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Harry looked at Mrs. Figg, and nodded.
�Alright,� she said, �The whole thing started when You-Know-Who��
�You mean Voldemort?� Harry interrupted. Mrs. Figg winced. �Oh, sorry,� he quickly apologized.
�It�s alright dear, no harm done. Anyway, as I was saying, when You-Know-Who killed your parents, but couldn�t kill you. So as you already know, Albus needed��
�You mean Professor Dumbledore? You know him?� Harry interrupted for the second time. Mrs. Figg gave Harry a stern look. �Oh, I�m sorry,� he apologized again. He looked at his feet.
�Quite alright dear. And, yes, I do know Professor Dumbledore. We are actually good friends. But as I was saying, Dumbledore knew that You-Know-Who wasn�t dead, and he needed a safe place to keep you. He knew that your only relatives were the Dursley�s, but they were not very safe. He wanted someone to look after you, like a guardian, until he knew You-Know-Who was no longer a threat to you. I volunteered, and he sent me to live next door to you. I had to drink this polyjuice potion to keep muggle suspicion down, because, as you can see, I don�t exactly look like a muggle.� Mrs. Figg chuckled. �So I live here when you are at home, and I go other places while you�re at school. I get tired of living here all the time, and I need to do normal witch things, you know?� She smiled.
�Yeah. But, is your real name Mrs. Figg?� Harry asked.
�Oh yes, my full name is Arabella Figg,� she said. Harry recognized that name from somewhere, but he couldn�t remember where. A cat jumped onto Harry�s lap.
�Why do you have all these cats?� Harry said before he could stop himself.
�Oh these. Well you see, Harry, these aren�t ordinary cats!� exclaimed Mrs. Figg.
�They�re not?� Harry said, bewildered.
�Oh no! You see Harry, these �cats� are actually part kneazle,� she explained.
�Kneazles? What are those?� Harry questioned.
�Harry, didn�t you read your book, Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them?�
�No, sorry,� Harry mumbled, blushing a little.
�Here, I�ll get it out.� Mrs. Figg walked over to her bookshelf and pulled out a small, red book. She took it over to the couch and sat down. �Here we are,� she said after flipping through the pages. Harry looked at the book with interest.
�Alright, it says here, �The Kneazle was originally bred in Britain, though it is now exported worldwide. A small, catlike creature with flecked, speckled, or spotted fur, outsize ears, and a tail like a lion�s, the Kneazle is intelligent, independent, and occasionally aggressive, though if it takes a liking to a witch or a wizard, it makes an excellent pet. The Kneazle has an uncanny ability to detect unsavory or suspicious characters, and can be relied on to guide its owner safely home if they are lost. Kneazles have up to eight kittens in a litter, and can interbreed with cats. Licenses are required for ownership, as Kneazles are sufficiently unusual in appearance to attract Muggle interest.� There, does that explain it?� she asked.
�But why do you own them?� Harry wondered.
�Well the thing is, kneazles are �watch cats� you might say. If You-Know-Who was to ever come here, my kneazle-cats would let me know. They make it easier to watch over you,� she said.
Suddenly, Harry�s insides began to writhe again. He started to jolt and his skin began to melt. His whole body burned with pain and he wriggled around.
�Try to relax!� Mrs. Figg exclaimed. Harry tried but it didn�t work for him. After about a minute of melting and reforming, the pain ceased and Harry was turned back into his normal self. �Oh good, said Mrs. Figg, �No side effects.� She smiled and stood up. �Well, if you don�t mind, I�d like to go take my nap now.�
�Oh, ok,� Harry said. Mrs. Figg walked up the steps to her room.