Chapter 102 - You Can’t Beat a Cat

A fiery exchange of glances between Ron and Crookshanks seemed to spark real tension.

"Ron, you lost to a cat," Harry said, his gaze complex as he looked at Ron.

"I—I wasn't really serious about it!" Ron rolled up his sleeves, trying to look fierce. "It's just a cat! I didn't even use my wand!"

"Harry, I swear, my spellcasting has improved a lot since I got my new wand."

"Really! Don't look at me like that—Bill even taught me…"

Crookshanks opened his mouth wide, letting out a sharp, disdainful Ka-kah.

Stupid little wizard.

Invisible, Lupin observed the red-haired, freckle-faced boy. It reassured him—Gryffindor still felt like Gryffindor. Harry, on the other hand, was so decisive and careful that Lupin struggled to see any trace of James' recklessness in him.

Crookshanks sniffed the air and suddenly arched his back, baring his teeth in the direction of Lupin.

"Easy now, he's one of us. Sit tight." Harry patted Crookshanks on the head.

Crookshanks obediently lowered himself into a crouch again.

"Answer my question honestly—did you eat Scabbers?" Harry asked.

Crookshanks shook his head, swishing his tail lazily.

"Liar!" Ron snorted.

Crookshanks puffed up angrily, clearly ready for another round.

"You can't beat him. Crookshanks has no reason to lie to you," Harry said seriously, turning to Ron.

Ron inhaled sharply and stuffed his hand into his robe pocket, gritting his teeth. "Harry, I swear, it's not that I can't beat him, it's just… I, uh…"

He waved his hands around in frustration.

"I get it." Harry patted him on the shoulder, "I get it."

Ron let out a sigh of relief.

"Cat Kneazles are rated as 3X dangerous magical creatures," Harry explained to comfort him. "You're only in your third year—there's no shame in losing to one."

Ron froze, his face twisting painfully.

"Try to win by the end of the school year."

That final line stabbed Ron in the heart like a dagger. Humiliated, he nearly pulled out his wand to challenge Crookshanks to a duel right then and there, just to prove to Harry that he could beat the ginger, scrunched-faced cat.

"Did Scabbers escape?" Harry asked Crookshanks.

Crookshanks nodded.

"Why didn't you stop him?" Harry placed his hand on the cat's head.

Crookshanks began yowling furiously but then paused, realizing Harry probably didn't understand cat language. He anxiously paced back and forth on the table.

"Was it because I told you not to touch him?" Harry recalled something.

Crookshanks let out a relieved breath, nodded, and swished his tail in confirmation.

Harry patted the cat's head. "Then I'll give you a task. If you catch him, bring him to me."

Crookshanks stood up, nuzzling his head against Harry's hand and letting out a threatening yet sweet-sounding meow.

"You want a reward?" Harry smiled. "If you find him, I'll give you a pound of owl treats—the ones I fed you the other day."

Crookshanks perked up and let out two eager meows.

It didn't know how much "a pound" was.

But what was wrong with a poor little kitty wanting more?

"Alright, two pounds if you find him." Harry agreed.

Crookshanks let out a delighted trill and, testing his limits, meowed three times.

Harry remained silent, staring coldly at the cat without any emotion.

Crookshanks shrank back, swiped Harry's hand with his tail in a huff, and leaped off the table. After a quick Ka-kaah, it darted off into the crowd and disappeared.

Ron stared dumbfounded at the spot Crookshanks had occupied moments ago.

"There's something wrong with Scabbers," he said in a low, uneasy voice.

Harry turned to him. Seeing that Neville and the others had already gone to bed, he suggested, "Let's talk outside. It's not curfew yet."

Ron nodded.

As they climbed out of the common room, they ran into Hermione, who had just returned.

"Harry, you're back already? Is Professor Lupin okay?" Hermione asked, surprised that he had returned before her.

"He seems okay," Harry replied. "But there's something odd about Scabbers."

Hermione looked startled and instinctively glanced at Ron.

Ron appeared dazed and confused.

"Want to come along?" Harry asked her.

Hermione hesitated only briefly before joining them as they walked to a secluded balcony in the tower.

Lupin appeared with a flick of his wand, dissolving his invisibility.

Hermione reacted quickly, pulling out her wand, but stopped mid-gesture when she realized who it was. Embarrassed, she stammered, "Oh, Professor Lupin! You're here too."

"Harry invited me," Lupin said with a gentle smile, though even smiling made him look frail.

Hermione flushed.

"What's going on with Scabbers?" Ron's voice trembled as his unease deepened. Gripping Harry's sleeve, he asked, "What do you mean there's something wrong?"

"It might be an Animagus," Harry said gently.

