-Doublesims
Chapter Sixteen: Sabbers vs. Crookshanks
Over time Defence Against the Dark Arts had become most people's favourite class. Only Draco Malfoy and his gang of Slytherins had anything bad to say about Professor Lupin.
"Look at the state of his robes," Malfoy would say in a loud whisper as Professor Lupin passed. "He dresses like our old house-elf."
But no one else cared that Professor Lupin's robes were patched and frayed. His next few lessons were just as interesting as the first. After, Boggarts, they studied Red Caps, nasty little bloodshed, in the dungeons of castles and the potholes of deserted battlefields, waiting to bludgeon those who got lost. From Red Caps they moved to Kappas, creepy water-dwellers that looked like scaly monkeys, with webbed hands itching to strangle unwitting waders in their ponds.
Jack was regularly seen in the Hufflepuff Basement. Doing homework, talking to one of his brothers, he was even caught sleeping in the rafters in the ceiling of the basement or in an armchair more than once. Jack was awarded a hundred points to Gryffindor for the first non-Hufflepuff in hundred years to get past Helga Hufflepuff's enchantment to the Hufflepuff Common Room.
North's history lessons had also become a quick favourite, bring the wonder back in to history and how to learn. Ana's class had also become a favourite for the ones who went to the Muggle Studies class. Classes was even more enjoyable when Jack, Aster or Sandy where in any class. The first two years from almost any house loved when Sandy played charades with them or when Jack played around with them.
But not everything was enjoyable. Potions were the worst. Snape was in a particularly vindictive mood these days, and no one was in any doubt why. The story of the Boggart assuming Snape's shape, and the way that Neville had dressed it in his grandmother's clothes had travelled through the school like wildfire. Snape didn't seem to find it funny. His eye flashed menacingly at the very mention of Professor Lupin's name, and was bullying Neville worse than ever. Jack with the help from the twins also Aster and Sandy pulled a few pranks of Snape for bulling Neville. So Snape could never find out how was pulling the pranks.
There were a few people but manly, Hermione and Harry that didn't like their time in Professor Trelawney's class and her stifling tower room. Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown had taken to haunting Professor Trelawney's tower room at lunchtimes, and always returned with annoyingly superior looks on their faces, as though they knew things others didn't. They had also started using hushed voices whenever they spoke to Harry and sometimes Jack or Aster, as though they were on their deathbed. Well until Jack and Aster snapped saying they lost their first family they don't need people thinking they were about to lose their new one.
Nobody really liked Care of Magical Creatures, which, after the action-packed first class, had become extremely dull. Hagrid seemed to have lost his confidence. They were now spending lesson after lesson after lesson learning how to look after Flobberworms, which had to be some of the most boring creatures in existence.
"Why would anyone bother looking after them." asked Ron, after yet another hour of poking shredded lettuce down the Flobberworms' slimy throats. He found himself slipping over after that remark –curtsy of Jack –but what others didn't know Jack was his history and that he was helping Hagrid with the Hippogriffs after school and his free time when he wasn't planning a prank or with one his family members.
At the start of October, however the whole castle looked up to something enjoyable. The Quidditch season was approaching. Oliver called a meeting one Thursday evening to discuss tactics for the new season and to introduce Jack to the team as the new Chaser after Kate asked to be a substitute so she could work on her school work and her hobby though the year equally.
Oliver Wood was a burly seventeen-year-old, now in his seventh year and final year at Hogwarts. There was a quiet sort of desperation in his voice as he addressed his seven fellow team members in the chilly changing room on the edge of the darkening Quidditch pitch.
"This is our last chance –my last chance –to win the Quidditch Cup," he told them, striding up and down in front of them. "I'll be leaving at the end of this year. I'll never get another shot at it.
"Gryffindor haven't won for seven years now. OK, so we've had the worst luck in the world –injuries –then the tournament getting called off last year…" Wood swallowed, as though the memory still brought a lump to his throat. "But we also know we've got the best-ruddy-team-in-the-school," he said, punching a fist into his other hand, the old manic glint back in his eye.
