Chapter 27 – Unforgettable Birthday

The pallor of dawn had barely spread through the enchanted ceiling, casting soft grey light onto the walls of Daphne's room. The delicate silks of her canopy bed rustled as she shifted, her blue eyes reluctantly prying themselves open. With a soft sigh, she sat up, tucking a loose strand of blonde hair behind her ear. Rigel lay curled at her side. He was the epitome of feline indolence, making it clear with a low, rumbling grumble that he was not interested in the day's early beginnings.

"Oh, come on, Rigel," Daphne whispered, her voice still thick with sleep. "Today's an important day."

Rigel only yawned, stretching languidly but making no move to get up. Daphne shook her head, suppressing a smile. She slipped out of bed, her feet landing softly on the plush carpet. She went through her morning rituals—brushing her teeth, washing her face, dressing in her Slytherin robes—all the while casting quick glances at the still-sleeping Rigel. Finally, she walked over to him, lifting him up in her arms.

"Okay, lazy bones, let's go," she cooed. Rigel meowed softly, his body limp in her arms as if reluctantly acquiescing.

Daphne exited her room, holding Rigel close to her chest, and made her way down the corridor. The castle was eerily quiet, a hauntingly serene world only disturbed by the sound of her own footsteps echoing lightly on the stone floor. She reached the door to her sister's room and knocked softly, yet firmly. She hoped Astoria would forgive her for the early intrusion.

"Who is it?" came a groggy voice from behind the door, tinged with annoyance.

"It's me, Daphne."

There was a momentary silence, followed by the sounds of shuffling feet and sheets being tossed aside. The door creaked open, revealing Astoria, her brown hair a tangled mess and her blue eyes squinting against the dim light.

"Daphne? What's going on?" Astoria mumbled, stepping aside to let her sister in. Her eyes flicked briefly to Rigel, who was gazing at her with a combination of curiosity and annoyance, his eyes slightly narrowed as if finding it difficult to stay open. It was clear he found the early hour rather disagreeable.

"We need to talk," Daphne said softly as she entered the room, her eyes meeting her sister's with a mix of urgency and affection. "It's important."

Astoria closed the door behind her, now fully awake, her eyes searching Daphne's face for clues. The room, filled with the ambient light of dawn, seemed to hold its breath, waiting for the secrets that would soon be unfurled.

Daphne gently placed Rigel onto Astoria's cluttered desk, where the cat perched among towers of textbooks and parchments. He flexed his paws and stretched his feline back, finally curling his tail neatly around his body. His captivating blue eyes, deep wells of unspoken knowledge, surveyed the room.

"Tori, remember the promise I made before the holidays? About revealing all my secrets after we got back to Hogwarts?" Daphne's voice was tinged with a seriousness that belied the early morning hour.

Astoria cast a bleary-eyed glance at her clock and sighed. "Couldn't this have waited until after classes? Some of us need our beauty sleep, you know."

Daphne chuckled softly, locking eyes with her sister. "You're already beautiful, Tori. But some conversations are just too important to put off."

Intrigued despite herself, Astoria sat up straighter. "Alright, spill it. What's so important?"

Daphne took a deep breath, gathering her thoughts before she let the words tumble out. "Astoria, listen closely. Jingles isn't just a magical cat. He's a human—or was. He's been trapped in the body of the Potter housecat since Halloween of 1981. He got caught in the crossfire of the Killing Curse along with the cat. And that human is Rigel Black, Sirius Black's son."

Astoria's eyes widened, the sleepy fog in them scattering as if dispelled by a gust of wind. Her mouth opened, but for a moment, no words came. Finally, she stammered, "You're saying Jingles is actually Rigel Black, as in the son of Sirius Black? Trapped in a cat's body since he was a toddler?"

Daphne nodded, her eyes earnest. "Yes, exactly that."

Astoria shook her head, incredulity flashing in her eyes. "This is... how do you even know all of this, Daph? It sounds utterly bizarre."

Taking another deep breath, Daphne delved into the complexities of their unique connection. "Rigel and I share a bond. It's a link between our minds that neither of us can fully explain. Through this bond, we can share thoughts, memories, even emotions. It's how we communicate. Over the past months, using this bond and with the help of our friends, we've been piecing together the puzzle of his past. And everything points to him being Rigel Sirius Black."

Daphne looked at her sister, hoping she'd understand the magnitude of what she was sharing.

