A/N: Welcome back, good readers. So, this chapter's the longest yet and there's a perspective that many of you may find unexpected, but it was needed and I wanted to remind people that this person is still important to the story. Harry also makes a startling revelation, with a little help from Hermione, and Hagrid spouts wisdom. Please, enjoy.


Chapter 7: Like All Cats Do

Ron Weasley watched as a curious scene unfolded before him in the middle of the Great Hall, a spoonful of cereal hovering just a few inches from his mouth. He saw Neville sprint right past him as he made for the door, then heard the shrieks that emanated from beyond the towering doorway.

He grimaced at the sound. His heart filled with pity for the boy, he could still remember the shouts of his own mother echoing throughout the hall, the helplessness he'd experienced in front of a yelling piece of parchment. It was not a fate he would wish on anyone.

'Well, maybe one person' he thought bitterly, while his eyes fell upon Hermione.

It wasn't that he didn't like her, in fact she was normally a good friend. It just really annoyed him that she wasn't willing to admit she was wrong. Maybe a Howler would wake her up.

He'd expected that if he ignored her and left her to her own thoughts, eventually she'd come to her senses and apologise about what her... beast did. Unfortunately, he hadn't considered that Harry might not agree with him. Now it was Ron who was left to stew in his own thoughts.

He had been shocked when Harry had said he was supporting her. He could understand Hermione being reluctant to admit her mistake, but he'd expected Harry to see reason.

The fact that they were both against him had given Ron a hint of doubt about his actions. He was fine hanging around with Dean and Seamus and he always had Fred and George, but it just wasn't the same as spending time with Harry and Hermione.

It was probably all the things they'd done together. It wasn't required, but something about facing down trolls, giant spiders and carnivorous vines together certainly strengthened a friendship.

Since the attack on Gryffindor Tower, Ron had re-evaluated his stance on Scabbers' death. He still downright refused to apologise first, Hermione's attitude was just as bad as his. He knew he was being a bit of git, but it annoyed him that she was so certain she was right. He would only let the matter go when she admitted she was wrong and said sorry for doubting him.

However, he was ready to admit to himself that he'd been going about this the wrong way. He'd been trying to keep Scabbers' on her mind and make her feel guilty, but Harry's constant support of her made that nearly impossible.

He was so wrapped up in his musings that he failed to notice the brown owl waiting impatiently for him to take his letter. That is, until the bird nipped him sharply on the wrist.

"Ouch! Get off!" he exclaimed, jerking his hand back. The bird just looked at him with irritated eyes. He grumbled something about even the owls not liking him and roughly pulled the note off the birds leg. The owl took off again the minute the parchment was gone.

Ron tore open the envelope gloomily and unfolded the letter.

Ron,

How about coming down for tea this afternoon around six? I got something I want to talk to you about and I reckon you'll want to get out of the castle after what happened the other night.

Cheers,

Hagrid.

Ron read the invitation quickly and his brow creased. He couldn't think of what Hagrid would want to talk to him about. Then, he re-read the last line and his eyes brightened.

'He probably wants to hear all about Black' Ron deduced, stuffing the parchment in his pocket and getting up to head to Potions.

Ever since the incident, people had been coming to him asking for details. Details he was happy to provide. He may have added some embellishment to the tale, but he couldn't help it. Nobody had really paid any attention to him before, he was quite sure that the rest of the school knew him as Harry-and-Hermione's-Weasley-Friend.

He did like being associated with the boy-who-lived and the smartest witch in the year, but it made being noticed rather difficult. Add in the fact that every single one of his brothers was well known for something and it became quite frustrating. So yes, he was making the most of this spotlight that had been cast on him.


At six o'clock, Ron found himself stood outside Hagrid's hut, knocking for entry. The door opened and he was faced with the colossal man himself looking down at him.

"All right, Hagrid," he greeted, "S'pose you want to hear all about Saturday night, do you?"