"We've got now four superb Chasers. One which was able to keep the Quaffle away from the Hufflepuff team for almost two hours." Wood pointed at Alicia Spinnet, Angelina Johnson, Katie Bell and Jack Frost. Jack gave a smile as the others who wasn't there look at him with disbelief.
"We've got two unbeatable Beaters."
"Stop it, Oliver, you're embarrassing us," said Fred and George Weasley together, pretending to blush.
"And we've got a Seeker who has never failed to win us a match!" Wood rumbled, glaring at Harry Potter with a kind of furious pride. "And me." He added, as an afterthought.
"We think you're very good, too, Oliver." said George.
"Cracking Keeper!" said Fred.
"The point is," Wood went on, resuming his pacing, "the Quidditch Cup should have had our name on it these last two years. Ever since Harry joined the team, I've thought the thing was in the bag. But we haven't got it, and this year's the last chance we'll get to finally see our name on the thing…"
Wood spoke so dejectedly that even Fred, George and Jack looked sympathetic.
"Oliver, this year's is our year," said Fred.
"We'll do it, Oliver!" said Angelina.
"Definitely," said Harry.
"Absolutely! We just have to believe!" said Jack.
Full of determination, the team started training sessions, three evenings a week. The weather was getting colder and wetter, the nights darker, but no amount of mud, wind or rain could tarnish Harry's and Oliver's wonderful vision of finally winning the huge silver Quidditch Cup, or the fun that Jack was having playing the game.
Harry and Jack returned to the Gryffindor common room one evening after training, Harry was cold and both were sore and stiff but pleased with the way practice had gone, to find the room buzzing excitedly.
"What's happened?" asked Harry when they reached Ron and Hermione, who were sitting in two of the best arm chairs by the fireside and completing some star charts for Astronomy. Jack had become friends with the Golden Three but he still wasn't close to them as he was with the Weasly Twins.
"First Hogsmeade weekend," said Ron, pointing at the notice that had appeared on the battered old notice-board. "End of October. Hallowe'en."
"Excellent," said Fred, who had followed Harry and Jack though the portrait hole. "I need to visit Zonko's, I'm nearly out of Stink Pellets."
Jack laughed "What don't know how to make your own? I do!"
"Well you should you and your brothers keep saying you're the Prince of Mischief" Said Fred mucking up Jack's hair more so, before following his brother to the dormitories.
Harry threw himself into a chair beside Ron, his high spirits ebbing away. Jack had found out that Sirius Black is supposably after Harry and he didn't get his permission slip singed by his Uncle. He sat down beside Hermione on the floor using the armrest of her chair as a backrest. Getting out the only homework he hadn't got around to doing Herbology, he wanted to do with Aster but he thought he should be with his new friends.
Hermione seemed to read Harry's mind. "Harry, I'm sure you'll be able to go next time," she said. "They're bound to catch Black soon, he's been sighted once already."
"Black's not a fool enough to try anything in Hogsmeade," said Ron. "Ask McGonagall if you can go this time, Harry, the next one might not be for ages –"
"Ron!" said Hermione. "Harry's supposed to stay at school –"
"He can't be the only third-year left behind," said Ron. "Ask McGonagall, go on Harry –"
"Yeah, I think I will," said Harry, making up his mind.
Hermione opened her mouth to argue, but at that moment Crookshanks leapt lightly onto her lap. A large, dead spider was dangling from his mouth.
"Does he have to eat that in front of us?" said Ron, scowling.
"Cleaver Crookshanks, did you catch that all by yourself?" said Hermione, as Jack reached up to pat Crookshanks' head.
"Still afraid of spiders, Ron?" asked Jack cheekily.
"You still scared of giant rabbits?" was Ron's comeback.
"I'll not afraid of him, I was afraid of what he was going to say!" Jack said looking at Ron dead on in the eye his voice deadly low.
"You call the Boggart 'Bunny', and that's why you call Aster; Bunny isn't it? He's an Animagi and that was his other form, wasn't it?" asked Hermione.
Jack looked up at Hermione "Your too smart for your own good, you know that" he asked and nodded "Yer that was Bunny, or Cottontail in that form." He gave a small laugh "A real life Easter Bunny"
Hermione gave a laugh as well. "I wish I had the Easter Bunny as my older brother."