Astoria's eyes widened, a cascade of understanding flooding her gaze as she absorbed the words Daphne had shared. "I see," she finally said, her voice tinged with awe. "That's an incredible story, Daph. But what does all this have to do with you asking me to cover for you before the holidays?"

Daphne shifted her weight, her eyes briefly darting to the floor before meeting Astoria's gaze once more. "I had a meeting with Madam Black on Christmas Day, a meeting that our parents can never find out about. In that meeting, she confirmed Rigel's identity, corroborating everything we've uncovered. More importantly, she has a plan to restore Rigel's human form."

A soft light of realisation broke through Astoria's features, banishing any remnants of sleepiness or confusion. "Ah, so that's where I come in. You needed me to be your alibi, to make our parents think you were staying at Hogwarts over the holidays."

Daphne nodded, her eyes meeting Astoria's with a mixture of relief and gratitude. "Yes, Tori, you've got it. Your help let me be where I needed to be, at that critical meeting. The course of Rigel's life—and by extension, my own—is bound to what happens next."

Daphne moved closer, seating herself beside Astoria on the soft bed. The luxurious fabric of the blankets yielded beneath her, adding a tactile richness to the moment. She gently took Astoria's hand, their fingers interlocking, as if to physically anchor the trust and affection between them. "I realise this is overwhelming, but there's more. Madam Black has begun to outline a plan. It's still taking shape, but if it works, it's not just Rigel who gets a new life—I do, too."

Astoria's eyes sparkled, this time imbued not just with awe but a flicker of hope and joy. "Daph, that's extraordinary—for both you and Rigel. I'm genuinely thrilled for you. If you need any more help, just say the word. I'm here for you two."

Daphne's face softened, gratitude mingling with the complex web of emotions that played across her features. "Thank you, Tori. Your support means everything to us."

Astoria looked deep into her sister's eyes, then shifted her gaze to Rigel, who had now joined them on the bed, his black fur contrasting sharply against the pale sheets. After a long pause, filled with the weight of the secrets and possibilities that lay before them, she nodded. "Well, this is certainly one way to start a semester. Count me in, sis. We have a lot of unravelling to do."

As Astoria's words lingered in the air, the room itself seemed to buzz with the intensity of newly-shared secrets and the promise of many more to come. Rigel lounged comfortably beside the sisters, his blue eyes twinkling as if in on the greatest secret of all. The bond between two sisters had deepened, fortified by mysteries they were now committed to unravelling together.

~~~o~~~

As the last traces of dinner's warmth fled their bellies, the group gathered in the Room of Requirement, later the same day. The room had adapted itself to their needs: a wide-open space with chalk circles for spellwork, and a magical atmosphere that tingled the skin. Here, after their daily grind of classes, they found solace in the camaraderie of shared secrets and magical challenges. Today, the patronus charm was on the agenda again.

Harry stood in the centre of the room, his black hair an untamed tuft that seemed almost defiant against any form of order, framed by the iconic round glasses that rested over his keen green eyes. "Given that the Dementors are still present at Hogwarts, they remain a real threat. We need to continue practising the Patronus Charm."

Nods met his statement—Hermione's analytical, Neville's somewhat hesitant, Tracey's enthusiastic, and Daphne's contemplative. Rigel had perched himself on a wooden stool, his gaze almost unsettlingly focused.

With a synchrony born of many hours of practice, they all drew their wands. "Expecto Patronum!" The words echoed in a chorus, filling the room with the sounds of hope and determination. Despite their best efforts, all that materialised were wisps of silvery mist that vanished almost as soon as they appeared.

Then, as if breaking some unspoken barrier, a silvery shield burst from Rigel, enveloping the room in a protective embrace. No full-fledged animal took shape, but the shield was clearly corporeal, vibrant and solid.

"Blimey, Rigel, you've done it!" Harry praised, a grin breaking across his face.

Almost as startling was Tracey's success; a silvery shield sprang forth from her wand, wavering slightly before stabilising. It was an incredible feat, especially for someone so newly acquainted with the complex magic of the Patronus Charm.

"Fantastic, Tracey! Well done!" Harry couldn't contain his admiration, his voice bubbling with genuine enthusiasm.

Envious yet proud, Hermione and Daphne looked on, offering Tracey grudging smiles that didn't quite hide their competitive spirits. If Tracey could do it, so could they—it was only a matter of time and practice.

Driven by the successes, they continued their efforts, repeatedly invoking the charm until the room was awash with flashes of silvery light, each a small but significant triumph.

Eventually, the ornate clock on the room's wall indicated that the hour of curfew was upon them. Their faces were flushed from the efforts of the evening, but their eyes—those windows to their very souls—glowed with the joy of shared triumphs and efforts.

"We've done good work today," Harry summarised, locking eyes with each of his friends in turn. "Let's head back before we get caught out past curfew."

They nodded, collected their belongings, and exited the Room of Requirement, its door disappearing behind them as if sealing away a treasured secret.