"I already heard all abou' it," Hagrid replied dismissively, ushering him inside.

"Oh," he said, slightly put out. He'd spent most of the day thinking about how much to exaggerate when he spoke with Hagrid.

The first thing he noticed when he entered was a gigantic, hairy brown suit and a bright yellow and orange tie, hanging from the top of Hagrid's wardrobe door.

"What are they for Hagrid?" he asked as he took a seat at the table.

"Buckbeak's case against the Committee fer the Disposal o' Dangerous Creatures," said Hagrid, "This Friday. Him an' me'll be goin' down teh London together. I've booked us two beds on the Knight Bus..."

Ron felt a pang of guilt. He had completely forgotten that Buckbeak's trial was so near and his promise to help Hagrid prepare. The Firebolt and Scabbers had driven it clean out of his mind.

He accepted the cup of tea Hagrid offered, but ignored the plate of bath buns. He'd had too much experience of Hagrid's cooking.

"Is... er," began Ron awkwardly, "Is Buckbeak what you wanted to talk about?"

Hagrid sat down across from him and turned uncharacteristically serious. "No," he clarified in a similarly serious voice, "I've got somethin' else teh discuss with yeh."

"Er, what, exactly?" he asked nervously. He definitely didn't like this tone Hagrid was using.

"Hermione,"

Ron blinked, then snorted. "What about her?" he queried, his voice laced with irritation.

"She's in a righ' state, that's what," Hagrid's voice was slightly darker when he said this, "Firs' yeh weren' talking to her because o' the Firebol', now yer not talkin' to her because her cat..."

"...ate Scabbers!" Ron interjected angrily. He was getting annoyed now. Didn't Hagrid see that she just needed to apologise.

"Because her cat acted like all cats do," Hagrid continued, ignoring the outburst, "Harry's bin down here a few times. Says she's bin crying abou' it... an' other things. Worried abou' her he is, reckons she's bitten off more'n she can chew, with all that work she's doin'. Both o' them found time teh help with Buckbeak's case though... they've found some good stuff fer me... he should stand a chance now..."

Ron's anger was drowned by an immense feeling of guilt at Hagrid's words. Hermione had a huge workload, Harry had Quidditch and his extra lessons with Lupin, yet they had both found time to help. It was more than he'd done.

"Hagrid, I should've helped as well... sorry..." Ron began.

"I'm not blamin' yeh," assured Hagrid, waving the apology off, "I can see how yeh migh' get distracted after Scabbers. I remember how I was after Aragog... an' Norbert," his eyes turned serious again as he looked at Ron, "I jus' thought yeh'd value yer friends more'n broomsticks or rats. Tha's all."

Ron winced a bit. "That's what Harry said," he revealed.

Hagrid nodded, "Yeh should listen to him more, an' Hermione. They've got their hearts in the righ' place, those two. They were both really upset when Black nearly stabbed yeh."

Ron felt a slight twinge of guilt at the thought of them worrying about him, but he pushed it aside. "If she'd just get rid of that cat I'd speak to them again," he said exasperatedly, "But, they're both sticking up for it. It's a maniac and they won't hear a word against it!"

"Ah well, people can be a bit stupid abou' their pets," said Hagrid wisely.

Ron nodded in agreement, failing to realise that the statement could be used just as easily to describe him, as Hermione.


Hermione practically collapsed into an armchair by the end of her day.

She was surprised to find the common room entirely empty, but too tired to care. She'd had to repeat two hours for her double Muggle Studies class and it had exhausted her greatly. Harry had noticed this at dinner and, once again, expressed his concern about her workload.

To be honest, she was starting to see his point. She knew that repeated use was not healthy for her and this tiredness could have a bad effect on her exams.

Perhaps it was time to drop Divination. That subject was the only one she was willing to give up and she would still need to repeat hours for her classes if she did. However, it would free up a lot of her time and give her a more manageable workload.

