Chapter 52- Cat and Rat

*****Harry*****

The biggest surprise of the Ravenclaw vs. Slytherin match came before the game even started. When the teams lined up and the captains were to shake hands, Adrian Pucey didn't take hand offered by Roger Davies, but pointed the Ravenclaw captain to Draco instead.

Draco was the captain of the Slytherin quidditch team as a third year. And Harry didn't even know before then, which made him feel… a little lonely. He considered them to be good friends, but they really didn't… talk that much. But they were in different houses, and only had potions class together, and they each partnered with someone from their own house.

Draco was leading the chasers in different plays, and it was working well- really well. Harry tried not to listen as Ron was going on about how team captains were almost always fifth year, at least, and they got perks like getting to use the prefects loo. He was pretty sure that Hermione soaked in that information more than she ever listened about quidditch techniques.

Harry's real focus when watching a quidditch game though would always be searching for the snitch. He'd seen it twice before either seeker noticed it. The third time Harry spotted it, both seekers did too, but Higgs got into Cho Chang's way, making them both lose sight of it.

They were making up for lost ground with Gryffindor and hedging against future games. Harry wished that he could just pull for his friend rather than having to consider the future of his own team with every move Draco made. Ahead two hundred points with the seekers barely seeming relevant anymore. Until Cho saw an opportunity to end the game and took it. Maybe Ravenclaw wanted to play the points game that both Slytherin and Gryffindor were engaged in, or maybe the game had just gone on long enough.

So Slytherin won only by fifty, but with still a large point total to surpass, and less than a month before Gryffindor would be playing their next game, this one against Hufflepuff.

*Harry*

Quidditch practice continued to go well. Ginny was proving herself to be very talented, probably as good as any of the other chasers they had which- made Harry glad that he wasn't the captain with decisions like that to make for next year. The other chaser reserves were doing fine, and Colin was getting better all the time, especially when he borrowed the Firebolt.

The younger boy had excelled in their casual defense practices too, after Harry had invited him. The second year learned a pretty good stunner and shield charm, though Ginny enjoyed breaking it. Ginny was… very aggressive. She didn't take well to shielding and couldn't manage a whisp of a patronus, but that tiny witch quickly learned a terrifyingly strong blasting charm, which made Harry wonder if even Milly could fix some of those pillows. She still enjoyed her bat-bogey hex the best, a spell that apparently Fred and George taught and then regretted.

Quickly, it was time for their next quidditch match, with each match important for the Cup.

And Cedric Diggory was who Harry had been looking forward to playing most, even if the older boy hadn't been that impressive against Ravenclaw, Harry was thought Cedric would be more… focused this time, playing against Harry instead of a pretty fourth year witch, and also might feel that he had more to prove.

But, it would also be Harry's first quidditch match riding the Firebolt.

"Ready, Harry?" Oliver asked for the third time that morning. Harry wished he would just focus on someone else. Harry was wondering if he should have eaten more breakfast, but he was never very hungry before a game.

"Yeah, I'm ready." There was nothing to do for him but flying and catching the snitch. It wasn't so much as raining that day, much better than their last game. And nothing bad could happen to him with his dad watching. Even a dementor attack in a thunder storm hadn't gone too badly for him last time because his father was that good.

Harry watched as the two captains shook hands. They were about the same height and build, but that made Cedric large for a seeker, at least compared to the ones Harry had flown against before.

The Hufflepuff team was young, maybe as young as the Gryffindor team had been when Harry joined it. That was probably why Diggory as a sixth year was the captain, even though he was only on the reserve team the year before. Harry hadn't really paid attention to anyone but the seeker at the time, but he was pretty sure that no one was left from the Hufflepuff team just two years ago.

Maybe they would be really good in a couple years, like Gryffindor was now, but the Gryffindor chaser line had already scored two goals on their keeper within the first couple minutes of the game.

Harry and Diggory must have spotted the snitch at the same time, but Harry on his Firebolt was faster. Gryffindor win, one hundred seventy to zero. Lee was going on about how he had never announced a match where one team didn't score, and how it had been the quickest match he had ever watched, as Professor McGonagall tried to silence him.