~~~o~~~

In the sequestered sanctity of her room, Daphne slipped into her nightclothes—a delicate ensemble of silk and whispers—and sank into her bed. The room was dimly lit by the soft glow of her bedside lamp, casting a gentle light on her pale complexion. Her blonde hair lay fanned out over her pillow like a halo. Rigel, the black cat with arresting blue eyes, nestled beside her, welcoming her touch as she pulled him into a warm cuddle.

"Rigel," she began, her voice laced with the curiosity she felt over their unspoken connection, "what memory did you use for the Patronus today?"

She felt a hesitation ripple through their connection. A momentary pullback, a pause that filled the room with its weight.

"Come on, don't be shy," she coaxed, her tone as soft as the silk sheets beneath them. "We've shared so much, been through so much together."

Rigel's voice tiptoed into her mind, cautious but clear. "I thought about the hug we shared the other day, when we talked about the betrothal contract," he admitted.

Daphne's eyes softened, a sympathetic nod acknowledging his confession. "I understand. I know that meant a lot to you."

The room's silence was fragile, hanging in the air like a delicate icicle on the verge of falling. Daphne broke it cautiously. "Another question, if you don't mind. You've been somewhat distant since meeting your grandmother. Why?"

Rigel hesitated, but vulnerability cracked through the ice. "To be honest, I'm in a storm of emotions," he said, a shadow of sorrow crossing his face. "Learning that Sirius Black was my father initially filled me with a sort of dread. But now, knowing he really is the man Harry has heard so many warm and fond stories of... it's left me unsure."

Daphne could feel the swirling tempest of his emotions through their bond, a storm she couldn't control but could navigate beside him.

Rigel's voice then took on a darker hue, filled with undertones that spoke of deeper, more complex desires. "Originally, I viewed my grandmother as little more than a means to an end. A conduit to regaining my human form and, with it, a level of influence, of power, that should have been mine all along."

Daphne sensed the subtle flicker of ambition behind his words but didn't interrupt.

"But," Rigel continued, his voice mellowing, tinged with an unfamiliar emotion—maybe it was hope or perhaps a newfound sense of ambition that was subtler, less overt. "Now, the idea of being part of something greater, a family—with them, with Harry and with you—it presents opportunities not just for me but for us all. There's power in alliances, in collective strength, that I hadn't previously considered."

As his words melted into her thoughts, Daphne found herself swept up in a mix of astonishment and warmth. Family. It was a simple word, yet laden with so many complexities, so many possibilities. And for the first time, the weight of it felt comforting—like a soft quilt on a cold night, or the embracing arms of someone who genuinely cared.

Her fingers idly stroked the sleek fur of his back as Daphne delved into another question that had been nagging at the corners of her mind. "What about the plea we made in our first year? If I do break away from my family, what will happen to it? To us?"

Rigel's response was contemplative, a slow unfolding of thoughts. "The plea will break, that much is certain. But don't worry. It simply solidified what was already there between us. I'm no expert on magical connections or bonds, but what we share? It goes beyond the boundaries of any plea or spell."

Daphne's eyes gleamed, a visible sigh of relief escaping her lips as she processed his words. The thought of losing that intricate tapestry of shared thoughts and emotions was unthinkable; it would leave a void within her, a yawning emptiness. "I can't imagine going back to a life without your thoughts and feelings in my mind. It would feel... empty."

Rigel seemed to purr in agreement, a soft vibrato of emotion that resonated through their mysterious bond. "I feel the same, Daphne."