She began to extract books from her bag and lay them across the table in front of her, when a ball of ginger fur chose that moment to leap up on top of her bag.

She leaned back in surprise and the cat took that as an invitation to curl up and purr.

"Crookshanks..." she sighed, shaking her head, "Crookshanks, I need to get my work done." She attempted to remove the offending feline, but he remained resolute where he was.

She sighed again and began to stroke him lightly, resigning to the fact that he would not be moved any time soon. Obviously, Crookshanks also thought she should take a break. Not that she was complaining, it was quite relaxing really, to just be sat here without worrying about her work.

She looked down and was struck by how cute the animal was when he did things like this. Frowning, she began to wonder how something so cute had managed to drive a wedge between her friends. She sometimes felt like it was her fault that Harry and Ron were not talking. She found herself feeling a bit guilty about breaking such a friendship.

It was as she thought this that the portrait hole opened to her right. She turned and saw Harry stride in and place his bag next to hers, taking the seat across from her.

He smiled at the sight of Crookshanks and said, "I think that's the first time I've seen you without a book in your hand since the start of the year."

She smiled back and continued to stroke her cat. "I think he agrees with you about me needing a rest," she said gesturing at the animal, "He can get overprotective sometimes."

Harry raised an eyebrow, "Are you sure he doesn't just enjoy being petted?"

She shrugged at that. "I wouldn't know. I don't speak cat," she replied, "But I often think he's more intelligent than we realise."

Harry nodded, "Maybe he is. I'm guessing you still want to get work done though."

She nodded reluctantly. She knew Harry and Crookshanks meant well, but she really did need to get that Runes essay done.

Harry sighed and a look of resignation crossed his face. Then, he got up and walked over to her, where he attempted to remove Crookshanks from his position on her bag.

The cat hissed as he was scooped up in Harry's arms. "Come on," said Harry, "Let's leave the girl to work. Trust me, I've known her longer than you, and you don't want to get between her and her essays."

Hermione let out a laugh at the sight of Harry struggling with the hissing feline. She watched as Harry sat back down again and fought to keep Crookshanks in place, "No," he said and scratched the cat behind the ears, "Stay here. It'll keep her happy."

Crookshanks gave a long purr as Harry continued to stroke him softly. Slowly, the cat began to relax on Harry's lap and continued to purr contentedly.

"I think we were both right," said Harry, staring at the animal, "He does want you to take a break, but he definitely enjoys this." Crookshanks purred in agreement.

Hermione didn't answer. She just smiled as she took in the content look on both Harry and Crookshanks' faces. The both of them looked so peaceful sat there, a look she rarely saw on either of them these days.

She once again found herself thinking about how cute he looked like that. Although, this time, she wasn't sure whether she was thinking about the boy or the cat.

Her eyes widened as she caught up with that thought.

She quickly stuck her head into her bag, to hide her blush, under the pretence of finding her books. 'Did I just call Harry cute?' she asked herself, knowing the answer was yes.

This wasn't the first time she'd caught herself having such thoughts about Harry, but she kept discarding them. 'He's my best friend' she reasoned, 'I shouldn't be thinking about him like this. I am not thinking about him like this. I don't need to make things complicated'

It was all the twins' fault. If they hadn't mentioned it the morning before the match, then she wouldn't be thinking like this. At least, that's what she told herself.

She stayed with her head buried in her bag until she was certain that the colour in her cheeks had faded. Only then did she emerge, and was met with the same, very not cute sight. It was wrong to think of it as cute.

When she pulled out her planner however, she realised that there actually was something wrong with this scene. She checked her watch to confirm it, then looked up at Harry.

"Harry?" she started and he looked up at her.

"Yeah, Hermione?"

"Why are you here?" she asked, "I thought you had a lesson with Lupin today."

Harry nodded, "I did, but he cancelled it. He said he was feeling ill again."

Hermione frowned and flicked to today's date in her planner. There was a little note in the corner which said Full Moon. Her face paled slightly. She'd already proved her suspicions, but it still helped to keep track and make sure he didn't miss one.