Harry wondered if he could have made the same catch on his old Nimbus 2000. He hoped he could have. Maybe he would trade brooms with Ginny next practice instead of Colin just to remember what the old Nimbus felt like. She'd probably really like that.

*****Harry*****

"You coming?" Harry asked. It was unlike Ron to be delaying going down to breakfast. Even if he wasn't a morning person, he never missed a meal.

"I can't find my wand!" Ron protested, rifling through his trunk, even though Ron always kept his wand on the table beside his bed when he slept.

Harry bit his lip. He'd never tried it before, but it was worth a try, "Accio Ron's wand," he said, mimicking the motion he'd seen Tonks and his dad use. Nothing. "Maybe I did it wrong," he said apologetically. "Accio Harry's potions essay," he tried, and to his momentary delight, his scroll came to his hand. "Oh. Sorry," he said. "Did you leave it in a class maybe? Herbology after the de-pussing?" Harry suggested.

"I don't think so. Ugh, and the teachers are bound to notice, so if I don't find it today, I'll have to write Mum," Ron complained.

"Here," Harry was surprised by Neville handing Ron a clear ball. Neville's remembrall, Harry remembered.

"If it turns red, it means you've forgotten something. Maybe about where your wand is," Neville explained. Harry remembered that ball well, though it still didn't seem that useful if it couldn't say where Ron had lost his wand.

Ron took the ball, and all three boys stared at it. No change.

"So… I didn't forget it somewhere. Does that mean it was stolen?" Ron asked slowly. "Crookshanks!" Ron accused. "That cat is always trying to get in here, and it hates me. And Scabbers was under my covers this morning, and he usually doesn't do that. He was scared!" Ron declared, picking up the rodent and putting it in his shirt pocket. Or maybe the rat was just cold and wanted to be where it was warm. Harry wondered why Scabbers didn't have a cage like Godric did, but he wasn't going to say anything when Ron was already upset. He supposed that the cat didn't have a cage either.

"Well, you shouldn't need it for Care of Magical Creatures, and then we've got Transfiguration, so you can ask McGonagall what to do if we haven't found it yet?" Harry suggested. Though it did seem like he was going to have to write his parents.

Harry couldn't concentrate well in Arithmancy, thinking about Ron's problem. At least Ron hadn't really accused Hermione's cat of taking it, not where Hermione could hear. Harry felt slightly more protective of Hermione after hearing her talk about her family over Christmas. It would be hard to love people and not tell them so much about you. And Ron's thought was ridiculous anyway. Harry could understand a cat wanting a rat, but what would a cat want with a wand? Harry was of the opinion that Ron probably lost it somewhere and the Remembrall just wasn't that good, but he'd still try to tell his father. And he'd keep sleeping with his wand under his pillow.

Just before Transfiguration class, Ron was able to talk to McGonagall, but all she could advise him was to write to his parents. But Ron could borrow Hedwig, and at least he'd hear back soon.

*****Harry*****

"Ron?" Neville asked, sounding panicked when the other boys were readying for breakfast the next morning. "Did you ever find your wand? Because now I can't find mine, and it's practically the only thing I've never lost. And- er, I really wanted a new wand, but Gran didn't like that idea, thought it was -er – disrespectful to the relative whose wand I've got, and now she might think I lost it on purpose," Neville finished in a mumble.

"No- sorry. I had to write Mum and Dad and they were… not happy. But now there really must be wand thief!" Ron proclaimed, "So you can prove to your grandmother that you didn't lose it at all." Harry thought this was still jumping to conclusions a little quickly, because Neville did lose things often. Though Ron didn't. Harry reminded himself that he really should have already talked to his dad about this.

"Scabbers, was that nasty cat in here?" Ron asked aloud. "Scabbers?" Ron called again, as if he expected the rat to make a noise back. "Scabbers! Harry, do the summoning thing," Ron asked frantically, tearing apart his four-poster bed.

"Accio Scabbers," Harry tried, to no result.

"Er- Ron?" came Neville's voice more timid that Harry had heard in a while. "I think there's some blood on your sheets. You don't think…" he said, pointing to a spot near the foot of the bed.