With that final shared sentiment, a profound tranquillity enveloped them, as though an unspoken pact had been reaffirmed. Their eyes met one last time, two souls in quiet understanding before they succumbed to the lull of slumber. As they drifted into the landscapes of their dreams, they found that even there, their thoughts mingled and danced, creating beautiful tapestries of shared imaginings.

~~~o~~~

A few days had passed since Professor Lupin's latest absence, and the classroom buzzed with renewed energy as he walked back in, looking slightly worn but no less passionate about the subject of Defence Against the Dark Arts. After the class on Boggarts had concluded and the students began filing out, Harry hung back, his keen green eyes flickering with questions.

"Ah, Harry," Professor Lupin said, catching sight of him. "Would you like to talk? My office is open."

"Thank you, Professor," Harry replied, following Lupin down the corridor and into the cosy, book-lined office that smelled faintly of tea and parchment.

They both took seats, Lupin behind his cluttered desk and Harry in a worn but comfortable armchair. A steaming cup of tea sat on the desk, wisps of steam rising lazily into the air.

"First off, how have you been feeling, Professor?" Harry began, genuine concern filling his eyes. "This isn't the first time you've been sick."

Lupin smiled, a weary but warm smile that seemed to temporarily lighten the shadows on his face. "Oh, I'm quite alright, Harry. Don't you worry."

However, as their eyes met, Harry felt a flicker of something more behind Lupin's words, a certain guardedness he couldn't quite place. Yet, he decided to let the moment pass, storing it away for another time when perhaps the Professor would be more inclined to share.

Harry shifted in his chair, his gaze focused but distant, as if he were seeing something far beyond the room's wooden walls. "Professor, over the holidays, I've had time to think—a lot actually—about Sirius Black. Do you think...is there any chance he could be innocent?"

Lupin's eyes widened slightly, visibly caught off guard. For a moment, he seemed lost in his own swirling pool of thoughts. Finally, he spoke, his voice softer, more vulnerable than Harry had ever heard it. "Harry, I never gave up hope that Sirius might be innocent. We were friends for a long time, close as brothers. I find it hard to believe, impossible really, that he could have faked all those years of friendship. So yes, I do think there's a chance he might be innocent."

Lupin then leaned forward, his hands folded on the desk as he regarded Harry intently. "But what's brought about this change in you? Every time his name has come up in the past, you've been...well, let's just say less than composed."

Harry hesitated. For a moment, he contemplated sharing everything—the fact that Rigel was alive, Madam Black's intricate plans, and the web of uncertainty that had woven itself around Sirius Black's name. But then he remembered Lupin's attitude toward Daphne, the way he seemed to disapprove of her. Harry decided against full disclosure.

"Well, over the break, I did a lot of thinking. And it occurred to me that both you and Professor McGonagall always talked about Sirius Black as though he was this good, loyal person," Harry explained, choosing his words carefully. "I started to think about those stories, about the man you described, and it got me wondering. So I thought it was time I got your opinion on whether Sirius Black could be innocent."

Lupin nodded, his eyes narrowing in a blend of pleasure and perplexity. As if Harry's sudden change of heart was a valuable yet ill-fitting puzzle piece, he said, "I'm glad you're questioning things, Harry. Blindly accepting what we're told can be dangerous. But I have to admit, I can't reconcile this with the young man who, just before the holidays, was hell-bent on seeing Sirius Black as a menace. You even feared he was coming after you. Now, suddenly, you're pondering his innocence? There's more to this than you're telling me."

Harry met Lupin's scrutinising stare, his heart pounding a beat faster. "You're right, Professor. There is more, but it's not something I'm ready to share yet."

"Why don't you trust me, Harry?" Lupin's voice softened, a mix of hurt and inquiry colouring his words.

Harry sighed, his hands gripping the arms of the chair as he weighed his response. "It's not that simple. Our relationship has improved, yes, but we're not at a point where I can trust you completely. You disapprove of Daphne, and it seems to me that you're projecting her parents' crimes onto her, treating her unfairly because of it."

