicking imaginary stones the whole way.

Upon arriving in his little one-room apartment the first thing he heard was a muffled but very grumpy mreow. Anjo couldn’t believe his eyes but there, in front of his window on the fire escape staircase, sat a very poor looking drenched black cat, meowing at him accusingly as if to ask why the hell he was home so late and why he wouldn’t already open the window to let it in.

 

Still caught in astonishment he went to get a closer look (yep, left ear torn. He wouldn’t want to let a stray cat into his apartment…well an unknown stray cat) and opened the window. The cat looked at him for second and jumped from the windowsill onto his bed, leaving a big wet spot.

“You’re fucking rude, you know that?” Anjo laughed but it died when the cat began to roll around in the sheets, enlarging the wet spot. The young wizard blinked.

“Unbelievable,” he squawked “You savage!”

The cat only mreowed.

 

After casting a basic dry-spell (he had experience with that. Hah, get it? Experience with a dry spell? Yeah, ok, it was more of a sad joke. He so needed to get laid, then he might stop talking to his maybe-familiar-but-probably-just-stray-cat-that-only-maybe-loved-him-for-the-10-dollar-ham…speaking of ham…) he went back to the little hallway to get his bag, fished out the ham and sat on his bed, where the cat was already making itself at home.

He watched it belly crawling in the now dry and slightly warm sheets. As rude as it was, it was also pretty fucking cute. Anjo waved the ham in its face. “Look what I got for you,” he singsonged and gulped when two yellow eyes zeroed on him. Suddenly, the little kitten was a predator, lowering itself, only butt high in the air, its black tail swinging dangerously from left to right.

 

And then it pounced.

 

Anjo screeched (a very manly screech, thank you very much), dropped the ham (what a déja-vu) and feel backwards down the bed, now staring at his ceiling fan. It was spinning as much as his head.

A while nothing happened but then, a little black fury head poked out from over his mattress and before the young wizard could comprehend what was about to happen it took a leap and landed unceremoniously on his stomach.

 

“UFFF!” was all Anjo had to say to that. He went a bit cross-eyed as the cat crawled from his stomach onto his chest and began to lick his nose. Anjo held his breath (He didn’t want to scare it away) and slowly raised his hand, trying to pet it. The cat narrowed its eyes on him, like always, but for the first time it didn’t growl and so Anjo commanded all his courage and gently slid his fingers through the soft fur on its head. It suspiciously flicked its ears but after a few seconds relaxed into the touch and began to rub its head against Anjos hand. The young man let out a breathless laugh.

 

He didn’t know how long they lay there but at some point Anjo could feel his body getting stiff from the position he was in (back on the floor, one leg on, one leg under his bed) and gently moved to get up, not wanting to disturb the kitten but also really wanting to sleep in his soft bed. But then the cat stirred. It opened one eye as if to say don’t you dare or I swear I’ll scratch up your whole face and so Anjo stayed still and eventually fell asleep to the purrs vibrating on his chest.

 

The next morning the cat was gone again.

What had stayed however, was the pain in his back from sleeping on the floor in a very not comfortable position.

 

These encounters too, continued. Anjo would get home and the cat was already waiting in front of his window, demanding to be let in. Sometimes, when the weathercast announced rain, the wizard would leave the window open a tiny crack, so the cat could come in anytime. He would feed it first to save his own food from its insatiable black tummy and tell it about his day. Then he would do his homework for magic class and it would either sleep on his lap or chest while he was reading (depending if it wanted to be petted or not) or sitting on the window sill, observing the busy life on the street. He even bought it a toy. A little pillow filled with cat-nip, that let its pupils dilate as if it was on drugs (which was, now that he thought about it, exactly what happened)

It was nice, Anjo thought, to come home to somebody. Even if that somebody was a rude as fuck black cat that ate him out of house and home.

 

But when he awoke in the morning it was always gone.

 

One particular evening, they were both lying on the bed, Anjo doing his reading for the next potion class, absentmindedly scratching its chin, while the cat was dozing next to him.

“You know,” he started, re-reading the same paragraph for the third time because his mind was entirely elsewhere, “Sometimes I wonder. Are you my familiar? Or are you really just a stray cat that comes here because it can get ham, caresses and a dry accommodation for rainy days.”

The cat looked at him quizzically. “And you don’t know either, right? Hell, you couldn’t answer me, even if you did.” It only tilted its head at Anjo. He sighted. “Thought so.” Then he closed his book, took off his reading glasses, turned off the light and went to sleep, prepared to wake up alone tomorrow morning.