He hadn't missed one since she'd started making these notes.

She still wasn't sure what it meant. She was certain that they couldn't all be bad, no matter what she'd read while researching for Snape. Besides, Dumbledore wouldn't have hired him if he thought he was dangerous.

She looked up to see Harry staring at her with narrowed eyes. "You know something, don't you?" he asked her.

She sighed, still surprised that she was the only one to work it out. It wasn't exactly difficult to see. "Isn't it obvious?" she asked genuinely. She got a strong sense of deja vu and realised that they'd had this conversation before, but Ron had interrupted before she could share her theory.

Harry chuckled lightly, "Sorry Hermione, but we can't all be as smart as you."

She turned a little pink again at his statement and explained, "Well, it's not that hard to figure out. I'm sure Professor Snape knows, he's been dropping hints about it all the time."

"Snape? What are you talking about?" Harry frowned in obvious confusion.

Hermione bit her lip. She didn't want to outright tell him, she felt he should work it out for himself.

"Harry, think about Snape's Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson. Everything he did, he did to try and reveal Lupin's secret. I'm actually surprised I'm the only one who saw it, but I suppose the rest of you were too busy glaring at Snape to notice."

Harry shook his head, "I honestly have no idea what you're talking about Hermione. The only thing Snape seemed interested in teaching us about was..."

Harry's eyes widened and she saw the realisation spread across his face.

"No," he said, disbelief still written in his features.

"Yes," she countered, a small smile tugging at her lips.

"No. Hermione that's just... he's not..."

She rolled her eyes at his spluttering and decided to explain some more, "It's not just Snape, Harry. I began to notice while I was reading up for his essay, so I did a bit of digging. Remember what Ron said, Lupin wasn't in the Hospital Wing when he was supposed to be sick and his boggart, it wasn't a crystal ball, it was a moon. I've checked the dates he was ill against a lunar chart and it's always a full moon. Every time."

Harry just sat there, his mouth working furiously, but no sound escaping. She couldn't really blame him, he'd been spending a lot of time alone with the Professor recently.

"I even checked up on that potion Snape made," she continued, hoping to alleviate some of his fears, "I think it's Wolfsbane. It would explain why we haven't seen any more obvious signs. It would also explain why Snape knows about it, he would have had to make it each time Lupin... changed."

Harry just shook his head, still denying her logic, "You... you can't be serious about this Hermione."

She looked at him sadly and decided she should stop beating around the bush.

"I am serious, Harry. Professor Lupin is a werewolf."


Harry was shocked into silence by her words. It was one thing for her to imply that his favourite teacher was a werewolf, it was another thing for her to say it.

A thousand questions were racing through his mind. He could remember all those books he'd read on werewolves when Snape had set the essay. Everything he read about them screamed darkness and savagery. It made them sound like animals even when they weren't in their wolf form.

Lupin just didn't fit that image at all.

However absurd the notion was, Harry found that he believed Hermione. Not because he understood the evidence she'd listed or that he could even imagine Lupin as a wolf. No, Harry believed her because he knew her, and he knew she wouldn't lie about something like this.

So his next question was quite important, because it was the only bit he couldn't believe.

"But, Hermione. If he was a werewolf, surely he'd do more than get a little sick every full moon."

Hermione sighed and shook her head. Harry guessed that she'd probably already explained that and he hadn't understood.

"That's because of the Wolfsbane Harry," she began, going into what Harry silently referred to as her professor mode, "I don't really understand how it works, it's incredibly complex, but from what I can gather, it renders the drinker more... docile."

Harry frowned at the suggestion, "You mean that potion Snape gave him stops him from becoming a wolf."

She shook her head, "No. I think he still... changes, but he's not as wild when it happens. The potion most likely allows him to keep his mind and then he locks himself up somewhere. His office maybe?"