Lupin opened his mouth, perhaps to object, but Harry continued, "And it's not just that. You've been ill several times last term. There's clearly something you're not telling me. So how can I trust you completely when it's obvious you don't trust me with whatever's going on with you?"

With that, Harry rose abruptly, his robes rustling as he stormed toward the door. He was nearly there, his hand inches from the doorknob, when Lupin's voice cut through the tension.

"Harry, wait."

Harry paused, his hand hovering in mid-air. He had every reason to keep going, to leave behind the web of half-truths and hidden agendas that seemed to hang in the air between them. But something—call it intuition or sheer stubbornness—made him stay. He turned, eyeing Lupin warily. "What is it, Professor?"

The air in the room thickened as Lupin took a deep breath, his shoulders rising and falling with the weight of a confession long-held. "Harry, the reason for my recurring absences... it's because I'm a werewolf. The days I'm 'ill' coincide with the full moon."

Harry's eyes widened, his thoughts racing to align the dates of Lupin's absences with a lunar calendar. How could he have been so blind? "Why didn't you tell me?" Harry's voice was tinged with both astonishment and a hint of betrayal.

Lupin sighed, his eyes clouded with vulnerability. "I was afraid, Harry. Afraid that if you knew, you might distance yourself, want nothing to do with me."

Harry absorbed this, his eyebrows furrowing as he connected dots in his mind. "Did my parents know? Sirius, Peter, did they know too?"

"Yes," Lupin replied, his voice softening. "They knew. In fact, James, Sirius, and Peter became Animagi just so they could accompany me during my transformations."

Harry's expression twisted, a veil of anger replacing his previous composure. "So let me get this straight," he began, his voice laced with bitterness. "You were quick to project the mistakes of Daphne's parents onto her, yet when it came to me, you decided to conveniently forget that my parents stood by your side. They never abandoned you. Are you telling me you only attribute parents' qualities to their children when it suits your narrative? What about the kindness and acceptance my parents embodied?"

Harry's eyes locked onto Lupin's, unyielding, as the air between them seemed to thicken. "You know what, Professor? It's not even about picking and choosing when to project parents' qualities onto their children. It's about the fundamental flaw in doing that at all. Daphne is her own person, just like I am. We're not mere echoes of our parents, bound to repeat their choices. We have our own paths, our own judgments to make. To reduce us to mere continuations of our families — especially when it's convenient for you — is unfair and hypocritical."

Lupin's face seemed to crumple inward, as if Harry's words had hit him like a physical blow. For a moment, his eyes wavered, disoriented, before they finally met Harry's. In that prolonged gaze, an entire dialogue of unspoken thoughts and regrets unfolded. The room was suffused with a heavy silence, each of them burdened by the enormity of what had just been said. It was as though Harry had peeled back a layer, exposing an uncomfortable truth Lupin had never even paused to consider.

The silence stretched for a moment, pregnant with emotions and thoughts unsaid. Finally, Harry broke it. "If circumstances were different, if we had met under more ordinary conditions, I think we would have been much closer, Professor. You're like a connection to my parents, one of the last fragments I have of them. If they didn't turn their backs on you, why should I?"

Something seemed to crack within Lupin at those words. The burdened look that had taken residence in his eyes since the conversation began seemed to lift, replaced by a glimmer of misty-eyed relief. Stepping forward, he enveloped Harry in a tight hug, murmuring, "Thank you, Harry. You don't know how much that means to me. You've given me a lot to think about."

Though initially startled by the sudden physical contact, Harry soon relaxed into the hug. The embrace was not unfamiliar; he had grown used to the comfort of hugs, mostly thanks to Hermione and Tracey. He patted Lupin's back gently, a small gesture to share the comfort he had received from others.

After a moment, they stepped back from each other. Harry looked at Lupin's now-eased face and said, "I'll leave you to your thoughts for now. How about we meet for tea sometime soon?"

Lupin nodded, his eyes shining. "I'd like that very much, Harry."

With a final nod, Harry turned and left the room, leaving Lupin standing amidst a sea of memories and newfound hope.

