Chapter Thirty-Eight: Smelling a Rat

Daphne was getting a bit desperate. Harry and Ron were still at odds with Hermione, and acting as the go-between for them was beginning to get on her nerves.

The trouble was that in the Firebolt case, she sided with Hermione. Not because she necessarily thought it came from Sirius Black, but because it had been sent anonymously. A gift that expensive had to be mistrusted as long as it wasn't sure who sent it. It was the sort of Noble House paranoia she'd grown up with.

On the Scabbers-Crookshanks front, though, she was firmly on Ron's side. Yeah, Scabbers was old and had already been sick since Egypt, but that wasn't an open invite for any cat to just eat him. Hermione could at least keep Crookshanks away from the boys' dorm, but she didn't even make an effort.

With Hermione stressed about all her classes, and Harry stressed for the next Quidditch game, for which he currently had no broom, as well as his anti-Dementor classes with Lupin, and Ron stressed about the fact his pet might get eaten at any moment, none of them were in a particularly reasonable mood to resolve the problem by talking about it like rational…teenagers. It was clear that Daphne would need something else to solve the problem, but what?

About a week after the Slytherin versus Ravenclaw game, Daphne, Harry, Hermione, and Ron were making their way over to Hagrid's hut for a Care of Magical Creatures class. It was a clear, crisp day, with almost no wind.

"Ah, good, yeh're all here. C'mon, I've got a fun lesson fer yeh today," Hagrid said once everyone had arrived.

He led them behind his hut, where he'd set up a small enclosure. In the enclosure were several cat-like creatures, with large ears and tufted tails, like those of lions. They seemed very interested in the approaching people, and sat in front of the wooden fence — which Daphne thought they could easily jump over — to stare at the students. Ron's expression darkened.

"Now, does anyone know what these creatures are?" Hagrid asked.

As expected, Hermione instantly raised her hand. "They're Kneazles," she said.

Hagrid grinned at her. "Tha's right. Kneazles are pretty interestin' creatures. They're smart, fierce and make very good guardians fer yer house. Thing is, they're very independent an' won' jus' listen ter anybody. Today, yeh're gonna see how yeh get on with them. Write down the way they act aroun' yeh.

"Now, Kneazles are very good at spottin' untrustworthy folks. If they don' seem ter wanna approach yeh, it could be because they think yeh're not trustworthy, but that doesn' mean yeh're a bad person. It could jus' be yeh borrowed a quill and haven' given it back yet or summat. If the Kneazle arches his back and starts hissin', just keep yer distance. These ones are trained not ter attack, but if yeh provoke 'em, they probably will."

Hagrid divided them all into pairs and assigned them to a Kneazle. Daphne worked with Hermione, and were assigned to a pale, sandy Kneazle with piercing green eyes, which Hagrid said was called Sandstorm.

Sandstorm regarded Daphne and Hermione, who both sat squatted down, from a distance, and then cautiously approached them.

"Hey, Sandstorm," Daphne said softly. "Do you think we look trustworthy?"

Sandstorm sniffed Daphne's hand, but kept her eyes on Daphne's the entire time. Then she looked at Hermione, who smiled and reached out with her hand. Sandstorm allowed herself to be petted and purred contentedly.

"Hey, isn't Crookshanks part-Kneazle, too?" Daphne asked.

She was now slowly stroking Sandstorm's back, who was looking like a very happy, very large cat.

Hermione nodded. "Yeah, that's what the lady in the store said, wasn't it?"

Daphne glanced over her shoulder at Harry and Ron, who were working with a dark gray Kneazle with shaggy fur called Graystripe. Graystripe seemed perfectly happy around both of them.

Further back, Malfoy and Pansy were working with a Kneazle called Tigerclaw. He seemed to be okay with Pansy, but he clearly didn't like Malfoy much, snarling whenever Malfoy attempted to get close.

Scourge, the Kneazle assigned to Crabbe and Goyle, was hissing and spitting at both of them.

As far as Daphne could tell, the Kneazles did seem to be fairly accurate in their assessment of the people in the class.

"Do you think that maybe Crookshanks thinks Scabbers isn't a normal rat?" Daphne asked.

Hermione frowned. "Daphne, if this is an attempt to–"

"No, I'm serious," Daphne interrupted. "If Kneazles can detect untrustworthy people, who says they can't detect untrustworthy animals?"

"How can a rat be untrustworthy?" Hermione asked. She frowned. "Well, in common parlance…but you know what I mean," she added.

