As James set the table, he was simultaneously fuming and miserable. He was without testes, incontinent and with a diaper! It was so humiliating! What else could go wrong? He grumbled swear words, muttering under his breath.
"It could be worse, you know," said a voice.
It was a good thing James had already placed glasses, plates and cutlery on the tablecloth, or else he would have dropped everything. The voice was male, and the strangest thing was that it seemed to come from downwards. Near his feet in fact. He glanced down and was surprised, although not as much as he would have a mere few hours ago, a black cat with light green eyes sitting on its haunches and opening its mouth, not to miaow but to speak in a male voice.
"I am serious. It could be worse. Really. At least you still have opposable thumbs," said the cat.
"Who are you?" asked James, nonplused.
"The pet cat. Appropriately black. Obviously. Now, I mean. More than two years ago, I was a tenant, just like you."
"You've been a cat for two years?" said James, startled.
"Yes indeed. Plenty of time to resign myself to using a litter box and eating cat food. Dry, thank goodness. You can still use a bathroom, at least, even if you still have to don a diaper."
"What do you do all day?" asked the youngster.
"I give hair for for their potions. I chase mice. I look at the world outside. I scratch a scratching post. I sniff catnip and roll in it. I nap. A lot. I fetch things. I'm their familiar, simply put. And we share a common plight."
The cat sat half-lying down to show his groin and James saw that the former human too lacked his testicles.
"You're neutered too," he said in a low voice.
"You get used to it," said the cat, shaking himself in an imitation of shrugging his shoulders. "It's not like I can touch myself with these paws and claws, too risky with the claws actually, and no, I don't want to lick what's left of my privates and my groin with my tongue. And with whom would I use my testes? Female cats? Human girls? The witches? So I don't miss them that much. They'd be too small and furry for my taste anyway. Hopefully it won't come down to that for you. Then again, if you were transformed into an animal, it'd be easier to accept. At least, I'm happy to have a new person around, whatever might happen. Misery loves company, you know."
James was trying to process all that and answer but he just thought for enough time for the witches to come back with the food. Hilda shooed the black cat away, who slinked away and asked everyone to sit. However, Magnus and his women first stared at their unfortunate victim, and James feared whatever was to come. It did not bode well.