~~~o~~~

The air was sharp with the bite of winter, but the atmosphere was thick with electricity. It was January 20th, a week shy of Rigel's birthday, but the spotlight today wasn't on calendar dates or upcoming celebrations. No, today was about something primal, something that stirred the soul of every witch and wizard in Hogwarts: the next Quidditch match of the season, Gryffindor versus Slytherin. More importantly, this was the day Harry would unveil his Firebolt in the arena of competition.

The Quidditch Stadium was a sea of colours and faces, pulsating with anticipation and loyalty. Fans had their scarves wrapped tightly around them, the house colours flying like war banners in the icy wind. The players floated in the air on their broomsticks, encircling Madam Hooch like planets orbiting a sun.

"Ready?" Madam Hooch's eyes were like two sharp orbs, sweeping over the nervous and excited players. A whistle pierced the air, and the game was afoot.

It was as if the Gryffindor team was possessed by the spirits of Quidditch legends. The Chasers worked in perfect harmony, dodging Bludgers and Slytherin players alike, netting two goals within the first three minutes. Slytherin's attempts to score were squashed mercilessly by the Gryffindor Keeper.

And then, as the clock neared the fourth minute, Harry's keen eyes spotted it—a glimmer of gold darting past the Slytherin goalposts. The Snitch. With a surge of adrenaline, he angled his Firebolt downwards and rocketed toward his quarry. The stadium was a blur, the roar of the crowd reduced to mere whispers against the wind in his ears. His hand stretched out, fingers splayed, and in less than twenty seconds from the moment he had seen it, the Snitch was in his grasp.

A howl erupted from the Gryffindor stands as the scoreboard blinked: Gryffindor 170, Slytherin 0. Madam Hooch blew her whistle again, this time to signal the end of one of the shortest, most decisive matches in Hogwarts Quidditch history.

As Harry landed, he was swarmed by his teammates, their faces flushed from the cold and the sheer thrill of victory. The euphoria of victory swirled in the air like incense when Harry saw his friends, together with Astoria, Ginny, and Luna making their way through the jubilant crowd towards him. Ginny's red hair was like a flame in the sea of people, and Astoria's face was flushed with excitement.

"Well done, Harry!" Ginny exclaimed, her eyes shining with exhilaration.

Harry grinned, his eyes flitting over each of their faces before settling on Daphne, who stood a little farther back with Tracey. "Thanks. I tried extra hard today, you know. I'm hoping to see two new beautiful players on the Slytherin team next year." His eyes darted meaningfully from Daphne to Ginny, leaving no room for doubt as to whom he referred.

While Daphne and Ginny simply smiled, their eyes twinkling with a mix of surprise and pleasure, several bystanders exchanged shocked and intrigued glances. However, it was Tracey who burst into laughter.

"My, my, Mr. Potter. Publicly flirting? With two girls at the same time, no less? What has gotten into you?"

Chuckling, Harry shot her a mischievous glance. "Maybe some of my friends are rubbing off on me."

Tracey's laughter intensified, and she leaned in, winking at Harry. "Well, they're certainly a good influence, if you ask me."

The group's laughter mingled with the lingering echoes of the crowd's cheers, filling the crisp winter air with the sweet note of collective joy. For now, victory—both on and off the field—was theirs to savour.

~~~o~~~

The cold January morning crept through the window panes, its frosty fingers beckoning a new day. Rigel, unaware that the whole day had been planned around him, stretched lazily under the covers next to Daphne. She avoided his curious blue gaze as they got ready. She'd been doing that all morning. To Rigel, the noticeable absence of a 'Happy Birthday' was a sting, a pang of hurt that gnawed at him.

Classes passed in a blur, the hours ticking away steadily, but for Rigel, the weight of the day grew heavier with each passing moment. The usual routine found Rigel, Tracey, and Daphne walking to the Room of Requirement after their last class. Rigel's steps, although on four nimble feet, were lacklustre, his mind clouded with disappointment.

But as the door to the Room of Requirement swung open, the sight that greeted him was far from ordinary. A gentle glow bathed the room, its warm ambiance heightened by the lively crackle of the fireplace. Colourful balloons floated gracefully, some tethered to chairs, while others bumped lazily against the ceiling. Walls were draped with streamers and banners that joyfully proclaimed, 'Happy Birthday Rigel!'

And there, in the middle of it all, stood Harry, Hermione, and Neville. Each wore a comically large birthday hat atop their heads, their faces split with wide grins. The moment the trio saw him, their voices rose in jubilant unison. "Happy Birthday, Rigel!"

Rigel twitched with the tip of his tail in a manner everyone in the room recognised as a sign of his deep contentment. Through the bond he shared with Daphne, she relayed his emotions and thoughts to the others. "Rigel says he's deeply touched," she began, her voice soft with affection, "He had no idea I'd shared his birthday with you all."

With delicate care, Daphne reached down, gently lifting Rigel into her arms. She smiled warmly at him as she placed a little purple birthday hat atop his head, its colour matching her own. Rigel, for all the world looking both dignified and slightly amused, wore the hat with a certain poise.

Neville chuckled, "Well, he certainly wears it better than I do."

Harry nodded in agreement, "Absolutely, he looks like royalty."

Rigel purred loudly in response, clearly enjoying the attention.

Hermione, with her ever-organised nature, motioned towards the table laden with food. "Come on, let's eat!" she declared.

They all dished out their portions, but the centrepiece was undoubtedly the steaming plate of cooked beef set aside for Rigel. The scent wafted towards him, and his blue eyes sparkled with anticipation.

Daphne smiled, watching Rigel's eager expression. "Looks like someone can't wait to dive in," she teased.

Rigel wasted no time, savouring each bite of his favourite meal.

After the feast, the atmosphere settled into a calm serenity. The group moved closer to the fire, its warm glow casting flickering shadows on the walls. Rigel, his belly full, settled comfortably between Daphne and Tracey, his purrs a rhythmic, comforting backdrop.

Tonight, there were no looming threats, no urgent matters to attend to. Just the comforting presence of friends, celebrating Rigel's special day.

