When Scabbers disappeared–leaving behind signs of foul play–Ron wasted no time in declaring Crookshanks a murderer.

Hermione dismissed the evidence as circumstantial. Her refusal to accept blame or show remorse fueled Ron's anger even more, which pushed her to cling more fiercely to her own position. She soon grew to find being around him unbearable, and took to spending most of her free time in the library or her room.

Hermione's mood wasn't helped by the extra stress of her magically-extended days. Ginny was still the only one of their friends who knew about the Time-Turner, and she pressed Hermione to find a way to catch up on sleep.

Hermione couldn't cross her own timeline to sleep in her own bed twice in the same night. But if she tried to use the Time-Turner to nap during the day, her roommates might notice she was elsewhere in the castle at the same time as being asleep back in their room.

Ginny helped by sneaking Hermione into her room once or twice a week for a second loop through the night. She enjoyed the chance to see Hermione loosen up a little, when she was drowsy and half-delirious from lack of sleep. They didn't dare do this too often, for fear of Ginny's roommates catching them and asking awkward questions, so Hermione's schedule remained chaotic, and the strain was starting to show.

For his part, Harry did what he could to distract Ron and stop him from obsessing. He offered Ron the chance to try out the Firebolt. This worked for a little while, as when Ron returned to the ground, he couldn't stop talking about how the broom's performance was even better than advertised.

However, as they were walking back from the pitch, they saw a figure which Harry took at first to be the Grim, but which turned out to be Crookshanks when they got closer. This set Ron off on another rant, now featuring the new element that the cat was clearly as much a harbinger of death as the Grim was.

~*~

As Harry sat at breakfast before the match between Gryffindor and Ravenclaw, nearly everyone with even a passing interest in brooms stopped by to admire the Firebolt. This included Cedric Diggory, the Hufflepuff seeker. Harry tensed, expecting the sort of gibes Malfoy liked to get in before a match, but Diggory merely remarked, "Wow. Beautiful broom," then gave a friendly nod and walked away.

Malfoy turned out to be one of the few who didn't stop by to comment. Harry's dramatic dive, Snitch in hand, through a dark storm-cloud of Dementors had shut the Slytherin Seeker up on the subject of Quidditch–for the time being.

Harry met the Ravenclaw Seeker formally for the first time at the match, though he knew her by sight. Cho Chang was pretty, but he wasn't too impressed by her Quidditch play. She seemed content to follow him around, letting him do the work of searching for the Snitch. The problem was this approach would require her to beat him in a race to the Snitch once he spotted it, when they both knew he had the faster broom.

His idea of the perfect witch would be someone who wasn't just pretty, but also… crafty? No, that sounded too much like a Slytherin. Maybe crafty, but not afraid to be bold in acting on it. That sounded more like a proper Gryffindor attitude, and he certainly couldn't look down on a Gryffindor having a Slytherin streak, with how his own Sorting had almost gone.

At any rate, he would have expected better strategy from a Ravenclaw.

Harry's team played well, so by the time he caught the Snitch, the victory already seemed inevitable. This didn't lessen the enthusiasm his team and the rest of Gryffindor showed in response.

That enthusiasm drove the ensuing celebration well into the night. McGonagall had to come to their common room to demand they all knock it off and go to bed.

Harry went to sleep thinking the day had been just about perfect, but he was jolted awake by the sound of Ron crying out in terror at the sight of Sirius Black standing over him, slashing at his bed curtains with a knife.

~*~

No one could figure out how Sirius Black had once again managed to enter the castle. His means of entry to Gryffindor Tower was soon determined though, when Neville Longbottom came forward to admit he'd left a list of passwords lying out.

McGonagall gave Neville a detention and revoked his Hogsmeade privileges, and his grandmother sent him a Howler two days later.

When the Howler arrived at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall, Ginny snatched it away before Neville could open it. She studied it curiously.

Neville said, "Uh, I should probably open it. Otherwise, it'll explode."