Daphne giggled, but then went serious again. "For one thing, by being very old. You heard what the witch in the store said. A common rat would live for maybe three years, and Scabbers used to belong to Percy. He's been with them for ages."

Hermione looked troubled, still absentmindedly stroking Sandstorm. "But how would we find out?" she asked.

Daphne thought for a moment, then looked at Sandstorm. "Hagrid's got all of them here. What if we bring Scabbers to them? If all of them instantly go for him…"

"They're still cats," Hermione said. "What would it prove?"

Daphne shrugged. "There are plenty of people who have regular cats in the castle. If they don't go after Scabbers the moment they see him, but every Kneazle or part-Kneazle does…"

Hermione scoffed. "Do you think Ron would believe it?"

"No, but Harry will," Daphne said. "And Harry might be able to convince Ron. Give me a moment. I'm going to talk to Hagrid."

Daphne stood up and walked over to Hagrid, who was observing the class from a distance.

"Doin' well with Sandstorm, I see," Hagrid said when Daphne stood next to him.

"She's a sweetheart," Daphne agreed. "I wanted to ask you something. Can a Kneazle detect an untrustworthy animal as well as a human?"

Hagrid thought for a moment. "I s'pose they can," he said. "Animals have their own personalities too, don' they? Jus' look at Hedwig, fer one. Fiercely loyal ter Harry, that owl, an' smart, too. No reason a Kneazle couldn' detect a shifty animal. Why?"

Daphne told Hagrid about Scabbers and Crookshanks.

"Well, fer a part-Kneazle it is a bit weird ter focus on one animal so much…if yeh can get Ron ter agree, bring Scabbers here. I'll keep this lot caged fer it so he won' have ter worry."

"Do you have any regular rats?" Daphne asked. "If they don't seem interested in them at all we'll have a better chance of getting Ron to believe us."

Hagrid nodded thoughtfully. "There're plenty of 'em around here. I'll catch a few," he said.

Daphne smiled. "Thanks, Hagrid. Think we can stop by before dinner?"

Hagrid agreed, and when they walked back to the castle after class Daphne said, "So, Ron, what'd you think of the lesson?"

He gave her a confused look. "It was fine, why?"

"Anything that stood out to you about Hagrid's explanation?"

"Er, no, not really. What're you on about, Daphne?" Ron asked, with a glance at Harry, who shrugged.

"Well…" Daphne explained her theory about Scabbers.

As expected, Ron did not take it particularly well. "That cat is just a complete menace! There's nothing wrong with Scabbers, he's never hurt anyone!"

Harry, though, seemed to be considering the possibility. "You said yourself Crookshanks had it in for Scabbers, though. If he is part-Kneazle…"

"You're siding with that cat, now?" Ron said disbelievingly.

"I'm not siding with anyone yet. But I'm pretty sure Daphne wouldn't have brought this up if she didn't have some kind of plan to test it."

He looked at Daphne expectantly, and Daphne explained what she had come up with.

Ron didn't like it one bit, but surprisingly agreed to the plan. "Okay, fine. I'll bring Scabbers with me to Hagrid's place. If his Kneazles don't respond to the rats Hagrid has caught but all focus on Scabbers instead, I'll admit it's suspicious. But if even one of them goes for the regular rats, or they ignore Scabbers, too, then you all need to admit that Crookshanks is mad and hates Scabbers for no reason."

Daphne nodded happily. "Fine with me," she said.

Later, before dinner, they went back to Hagrid's cabin. Ron was carrying Scabbers in his pocket. They'd all been careful not to mention the plan around Scabbers; if there really was something fishy about him, they didn't want him to try and escape beforehand.

They arrived at Hagrid's hut.

"Good, yeh're here," he said. "They're 'round back. Hold on, lemme get the other rats…"

He went inside and brought out a cage with three rats. The rats seemed frightened. They could probably smell the predators. Scabbers, in Ron's pocket, seemed to tremble as well.

"Okay…" Hagrid said just before they rounded the corner. "I think it's easiest if Harry, Hermione, Daphne an' me go aroun' firs', ter show these rats ter the Kneazles–"

At the mention of the word 'Kneazles', Scabbers frantically began to try and get out of Ron's pocket.

"Scabbers! Stop squirming, you idiot, I'm trying to prove you're innocent, here," Ron said.

Hagrid frowned. "Ron, yeh go first," he said.