~~~o~~~

The gentle light from the moon filtered through the enchanted ceiling of Daphne's room, painting the space with a serene, underwater glow. The shifting waters from the depths of the Black Lake danced across the ceiling, casting shimmering patterns across the walls and bedspread. Amidst the tranquil setting, Rigel's blue eyes, reflecting the faint luminescence, met Daphne's.

"Thank you, Daphne," Rigel communicated his emotions of gratitude and warmth through their bond. "Today was... special."

She returned his gaze, the underwater moonlight accentuating the soft contours of her face. "You're welcome, Rigel."

"This morning, when you didn't mention anything, I had the sinking feeling you'd forgotten," Rigel conveyed, his feelings rippling through their bond.

Daphne sighed softly, her fingers brushing the smooth fur on his head. "I felt terrible about that. Our bond made it even more difficult to keep the surprise from you. But I wanted this day to be unforgettable for you."

Rigel emitted a gentle purr, expressing his contentment. "It was worth every moment, Daphne. Every single one."

She smiled, a hint of amusement in her eyes. "You know, we did brainstorm about possible gifts for you. But your situation is... unique. Typical cat items seemed inappropriate, yet human gifts wouldn't be suitable either."

Rigel, with the depth of emotion he could project, reassured her. "Don't worry about it. The time we spent together, the laughter, the memories - that's all I could ever wish for."

The room's tranquillity was punctuated by Daphne's soft voice, "You know, Rigel, I did have a unique gift idea for you. One I hadn't shared with the others."

Curiosity piqued, Rigel looked up, his blue eyes questioning. "What was it?"

Instead of answering immediately, Daphne rose from the bed, her movements deliberate. To Rigel's surprise, she began to undress, allowing her clothes to slip away until she stood there, completely naked. His feline eyes widened, trying to process the scene, not only appreciating her beauty but also questioning her intent.

He couldn't help but comment, "It's winter, Daphne. You might want to consider a warmer attire."

Daphne simply smiled at his innocent remark and slid into bed, pulling the sheets over her. With a gentle gesture, she beckoned Rigel closer and nestled him comfortably against her, letting him feel the warmth of her skin. She whispered, her breath warm against his fur, "I know. I'm cold. Tonight, it's your job to keep me warm."

Still nestled closely, Rigel voiced his puzzlement. "Why this gesture, Daphne?"

A soft chuckle emanated from her. "Well, I had a feeling a teenage boy might appreciate it. And, after all, we are going to be betrothed. I want this day to remain etched in your memory forever."

With a sigh of contentment, Rigel replied, "It certainly will be now." And in that intimate embrace, the two drifted into a peaceful slumber, the room bathed in the muted glow from the Black Lake's depths.

~~~o~~~

As the days of winter turned colder, the once peaceful and routine life of Hogwarts was perturbed by a subtle change. The otherwise predictable patterns of students' behaviour now showcased an anomaly: Pansy Parkinson, who strutted the halls of Hogwarts with an unfamiliar confidence.

This change had not gone unnoticed by Daphne, Tracey, and Rigel. Their once closely-guarded secret, the Diadem of Rowena Ravenclaw, had vanished from its safe haven in Daphne's room. The group had been searching for clues about its disappearance, and Pansy's recent behavioural shift seemed too coincidental to be ignored.

One evening, as the warm glow of the fireplace danced on the walls of the Room of Requirement, the matter was brought up for discussion. Daphne broached the topic, "Has anyone else noticed Pansy's new-found boldness?"

Hermione, ever observant, nodded, "Yes, and it's eerily timed with the Diadem's disappearance. It's hard not to draw parallels."

Harry's gaze sharpened. "You think she might have taken it?"

Daphne sighed, "I don't want to point fingers without evidence, but the timing... It's just too coincidental."

Rigel's thoughts resonated through Daphne's voice, "If she does have it, the Diadem might be affecting her. We've seen how it can sway one's behaviour."

Tracey added, "It's possible that wearing it has emboldened her. But we need to tread carefully. If she's under its influence, she might be more unpredictable."

Neville, rubbing his chin, said, "If Pansy did steal it, she would be secretive about its whereabouts. We need to watch her actions closely."

Rigel, eager to contribute, proposed, "I can stealthily observe her. Maybe she'll lead us right to it."

Hermione weighed the risks, "It's a good plan, but we should start with surveillance from a distance. We can't risk alerting her."

The room was filled with nods of agreement. Determination burned in their eyes. The Diadem's theft was a mystery that they were set on unravelling, and Pansy Parkinson was their first significant lead. The hunt was on.