"Cat hair," Ron said, gripping something that Harry could barely see. "Ginger cat hair."

"It could have been-" Harry started to say, though privately he was pretty sure that Crookshanks had finally Scabbers. He had tried a few times, after all, starting the day Hermione bough him.

"Next to blood?" Ron asked, wiping at his eyes and running for the door, "HERMIONE!" he screamed.

Harry followed reluctantly behind, hoping that Hermione was already at breakfast, but of course she was waiting for them.

"Your beast was in my room," Ron said, shaking the hand that still clutched ginger cat hair in her face.

"Oh, I'm sorry. He just likes to explore," Hermione started.

"He ATE Scabbers," Ron screamed, and… now he was crying too.

"I-" Hermione alarmed. "Crookshanks wouldn't do that. Did you check under the bed?" she asked in a way that Harry thought was supposed to be calming but...

"You're blind. That beast has wanted to eat Scabbers since before you got it. I TOLD you to keep it in your room or at least out of mine. Scabbers only stays in my room or in my pocket," Ron cried angrily. "Or he did before he was dead."

"Are you sure you didn't just- misplace him? Like your wand- I'm sure he'll turn up," Hermione tried.

"Like my wand? There's two wands missing in our dorm, and I think your cat stole them too, but I didn't say anything because I didn't have proof, but I do for Scabbers," he said, shaking the hairs again. "Cat hair found next to blood."

"I- I don't believe it," Hermione said, stepping back. "I'll just- I'll find him and- and I'll prove that he didn't do it," Hermione said, running back up to the girl's dormitory. Harry didn't know how she intended to do that… and he wasn't looking forward to the rest of the day sitting between them- or without them.

*****Harry*****

"Harry?" His father asked from the couch. Dora was sitting in his dad's lap but looked up to smile at Harry.

"Wotcher, Harry," she said with a smile. "Sorry I haven't seen you much lately, kid."

Dora didn't get to spend much time with his dad either, and Harry couldn't just ruin their time together. Dora was always so busy with auror stuff. It was silly of him anyway. "I'll just… go," Harry said, already backing out of the room.

"Nonsense. You've seen me kiss your old man before, but no more of that anyway. Sorry, Severus. I haven't seen you since Christmas, Harry. How are you?"

"I'm fine. Can I sleep here, Dad?" Harry asked before he lost his nerve.

His father looked curious, "It is your room whenever you want it, Harry." Good. "But I will ask that you tell me what is troubling you." Of course. "Has anyone threatened you? Harmed you?"

"No, it's just… Ron thinks Hermione's cat killed his rat, and it looks like he's right, but she's denying it, and he's mad and… I just want to avoid it tonight and get some sleep. Is that okay?"

"Of course, Harry. Perhaps a mild sleeping potion?"

"Yes, please," Harry answered. It wasn't just for him, really. It was also so that his dad and Tonks could have privacy again. Though a nice, magic-induced sleep sounded pretty relaxing just then. And surely it would all blow over soon. After all, Scabbers was… old, and didn't really do much of anything. Though if it were his pet, Harry knew that age or usefulness wouldn't make any difference to him.

"Oh, and Ron and Neville's wands are missing, and Ron thinks Crookshanks did that too," Harry said, just as he was closing his eyes.

*****Severus*****

Wands missing? It was just like Harry to be overly concerned about the squabbles of his little friends. Severus tried not to personalize the incident, because it didn't improve the situation to picture it from the Weasley boy's perspective. Severus was quite certain that if the same had happened with one of his peers, he would have never spoken to them again. If the owner were one of the right Slytherin classmates, he might never have become a Death Eater. But, in time, he would have forgiven Lily. But in the Granger girl's position, he would do no better.

But really, all of them needed to ignore the teenage hormones and focus on the wand thief.

Severus made quite an impression on the little Gryffindors when he barged through their floo half an hour after Harry had gone to sleep. He had done the curtesy of informing Minerva for his visit, so she was there as well. He had never been to the tower before his son resided in it- though he rather thought there hadn't been as much sinister activity in Gryffindor Tower before then either, not that any of it was Harry's fault.