"That's impossible! Scabbers has been in my family for thirteen years!" Ron protested, shaking his head violently.

Hermione said quietly, "But an ordinary rat can't live for thirteen years."

"Actually, it might be one of my father's friends," Harry continued.

Ron's face paled, his voice trembling. "Sirius Black?"

But then he quickly corrected himself.

"No, wait."

"He's been locked up in Azkaban until recently."

"It's Peter," Harry revealed.

"The hero?" Ron's voice shot up in pitch. Over the summer, he'd heard his parents mention the events of thirteen years ago. "But he's dead!"

Harry turned to Lupin, who explained softly, "Peter was an unregistered Animagus. He could transform into a rat."

"Not all rats are Peter!" Ron clung to the notion desperately. The Weasleys weren't wealthy, and Ron's belongings were few and precious.

Scabbers, as shabby as he was, was one of the most valuable things Ron owned.

It was like Harry losing a bag of Galleons—it would hurt deeply.

But for Ron, this felt even heavier—after all, Harry had far more than a single bag of Galleons.

"Peter was missing a finger on his right hand. Scabbers is missing a toe on his right paw." Harry patted Ron's shoulder. "Peter supposedly died thirteen years ago, and Scabbers appeared in your family thirteen years ago."

"That's too many coincidences."

Ron's face turned ghostly white.

"Look on the bright side—it's a good thing," Harry said, trying to comfort him.

Ron looked at him, confused.

"If we find him and he's a good person, he can compensate you with a new pet," Harry said softly.

"If he's a bad person, I'll kill him myself." He paused to calm himself. "And since I'd have killed your pet, I'll replace him. Owl or cat?"

Ron's mood improved slightly as he began to debate between an owl and a cat—or perhaps another kind of pet.

"I recommend a cat," Harry said solemnly.

Ron's eyes widened. "No, I can beat Crookshanks!"

Hermione, who had been lost in thought, perked up at the mention of her cat. "What about Crookshanks?"

Ron reached out, trying to silence Harry. "Don't, Harry! You can't say it."

Harry calmly pressed Ron's head down. "Ron thought Crookshanks ate Scabbers earlier, so he fought him. And lost."

Ron let out a despairing groan.

Hermione opened her mouth, momentarily speechless. After a while, she sighed, unsure whether to pity Ron or Harry. "The real issue here isn't Crookshanks—it's Sirius Black."

Ron blinked. "What about him?"

"If Scabbers is Peter, and he's still alive…" Hermione trailed off, confused. "But he was a hero. Why would he go into hiding?"

"I'm wondering the same thing," Harry agreed.

Hermione prepared to analyze the situation.

Harry waved his hand. "The solution is simple—just find him. Then we'll know."

"Accio, Legilimens, or Veritaserum—any of those will get us the truth."

Lupin's eyes widened. He didn't know what Accio could do, but he was all too familiar with the other two. "No, Harry, you can't! The Ministry—"

"The Ministry doesn't allow unregistered Animagi either," Harry interrupted, expressionless. "And they don't allow, well… you know."

Lupin's face twitched awkwardly.

The Ministry's Werewolf Code of Conduct had plenty of restrictions, but Lupin's position at Hogwarts clearly ignored those rules.

"I hate tedious rules," Harry said with a shake of his head. "The simplest solution is usually the best one. Even if, in some cases, the rules are necessary."

Lupin sighed. "You're far bolder than your father. I finally understand why you were placed in Gryffindor. For a while, I thought you'd have been better off in Ravenclaw."

Ron scoffed, "Look at Harry's eyes. He's born for Gryffindor."

Hermione, Lupin, and Harry all paused, unsure of what to say.

Hermione sighed, conflicted. "I'll give you a book for Christmas, Ron. You have to read it."

Ron frowned. "What? Harry is a natural Gryffindor!"

"Yes, I am," Harry agreed with a nod. "Want me to teach you some tricks to beat a Kneazle?"

"I can beat Crookshanks!" Ron shouted indignantly. "What kind of tricks?"

Hermione said goodnight to Lupin and dragged Ron back to the common room.

Lupin lingered, staring at the dark outline of the Forbidden Forest. The cold wind and occasional raindrops transported him back twenty years.

Harry turned back, calling out to Lupin. "Professor Lupin, half a month—no more."

"If Crookshanks or you don't find Scabbers by then, I'll have to tell Professor Dumbledore."

"Danger can't be allowed to linger."

"Half a month later, I'll visit you again. I'll have more questions about Professor Snape—you might want to prepare in advance."

He paused.

"Although I don't trust house-elves much…"

"If you're confident, Professor, you could give them a try."

Lupin felt a warmth in his chest and smiled faintly. "I understand, Harry. Goodnight. See you in our first class."

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