~~~o~~~

The days that followed witnessed Hogwarts as a place teeming with subtle intrigue. Everywhere Pansy went, she had a shadow — not visible, but ever-present. Every gesture she made, every laugh she shared, and every whisper exchanged was closely observed by a keen set of eyes.

At meals, it was Harry, Hermione, and Neville who watched her intently. Seated across the grand dining hall, they ensured not to make it too obvious. They chatted among themselves but were always alert, ready to pick up on any unusual gesture or whisper.

In the classroom, their observation was a bit more discreet. Every time Pansy so much as scribbled an extra note or shared a brief moment of eye contact with someone, they were aware. However, nothing out of the ordinary was detected.

For Daphne, Tracey, and Rigel, the task was more challenging. Within the Slytherin common room, where the cold, dark greens of the underwater view often mirrored the house's secretive nature, they had to be particularly careful. Rigel, being a cat, was able to slink around corners and couches with ease, often settling himself in a spot from where he could watch Pansy without arousing suspicion. Daphne and Tracey had to be more creative, sometimes pretending to be engrossed in their studies or casual chit-chat, their attention actually focused on Pansy.

Pansy's behaviour had undeniably changed, but no outward sign of the Diadem or anything suspicious associated with it was in sight. She frequently chatted and giggled with Millicent Bulstrode, but what caught the group's attention was her newfound camaraderie with Draco Malfoy. They were often seen engrossed in deep conversations, sharing chuckles, and occasionally studying together.

The warmth in their interaction was something new, something that had not been visible before. However, this newfound friendship also didn't yield any clues regarding the Diadem's whereabouts.

After a few weeks, the group had to admit, at least to themselves, that their surveillance hadn't been fruitful. Pansy's newfound confidence remained a mystery, just as the location of the stolen Diadem did.

~~~o~~~

The Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom was buzzing with nervous energy. Desks were neatly arranged in rows, each one occupied by a Hogwarts student, quill poised over parchment. Sunlight filtered through the windows, casting a warm, golden hue across the room. Every now and then, a student would pause to rub their neck or sigh, but for the most part, the room was enveloped in a tense silence. Today's exam was crucial: a review of all the dark creatures they'd encountered this year, along with the best methods to counter them.

Harry sat two rows from the back, wracking his brain to remember the specifics of a Hinkypunk when a jarring, clanking noise broke his concentration. It seemed to come from the direction of Professor Lupin's office. Whispers spread like wildfire as the sound grew louder, more persistent.

Before anyone could speculate further, Professor Lupin, who'd been proctoring the exam, rose from his desk with a puzzled expression. He walked over to his office door and slowly pushed it open.

The ensuing scene was nothing short of comical.

A group of Nifflers, those mischievous little creatures with a penchant for all things shiny, spilled out of the office. They darted around the classroom, their little pouches bulging with stolen treasures, causing utter chaos. Some students shouted in delight, others shrieked and clambered onto their desks, while a few brave souls tried to corral the critters.

Amidst the pandemonium, Harry caught Hermione's eye. They both had the same thought. Only one pair of mischief-makers in Hogwarts would have the gall to unleash Nifflers during an exam: the Weasley twins.

As Nifflers darted haphazardly, one targeting Dean Thomas's gleaming watch and another attempting to abscond with a silver necklace, Professor Lupin acted with swift precision. With a clear incantation, he released a series of stunners, each one hitting its mark. Before the students knew it, the creatures lay immobilised on the classroom floor, their mischievous escapade halted.

Lupin, straightening his robes, tried to stifle a chuckle. "An unexpected twist to our examination," he remarked, eyes twinkling with amusement. "In light of the disturbance, everyone will be given an extra five minutes."

Murmurs of appreciation filled the room. Harry leaned back in his chair, a smile on his face, curious about the Weasley twins' involvement in this little adventure. Another day, another memory at Hogwarts.