Chapter 2That Stupid Rat
A/N: All right, here's Chapter 2, although I'm beginning to feel like a failure since I only have 3 reviews so far sobs. I'm doing this just for the hell of it, but I need some encouragement cough cough
Third Year
How could he?
How dare he suggest that my cat had anything to do with the fact that he can't keep tabs on his pet for longer than five minutes at a time? I don't really understand his strange aversion to my cat, but he has to get over it and move on. Besides, wasn't he always complaining about that stupid rat anyway?
That tiny, titchy little thing didn't do a damn thing all day, Ron had absolutely no feeling for it, and only now that he suddenly seems to have died Ron cares?
He's put me through hell, he has, always going on about Scabbers, as if he was always the center of our conversations. Ron's just upset because the only damn thing he can call his own, if he can even call that rat his own, has gone off mysteriously, or may even be dead. But my adorable Crookshanks really hasn't got anything to do with it, I'm sure of it! All he does is act like a cat! It's perfectly normal for a cat to chase after a rat, but according to Ron, it must be because he has some sort of vindictive passion to kill a rat that hasn't done anything to offend him at all—and of course, Ron's logic is always entirely plausible, isn't it!
Again, let me start from the beginning.
At the end of August, I left my parents' house for Ron's, because it was almost time for school, and I wanted to enjoy some time with my friends before we left for school, and of course it would be much easier to get all my books for my new courses, and to get to the train if I stayed with the Weasleys. I had my early birthday money, and I was so excited to see Ron and Harry again after my vacation in France. Plus, I wanted to hear all about Ron's trip to Egypt, which I would have loved to go to because of all the fantastic ancient pyramids and sites there.
When I got to Ron's house, we spent all our time together, having fun going off into the village or just eating his mum's fabulous food, or hanging out in his room for a while. I've always thoroughly enjoyed going to Ron's house, although it is a bit loud and crowded for my taste, but that's how it's always been in the Burrow, and it's sort of grown on me.
Then I heard about what Harry got up to over the summer. Oh, how does he manage to do these things? He shouldn't be allowed to live without one of us constantly watching over him. Blowing up his aunt!! What was he thinking!? I can't believe that we leave him alone for two months and he manages to do more underage magic! Okay, I'll give it to him; he really isn't to blame for that first time. But still, it's like he needs to have someone around all the time to keep him in check! He's thirteen years old; can't he take some responsibility for his actions?
And then I heard about his encounter with Fudge. Thank God he wasn't expelled, but still, that kind of leniency can only be allowed to Harry Potter. I bet Ron inwardly stewed over that one, because he's always been kind of jealous about Harry's fame and the fact that pretty much everything slides when it comes to him.
By then I was living with one foot out the door, anxious to see Harry and to know how he was holding up, until finally we got to Diagon Alley during one of the last days of our holiday. We were in Diagon Alley; we had met up with Harry and had spent the day getting the rest of our supplies for term, although really I was just enjoying the ice cream Harry had treated me to, as I had already purchased all my needed apparel for the term.
By the end of the day, we were all laden with packages, and I with some leftover birthday money, and I was itching to spend it. And thinking back, I was always jealous that Harry and Ron had pets, companions of sorts. I realized that there was always a void there, that when I was feeling lonely or sad, I wished I had a silent comforter there to help me through it. So I decided to buy a pet. It was a sort of drastic move on my part, as I always think about an issue for days before deciding on a course of action. Although I did give this pet thing a bit of thought, there wasn't as much mulling over involved in making this decision as I was used to, so it was almost blatantly spontaneous for me.
Harry suggested that we go to the Magical Menagerie to look for an owl, as an owl was always the pet I envisioned who would give me some companionship, just like Hedwig always did for Harry. We got there, and I was blown away at the large range of pets there were: exotic animals, magical animals, wild animals, or just regular, domesticated animals that would not have looked out of place at a normal Muggle pet shop.
As Ron was asking the lady behind the counter about a tonic for Scabbers, this large, ginger cat came from out of nowhere and flew at Ron's head. As soon as I was sure that the cat had not decapitated my poor, irritable friend, I immediately started bursting with giggles. I couldn't stop laughing at the furious expression on Ron's face, or his and the cat's wild chase of Scabbers. It was madness, the cat chasing after the poor, frightened, scurrying rat, and Ron pursuing the cat with a murderous glint in his eye. Then I instantly wanted to shout at Ron for scaring that poor cat out of its wits. I was having very conflicting emotions at the time, and I want to laugh out loud just thinking about it now, but that would hardly be appropriate under the present circumstances (I'll explain later).