 

Like always.

What he wasn’t prepared for when awakening was a mouth full of fur and a demanding mreow.

He spluttered and tried to shove the cat away from his face.

“Oh my- EW! GROSS! You get your fucking testicles outta my face or I swear I’ll-”

Eventually it finally got up but not before swishing its tail under Anjos nose, which caused him to sneeze. Three fucking times. (The cat looked at him like he was stupid. He’s not stupid)

 

Sourly he got up and went into the small kitchenette to get his first fix of caffeine for the day.

“Good to know you’re male,” Anjo stuck his head into the fridge. “Now I can finally name you.”

He rummaged through it until he found the cheese. The kitten looked at him like it wanted to say what only now? We’ve met months ago and Anjo shrugged. “I thought it would be rude to assume your gender and I also didn’t want to just…look. So, let’s see…how should I name you”

It wrinkled its nose at him.

“Oh no. You’re here to stay, you came to eat, you get a name.” Anjo said and dived back into the fridge. “Maybe something like Sir Fluffy McStuffypants.”

Where in the world had he put the mango jam? “Oh, or Heinz. You know, like Heinz Doofenschmirz? Because you are evil but also really adorable at it?” Maybe ha had run out of mango jam?

“Or maybe just Kater. Hah, get it? Because you are just as nasty as a hangover. I think Kater is good.”

 

While his brainstorming and search for mango jam Anjo hadn’t noticed how the cat had jumped on the table, right next to his already filled coffee cup. So when he turned around (after giving up on the jam, deciding that he probably really forgot to buy new one. Which was weird because he never forgot, but hey, he was magic and only knew about it for about 4 months so what was the definition of weird anyway) he froze.

The cat sat there, staring him dead in the eyes and slowly raising his paw.

“Wha…What are you trying to do?” The cat moved its paw to the cup.

Anjo took a sharp inhale. “No, Kater, don’t you dare, I told you, you are getting a name, if you like it or- no, Kater I know what you’re doing stOP RIGHT THERE KATER I FUCKING SWEAR TO GOD-“

 

And then it shoved the cup right off the fucking table.

(Such cat-like. Very evil-mastermind. Much nasty. Wow.)

 

As Anjo cleaned the coffee off…well basically the whole kitchen (how had the cat been able to do that?) he decided to keep the name Kater, just to spite it.

 

His thoughts were interrupted by a grumpy mreow. Speak of the devil. A devil, who once had been a rude little kitten but was now a rude fat cat. Ok. Not fat. But…bigger (and as rude as owlways).

He glanced down to see Kater poking his head out of the bag, flicking his ears against the upwind. “Don’t worry, we’re almost there. I can already smell the salt.” He grinned when Kater sneezed and went back into the warmth.

 

It was about ten minutes later that Anjo started his approach for a landing. When he broke through the clouds the sea came into view and with it the little town. Little town full of little people. It was already pretty late but there were still a few lights flickering in the windows. Anjo steered his broom to the woods, not wanting to draw any attention to himself by flying directly over the roofs. Luckily for him, his Grandmother lived on the forest side and not by the beach.

Upon arriving above Juliette’s front yard Anjo sank lower until his feet almost touched the ground, the he mumbled a reverse spell and his broom turned back into its silver charm dangling from his bracelet. With his knees still a little wobbly from the adrenalin, he stumbled more than walked to the door and rang the bell.

 

Only seconds later the door was ripped open and revealed his Grandmother, who promptly pulled him into a tight hug.

“Anjo,” she exclaimed happily. “I’m so glad you made it. I’m so excited that you’re going to spend the whole summer here. I’ve got still so much to teach you and weekends only can do so much”

“How was the journey? I hope nothing to wild happened? No planes? And no strong winds? I saw that it was raining at your city?” A whole flood of words was thrown at the young wizard. He laughed and gently shoved at his grandmother to escape her strong grip. “Everything went fine, Moma,” he paused. “And that with the plane happened literally one time.”

 

Anjo thought back six months, to the first time he flew over to Juliette on his broom for the weekend. Flying was a bit on the more advanced side of spells and usually taught later but magic classes over video chat were…disadvantageous to say the least. Under normal circumstances beginners were only allowed to practice magic in presence of their teacher (so that they could prevent the worst). That meant for Anjo that all he could practice was the theory behind the spells.