His spells detected that no one who did not belong had entered the third year boy's Gryffindor dorm, human or house elf in the last week, but with a bit more testing, he could confirm that Miss Granger's cat had visited on multiple occasions.

The few hundred children who were staring at him made the unsuccessful trip with Minerva more interesting. At least he was disrupting their day as one of them was disturbing his.

Severus was faced with the possibility that his most likely suspect might be a cat. A part-kneezle, he was certain, capable of the deed, but not a convincing adversary. Tall enough to open the door if it stood on its back paws… he was truly contemplating theft by feline, and he hoped that it wasn't just because that would make him feel better.

He had questioned each of the third year boys, and used a bit of Legilimency to insure they were telling the truth. He wouldn't take chances with Harry's safety. Did normal lives exist in the wizarding world anymore? Or anywhere? In lieu of normal, Severus would accept life unthreatened by mass murderers and other faceless dangers. If Harry falling in a quidditch match was the most serious of his possible worries, Severus would accept that gladly.

Harry continued to sleep in his room in the dungeons in the next few days, and Severus did not mind. He did idly wonder if the boy's friends were still fighting. Only because it interfered with the relatively stable social environment of his son, of course.

When Severus managed to obtain a boggart, he almost didn't want to tell Harry, as troubled as the boy had been with his friends. But, with Harry there for additional hours, it would be an excellent time for the lesson.

Severus avoided actually making contact with the boggart that Minerva happened to have procured. He spent too much time on introspection to subject himself to more of it of such an unpleasant nature. The Mirror of Erised had been too much honesty for him. Though he was not thrilled with seeing the boy's boggart either, if it were to be a dementor.

But Harry was thrilled with the development, eager to begin right away, standing in front of the empty wardrobe that Severus had the thing trapped in.

"Are you certain you are ready?" Severus asked again.

"Yeah, Dad, just let it out," Harry dismissed.

The moment that Severus opened the doors with Harry standing in front of them, he felt the cold chill begin, the familiar hopelessness. Harry, wand raised, faltered. He took a step back. "Expecto Patronum," the boy yelled, voice cracking. A whisp of smoke no stronger than from Harry's first lesson emitted from his wand. Harry took another step back, backing into their table until abruptly sitting down.

When Severus stepped in front of it, just to banish it back, the thing had other ideas. Harry's lifeless body, laid unmarked on the ground. The work of the killing curse. Or perhaps it was an empty, vegetative body from having his soul sucked out by a dementor.

"Depulso," Severus said aloud, banishing the boggart back into the wardrobe and slamming it close. That was not okay.

Dead child… surely that was a common parental fear? Of course, most fathers hadn't had their son so close to death on multiple occasions. He could reexamine the implications later.

"Are you okay?" Severus asked, turning to Harry, finding the boy standing again, looking embarrassed. The child hadn't actually lost consciousness, but this had been a bad idea. But he also needed Harry to be prepared, after the quidditch incident. But how could a thirteen-year-old realistically be prepared to face dementors?

"Yeah, yeah, I can do it now, I swear," the child promised, looking at the spot where for all appearances, his own dead body had just laid. What would that image do to the child? But instead, Harry looked more determined, like he needed this.

The boggart couldn't suck out his soul, Severus reminded himself.

"Are you certain you want another try today?" Severus asked. The boy didn't have to push himself to try again today- or ever. Even if it was important.

"Yes, please," Harry replied, looking at the wardrobe with determination.

Against his comfort, Severus released the doors again. Severus felt the cold. Harry closed his eyes.

"Expecto Patronum," Harry screamed, and this time, the haze was replaced by a solid looking snake heading towards the boggart. In the commotion, Severus banished the thing back into the wardrobe, cold, hopelessness disappearing as the doors shut.

"Very good," Severus breathed heavily. It was truly remarkable in fact.

"Thanks. It's just- crazy how accurate it feels. I even heard- you know, the voices."

"Voices?" Severus asked carefully. The last time Harry spoke of hearing voices, a near-mythical beast was petrifying students. This was entirely different, of course… he reminded himself repeatedly.