"I've got the Sandman as an older brother as well." said Jack with a smile.
"What?" asked Harry and Hermione as the same time.
"Sandy, he talks with sand, so we call him the Sandman. We all have Legend nick names; Easter Bunny, The Sandman, Jack Frost, and St Nickolas or Santa Claus" Jack smiled, "And of course Toothiana gets called The Tooth Fairy."
"What?" asked Ron totally confused.
"Muggle Legends Ron." said Hermione.
"Fine, just keep that cat over there, all right" Ron said changing the topic from something he knew nothing about, turning back to his star chart. "I've got Scabbers asleep in my bag."
Jack made a face, he never liked Ron's rat it gave off an odd vibe. Harry yawned. He really wanted to go to bed, but he still had his own stair chart to complete. He pulled his bag towards him, took out parchment, ink and a quill, and started work.
"You can copy mine, if you like," said Ron, labelling his last star with a flourish and shoving the chart towards Harry.
Jack rolled his eyes there were a few stars that were marked wrong but he didn't say anything. He knew the two boys had to learn themselves and not be told was the best way. Hermione, who disapproved of copying, pursed her lips, but didn't say anything. Crookshanks was still staring unblinkingly at Ron, flicking the end of his bushy tail. Then, without warning, he pounced.
"OY!" Ron roared, seizing his bag, as Crookshanks sank four sets of claws deeply into it, and began tearing ferociously. "GET OFF, YOU STUPID ANIMAL!"
Ron tried to pull the bag away from Crookshanks, but Crookshanks clung on, spitting and slashing.
"Ron, don't hurt him!" squealed Hermione. The whole common room was watching, Jack's instinct had taken over and he had called the wind take him to the ceiling, watching out of the way above every one, away from trouble; Ron whirled the bag around, Crookshanks still clinging to it, and Scabbers came flying out of the top –
"CATCH THAT CAT!" Ron yelled, as Crookshanks freed himself from the remnants of the bag, sprang over the table and chased after the terrified Scabbers.
George Weasly –who had just come back down from the dormitories –made a lunge for Crookshanks but missed; Scabbers streaked through twenty pairs of legs and shot beneath an old chest of drawers. Crookshanks skidded to a halt, crouched low on his bandy legs and started making furious swipes beneath the chest of drawers with his front paw.
Ron and Hermione hurried over; Hermione hurried over; Hermione grabbed Crookshanks around the middle and heaved him away; Ron threw himself onto his stomach and, with great difficulty, pulled Scabbers out by the tail.
"Look at him!" he said furiously to Hermione, dangling Scabbers in front of her. "He's all skin and bone! You keep that cat away from him!"
"Crookshanks doesn't understand it's wrong!" said Hermione, her voice shacking. "All cats chase rats, Ron!"
"There's something funny about that animal!" said Ron, who was trying to persuade a frantically wiggling Scabbers back into his pocket. "It heard me say Scabbers was in my bag!"
"Oh what rubbish," said Hermione impatiently. "Crookshanks could smell him, Ron, how else d' you think –"
"That cat's got it in for Scabbers!" said Ron, ignoring the people around him, who were starting to giggle. Jack had come back down from the ceiling and was thinking about the information he was listening to. "And Scabbers was here first, and he's ill!"
Ron marched through the common room and out of sight up the stairs to the boys' dormitories.
"Hey, George?" Jack asked the Twin he was next to. "How long has Ron had Scabbers?"
"Wh... Oh um. Ron has had Scabbers since he stated first year."
"So almost three years, so it's expected for it to be on its last legs." Jack said absently minded.
"Yer, but he uses to belong to Percy, and he had him for about two years beforehand."
"Five years! That's not normal. Hmm… maybe…" Jack walked back to his homework, packing it back in his book bag. "I need to go see my brothers, I'll see ya later?"
"Um yer… see ya latter," said George watching Jack leave though the portrait hole.
"What was that all about?" Fred asked his twin.
"I don't know, but it was weird, he wanted to know how long Ron has had Scabbers."
"Now why would he want to know that?"
George shrugged. "I don't know."