 

So, the flying spell would be his first practical use of magic. Of course, he had wanted to practiced it before actually flying all the way across the country. And the spell in itself hadn’t been the problem. He had started with casting it at random objects which wouldn’t do too much damage, should something go wrong. No problem at all.

But when he put it on the broom…

And the actual flying part was…well, difficult at first.

Let’s just say that his old ceiling fan was not a thing anymore.

But as the genius that he was had Anjo realized that cramped places and object weren’t really a problem in the sky.

 

And then there was the plane.

 

Nothing too bad had happened in the end so he didn’t know why Juliette even brought it up.

Every weekend.

At this moment something moved in Anjos bag and his Grandmothers attention was caught.

“Oh, Anjo. Is that?”, she asked and then yellow eyes appeared over the edge, taking in their new surroundings.

 

“Hm? Oh yeah. Moma meet Kater. Kater, Moma. He’s my magical pet.”

 

Juliette hesitated. “Anjo that’s- “

 

“No, don’t say anything, I know it familiar not magical pet. No worries,” he dismissed.

 

“No but he is- “, she tried again.

 

“Mean? Nasty? Thinking to high of himself? Yeah but he’s a cat so I think that’s only natural” Anjo shrugged.

 

“Well- “, his Grandmother faltered when he beamed at her.

 

“And you were right. He came to find me. I really had my doubts and it sure was one hell of a bumpy ride but in the end, it all worked out. Right, Kater?”

He smiled fondly at the cat who looked up at him and mreowed, which caused Anjo to laugh.

Then the young wizard turned back to his grandmother.

“Sorry, I keep interrupting you. What was it that you wanted to say?”

 

Juliette just shook her head and smiled. “No. Its nothing. I just wanted to say that he looked very handsome.” She crouched down to scratch Kater behind the ears. Seeing her grandson so happy, finally having his familiar, she didn’t have the heart to tell him, that this black cat was a simple stray which didn’t have one ounce of Magic in him.

“Don’t let him fool you,” Anjo warned. “ He is evil. Nasty when you don’t expect it. That’s why I named him Kater. Get it? Because he is like a hangover?”

Juliette and Kater remained unimpressed.

Pff, philistines.

 

With heavy paws announcing her arrival, Juliette’s familiar Lucy, a huge Alaskan Malamute, came rushing around the corner, slipping on the wooden floor and crashing into Anjo, burying him under her 38 kilos.

“Lucy! Down!” Juliette ordered, sounding outright scandalized. As if this wasn’t happening every weekend upon her Grandsons arrival. Even Anjo was used to the wet tongue in his face by now.

Not that he didn’t still find it gross, because ew germs.

 

Who was as disgusted as his servant but definitely not used to a huge fluffy monster drenching him in salvia was Kater. Lucy on the other hand couldn’t understand the problem of the little black thingy which seemed petrified but was hissing at her furiously with its hair all bristled up at the same time.

 

To make the chaos perfect the door swung open.

 

“Hey, Juliette, I heard that Anjo is here? Oh, there you are, freckles.” Bright blue eyes looked down on him. “I see your welcoming committee already took your breath away.”

“Hi, blondie. Good one by the way,” Anjo greeted, before blowing away a few of said blonde stands that fell into his face as the girl bowed over him. She giggled before pulling him up from under the weight of Lucy, who was now full focused on the new visitor.

 

“Aw, man. I was about to ask him how it was going down there and now you ruined it, Sera.”

 

Or maybe visitors.

 

Another blonde head came poking through the door.

“So, change of plans. What’s up, Anjo?” The man had the audacity to wink at him.

Anjo scrunched up his nose. He exchanged one look with Serafina, who only rolled her eyes at the antics of other blonde in the room (There was a reason why she was his best friend after all).

Anjo loved this girl to bits and pieces. Unfortunately, the same couldn’t be said about her older brother. He nodded coldly in his direction as some sort of greeting.

 

“Ramon.”

 

 

 

• To Be Continued

 

 

 

 

 

 

Next time on ‘Yeah but hear me out – Urban wizards AU’

 

“You…you’re British?”

Kater wrinkled his nose. “What gives you the idea?”

“Uhm. Your accent?” Anjo said as if it was the most obvious answer.

“That’s Australian, mate.” Kater deadpanned.

„Yeah, should’ve figured. You‘re way to rude to be British.”

“Oh, put a bloody sock on it, human.”
    “Pardon?”

Impressum

Tag der Veröffentlichung: 23.01.2018

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