"Well, yeah. When the dementors get close, I can hear the night- that my mum died," he said simply. As if that wasn't one of the most traumatic statements Severus had heard a child ay. Harry heard his mother just before she died?

"You- mentioned a woman's screams on the train, and I- knew you had had dreams of the curse, but there was so much else going on at the time, my concern for your safety paramount."

"It's fine. I can ignore it really. Just- this time I heard James Potter's voice, telling my mum to- to take me and run. It caught me by surprise was all, because I hadn't heard him before. But I did it well the second time, right?" Harry said with a smile.

There it went, the last piece of Severus's hatred for James Potter. How could even years of childhood torment and hatred stay after that? To die saving the son that wasn't his, because of a stupid prophesy that was Severus's fault, and didn't even really fit, because James Potter was not Harry's biological father. But he had been the child's father in every other way, for the time he was alive.

Severus could hate Sirius Black and await the man's death. He could hate Lupin, if he wished, and even dead, pathetic Peter Pettigrew, but no longer could he hate James Potter.

"You did very well, Harry," Severus told his son. "It has been a while since we have used the pensive. Perhaps you might like to see a few memories of your mother before bed?" Severus asked.

"Yeah, that sounds great," Harry agreed.

Maybe somewhere he could find an innocuous memory of James Potter. Their sorting would be suitable. Perhaps something else as well. A quidditch game, even.

*****Harry*****

The dead rat incident didn't blow over as smoothly as Harry had hoped. The next day, Ron had commented loudly to Neville that he had better keep Trevor away from the murdering cat. After that, they just didn't talk. Both of them avoided the Great Hall as much as possible, which Harry would have thought was impossible, since all of their meals were there. Ron's already quick eating had nearly doubled to a speed that made Harry genuinely afraid that his friend would choke.

Hermione said that she didn't know why she was even bothering with Muggle Studies anymore, given the minimal intelligence needed to excel in the class.

Harry spent the next few nights sleeping in the dungeons, and his father was nice enough not to object.

"Hey," Harry called as he was walking to breakfast. Draco was walking that way too, and he seemed to be alone. Draco slowed down as Harry joined him. "Congratulations on being named captain and on your win," Harry said.

"Thank you," Draco said politely, though he frowned for a moment.

"I- hear that you have a new seeker. Or two new seekers," Harry commented. Even is Slytherins didn't seem to gossip with the other houses, a quidditch tryout in the middle of the season wasn't going to stay secret.

Draco sighed, "Higgs didn't listen to me. He wasn't good enough to try to stall against Chang, and I told him so. He wished to upset the power dynamic, and it didn't work," Draco said shortly. Being in Slytherin did seem complicated enough that Harry was very glad he was a Gryffindor. Of course, being respected as a quidditch captain as a third year might be difficult in any house.

"Well, good luck with your new seekers then," Harry said.

"Weasley and Granger still fighting?" Draco asked, surprising Harry.

"Wha- why do you ask?"

"Because you've been sleeping in the dungeon and wandering around alone," Draco said. "And because Weasley wouldn't stop going on about it in Creatures class."

Ron talked to Draco about stuff like that?

"Who do you think is right?" Harry asked, willing to get advice even from someone he wouldn't have expected.

"What is there to being right? It's a cat and a rat. The cat ate the rat."

"But what would you do if it happened with you and one of your friends in Slytherin?" Harry asked.

Draco raised an eyebrow, "I couldn't allow a personal squabble over such a thing interfere with a family alliance. But I don't have friends like Granger."

"What do you mean? Because she's muggleborn?" Harry asked. He didn't think Draco cared about that, but they didn't really talk that much.

"Because Weasley can act without concern of family alliance."

"Because her parents are muggles," Harry repeated.

Draco rolled his eyes, "Not exclusively why, but yes. Though he should consider his personal alliances."

"You mean friendship," Harry smiled.

"Yes," Draco huffed. They were almost at the Great Hall. "And I can't imagine that the witch who wanted to free all the house elves really doesn't care about a dead rat," Draco said, walking away, leaving Harry more to think about.

A/N: Please let me know what you thought!