Ron scowled, but tried to hold onto to the squirming Scabbers as he stepped around the corner–

All the Kneazles went wild in their cages. They hissed, spat, and tried to get through the bars to get to Scabbers, who became even more frantic, tearing himself free from Ron's grip and dashing away over the lawn in the gloom.

Ron took a few steps after him, but Scabbers had already vanished. Ron turned around angrily.

"You'd better hope that those cats don't respond that way to the normal rats," he said.

"They won', Ron. That reaction wasn' normal. There's somethin' about that rat o' yours. Here…"

Hagrid held out the caged rats to the Kneazles. The rats backed away in their cage, but the Kneazles only stared at them with passing interest. Some looked a bit hungry at the sight of the rats, but they didn't scramble over one another to attack them.

Ron stared disbelievingly from the Kneazles back to the lawn Scabbers had sprinted away over.

"I don't get it," he said. "How can Scabbers be anything bad? He's never done anything but eat and sleep. What's so wrong about that?"

"I don' know," Hagrid said. "But this many Kneazles gettin' this aggressive at the sight o' him…that ain't a good rat."

Though Ron remained confused over what could possibly be wrong with Scabbers, he did seem to accept that something wasn't right, and he grudgingly told Hermione that Crookshanks might not be a horrible monster.

In return, Hermione had broken down and told Harry and Ron she was sorry about the Firebolt, but she wanted to make sure nothing bad would happen to Harry, and both Harry and Ron promised her they didn't hold it against her, though probably mostly because they had no idea how else to console Hermione.

At least they were talking to each other again, and when Harry got his Firebolt back a few weeks later, the air had truly been cleared.

And that was good, because Harry's next Quidditch match was coming up, and he needed to get back into practice.

On his first training with the Firebolt, both Ron and Ginny had gone with him, just so they could try it out for themselves afterwards, and when they returned to the castle late in the evening, Daphne could see that they were all incredibly excited.

She'd been meaning to ask them how the training went, but the three of them were so engaged in their conversation that she decided against it. She was happy to see that, after the previous Quidditch game, Ginny and Harry were now perfectly capable of talking to each other, but when she turned around and went down to the common room, she felt a bit left out.

The next day was the day of the match and Daphne was curious to see how Harry would fly now that he had a Firebolt.

As it turned out, very well. From the start of the match, it was clear just how much better the Firebolt was than all the other brooms in the air, and Harry was clearly showing that he knew how to control it.

Though Chang, the Ravenclaw Seeker, was trying to frustrate Harry by marking him and interfering with his actions, it was clear that the only reason she was able to interfere with Harry was because he was too nice to really fight back.

Then, he went into a steep dive, and Daphne tried to spot the Snitch, but Ginny said, "It's a feint, he's baiting Chang."

If he was, then it was working. Chang dived after Harry, trying to catch up, but Harry pulled up extremely sharply, something Chang simply couldn't match on her weaker broom, and Harry accelerated towards the Ravenclaw end of the field. The Firebolt was stunningly fast…

Chang seemed to spot something on the field and shouted.

Daphne looked, and she saw three hooded figures…but she felt nothing. There was no way they could be real Dementors, then…so what were they?

Harry, responding to Chang's shout, pulled out his wand and shot a massive, silver thing towards the supposed Dementors, then raced after the Snitch and caught it.

Daphne didn't care, though, she was laughing much too hard. Whatever Harry had done, it had been unnecessary. Flint, Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle had been knocked over by Harry's spell, and now lay in a crumpled heap on the ground. McGonagall was already heading down toward them, looking absolutely furious.

Harry and his Firebolt were Gryffindor's biggest heroes, not just for catching the Snitch but also for getting Malfoy in trouble.

Daphne briefly joined them in the Gryffindor common room for the party, but had to go back to her own common room in time to avoid being caught in the hallways after hours.

Again, she somehow felt a bit left out. Why was she feeling so gloomy lately? Did it have something to do with the Dementors all around the school?

She wasn't in the same House as her friends, so of course she wouldn't be able to attend every party they threw in their common room, especially since parties in the Gryffindor common room were apparently fairly normal anyway.

It couldn't be because of her friends, either, because they were all, well, friends again.

And yet, something felt wrong.

Yeah, the climax of year three is going to be a bit different from canon, yet it will still be similar. At the same time, I'm turning up the teen angst. Don't worry too much about it; I don't intend to let it take over the rest of the story.

The names of the Kneazles, by the way, are all from Warriors (or Warrior Cats, depending on which name you know for the series).