Harry frowned and fidgeted. Now that the shock had worn off, he could kind of accept that his teacher was a werewolf. In fact, it went a long way to explaining the tired look in the Professor's eyes. There was only one thing still weighing on Harry's mind.

"So he's... safe then?" he asked tentatively, "I mean from what Snape told us about werewolves..."

Hermione nodded, obviously understanding his worry, "I think they're just misunderstood Harry. I mean, it's not like they're animals all the time. By day, they're just like us, but I don't believe that everyone thinks that way. It must have been really hard for Professor Lupin to find a job and it would explain why he always wears those rags."

Harry thought about that. It made sense. Lupin was really the only werewolf Harry had any experience with and if he was anything to go by, then Hermione's logic seemed sound. As usual.

Harry went back over the points she'd made. He remembered the glowing white orb that hung unsupported in the middle of the classroom and the steaming goblet that Lupin sipped from slowly.

Suddenly, Harry found himself believing it. All of it. Which presented another question.

"Who else do you think knows?"

Hermione frowned in a way he recognised. It was the frown that said she was mentally calculating the answer to a question which she hadn't thought of until it was posed to her. He rarely saw that frown, usually she had the answers ready before you even asked.

"Dumbledore and Snape, definitely, and probably Madam Pomfrey. It wouldn't surprise me if other members of staff know, but I doubt very much that any of the students do. Unless, they figured it out like we did."

He nodded, bowing to her logic this time, "Do you think... I mean, should we talk to him about it?" he wondered out loud.

She bit her lip and a different frown crossed her face. It was the one that appeared when you asked her a question she was already struggling to find the answer to.

"I don't think so," she began, sounding unsure, "I don't think we should draw any unwanted attention to it. If I'm right about how people treat werewolves, then this information could get Lupin sacked. It's also possible that he's... ashamed of it."

"Ashamed? Why?" Harry asked, his confusion evident on his face.

Hermione gave him a look and Harry got the feeling he may have just said something very stupid.

"Harry, he's probably been treated badly for it his whole life. Like I said, he would have struggled to get a job and not many people are as understanding as Dumbledore. This would have been a black mark on his entire life."

Harry frowned again as her implications sunk in, "But, that's not fair. It's hardly his fault if he got bitten."

Hermione's own expression darkened, "I know it's not fair Harry. I think it's appalling, but it's most likely true."

Harry sat back in his chair and ran his hands down his face. He was being shown a much darker side of the wizarding world this year. He had seen the face of a man who killed thirteen people with a single curse, a man who was now after him. He was learning of the corruption that was found in the courtrooms through his research for Buckbeak's trial. He had experienced creatures that sapped your very soul and trapped you in your worst nightmares.

And now, this.

He turned back to Hermione, to see that she was looking at him expectantly. She wanted to hear his agreement or disagreement.

"Okay," he said finally, "We'll keep quiet about it. If you're right, then the man deserves some privacy."

She beamed at him and returned to taking her books out of her bag. He sighed and gazed out of a nearby window, pondering what this new revelation meant. When he reached the conclusion that it didn't really change anything at the moment, he stood up to remove his books from his bag.

He was, of course, answered by angry hissing and claw marks on his legs. He had forgotten that Crookshanks was on his lap. The feline hissed at him again and stalked off towards the portrait hole, somehow managing to walk in a way that conveyed how offended he was.

Hermione watched the scene with mild amusement and Harry collapsed back into his chair, gently rubbing his legs where Crookshanks' claws had been.

"Great," he said throwing his arms in the air dramatically, "Now I have two gingers that hate me. As if things weren't bad enough."

He and Hermione took one look into each other's eyes and burst into laughter.

Any dark thoughts about werewolves were lost immediately.


A/N: Yes, I decided to write Ron. I would love to know what you think of his attitude, since it's an important part of the plot. Also, Harry now knows about Lupin, I doubt it's going to change much until the events in the Shrieking Shack, but there it is. Until next time, good readers.