Soon Ron found Scabbers, quaking in fear, and he promptly left the shop with a lump-shaped rat in his pocket. He was so angry that he forgot his rat tonic on the counter of the shop. I took a long, hard look at the cat that had attacked Ron, and I realized that he was cute. His face was a bit squashed, but that just added to his general cuteness. He had bottlebrush tail and was ginger all over. I guess the reason I was really drawn to him was that he almost reminded me of Ron in a funny way. I guess mostly it was the color, but it was also the air of being kind of grouchy, yet content in a way. Being satisfied that he had caused a bit of mayhem, glad to know he had caught my attention. So I thought, what the hell, I might as well be a little more original than just settling for an owl. This way, Ron had a rat, Harry had an owl, and I had a cat.
I bought him, and I took him outside with Ron's rat tonic. I think seeing Ron's face when he saw me with Crookshanks was almost worth all the grief I got later because of him. I was just reminded so much of Ron's expression when my cat had jumped on his head, and that was one of my funniest memories.
I soon found out that Ron's hatred of my cat went far beyond the grudge of their first encounter. It was all about Scabbers now, all about how just because my cat was following his natural instinct, all of a sudden he was a murderous, good for nothing pest. I never believed that Crookshanks had killed that stupid rat. And I was right wasn't I? Scabbers just ran away again. He was never dead. But Ron couldn't just accept that his rat had done a bunk on him. He had to jump to the worst possible conclusion: that Scabbers had been brutally murdered, and that my cat was responsible.
He didn't talk to me for weeks, the stupid git, over a freaking rat! He had to pick a rat that he didn't even particularly care for over his friend, someone he's supposed to trust. He had to have this freaky grudge on my cat. What kind of idiot gets into it with a cat?! I think that was a new low for him.
And then, after a while, I didn't try anymore. Everything I did just seemed to make him hate me more. I was just looking out for Harry when I told Professor McGonagall about Harry's Firebolt. I only did it because I was genuinely concerned for his safety. How could he be sure that it wasn't some "gift" from Sirius Black, a cursed broom, something that could only kill him too easily. But no, I was the bad guy for caring about my friend.
And I was only trying to calm Lavender down about her little bunny that was killed, I wasn't trying to give off the vibe that I didn't care about her pet or her feelings, but of course Ron had to bite my head off about not taking anyone else's pets into consideration. God, it was like I couldn't talk without insulting someone and undermining their feelings for their pets. And since when did pets become so important?!
Next came the trouble of Hagrid and his pet. Buckbeak was being sentenced to death, and I single-handedly tried to come up with a good case for him. Ron and Harry didn't give a shit about Buckbeak anymore, which just shows how much compassion they really had for animals. What an ironic twist that was: There I was, a completely selfish and non-caring person, according to Ron, trying to help save a hippogriff's life! And what were they doing, the kind, compassionate ones of the bunch? Sitting around on their lazy arses all day, complaining about not having a possibly cursed broom to entertain themselves with! That just shows how much they cared!
Well, Buckbeak lost his "trial", and the idiots came to their senses and began to help me prepare material for the appeal. Thank God for that! I don't know how much more I could have taken of sitting in Hagrid's hut while he sobbed in my ear for hours while at the same time attempting to concentrate on helping him. I'm definitely glad they came around and decided to help me.
The appeal, as we suspected it would, crashed and burned to the ground. Buckbeak was going to be executed, and there was nothing we could do about it. On the day of, we went down to Hagrid's hut, because we really wanted to be there during his time of need, to be able to comfort him. And you wouldn't believe who turned up there! You guessed it—that stupid, stinking rat!! I told him. That's all I can say. I. Told. Him. He didn't believe me, did he? He didn't care about my feelings at all, did he? He didn't care that he was causing me so much pain by simply ignoring me or making jibes about my supposed inability to feel compassion for anyone but myself and my cat, did he? All because of a stupid rat who WASN'T EVEN DEAD!!
Although, as I stand here now, hundreds of feet away from Hagrid's house, and I know what is about to happen there, I know it really isn't about the pets. And I realize that however much anger and pain he had caused me to feel, I can't stay angry at him. Because I need him right now, at the time when I feel helpless and like a complete failure, having had all of my efforts gone to waste. He is the light shining at the end of this very long, metaphoric tunnel that I am walking through. I know that he'll always be there to comfort me when I'm going through times like this, when I don't know what exactly to do with myself, because all the happiness has left me, as if a Dementor has just entered the room. I need him to be there, to always be there to rescue me, because I know that he can, and that he will.
A/N: I had a lot more fun with this one, because I really enjoy ranting, and we all know that Hermione is always one to supply a good rant. I hope this chapter was better than the first and that they continue to get better. Next up is 4th year!