"I know how they work," she assured him, but made no move to return it. Reaching out with her magical senses, she felt the power rising within the red envelope. She didn't recognize all the magic inside it, but there was enough fire in the mix for her to follow the spell's progression.

The other Gryffindors seated nearby were growing uneasy. They urged her to let Neville open the Howler and get it over with, but she continued to let the magic build. As she felt it peak, with a snap of her wrist she sent the envelope spinning into the air over the Slytherin table. It exploded with a blast of sound, producing satisfying reactions from the students below.

Neville winced as his grandmother's voice roared through the Great Hall, all the words of her message piled on top of each other in a short burst that left everyone's ears ringing.

Snape came charging down the aisle from the head table. "Who was responsible for that explosion?"

"Neville's grandmother," Ginny answered.

Snape cast a brief glare at Neville, then returned his attention to Ginny. "Indeed? I do not see Augusta Longbottom present anywhere in this dining hall."

"She sent the Howler," Ginny answered with a shrug, avoiding eye contact with him out of habit.

Snape turned back to Neville. "Why didn't you open it? Will you never tire of endangering your classmates with your complete ineptness?"

Neville looked down at the table and said nothing. As terrified as he was of Snape, he couldn't bring himself to squeal on a housemate to save himself.

He was spared from Snape's wrath when Ginny piped up to say, "Oh, I grabbed it away from him. You know, if those things are so dangerous, maybe they shouldn't be allowed into the castle in the first place. Just a thought."

Snape pointed an accusing finger at her. "Then you admit you were the cause!"

"Causes can be tricky to nail down," Ginny mused. "Blaming the person who first figured out how to create a Howler is probably going too far back. But Neville's grandmother sent this particular Howler, even if it happened to pass through my hands later in its journey. I certainly hope you're not thinking of sending her a Howler in return, now that we've agreed how dangerous those things are."

Snape fumed for several moments before regaining the ability to speak. "Detention for a week!" he thundered at her, before storming out of the Great Hall, his cloak billowing behind him.

Ginny looked around at the other Gryffindors. "Wow. Speaking of explosions, he needs to work on that temper of his. I hope it wasn't anything I said."

This earned appreciative laughs from her housemates. She grinned and returned to her meal.

~*~

In response to Black's latest break-in, security in the castle was stepped up. The Fat Lady returned to her customary place, but her portrait was now guarded by security trolls. Although these trolls were rather different from the mountain troll Hermione had run afoul of in her first year, and she disapproved of prejudice against any magical species, their presence did little to soothe her already frayed nerves.

Ginny was frustrated that she and Hermione had learned of the latest attack too late to go back via Time-Turner to do anything about it. They might not be ready to take on Black themselves, but using the Map to see how he was getting in would have been helpful.

Ron seemed unfazed by the attack, despite having been the one faced with Black and his knife. In fact, he so enjoyed the attention he gained from recounting the tale, he decided to go to Hogsmeade to continue to bask in it, though this meant going by himself. Harry didn't want to risk an encounter with the Dementors, and Ron and Hermione were still at odds over what Ron insisted on referring to as 'brutal pet murder'.

While Ron was on his way back to the castle from Hogsmeade, he ran into Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle.

Malfoy shook his head. "So it's come to this. Even Scarhead and the Mudblood are too embarrassed to be seen in public with a Weasley."

The fact that Ron was on his own failed to bring to his mind the maxim about discretion being the better part of valor. He landed several solid jinxes in the duel that inevitably followed, but the odds were too much against him, and Malfoy managed to tag him with a Disarming Charm.

The three Slytherins began to lay into him with a bombardment of jinxes. Ron found himself lying on the ground, unable to rise due to a Leg-Locker Curse, and trying to cover his face.

"You know," Malfoy told him, "my father says Weasleys have three traits in common: red hair, freckles, and spawning far too often. I'd be doing your parents a favor if I put you out of everyone's misery. One less mouth to feed."

Ron said, "You need to think of some new insults. You've used that one before. And you forgot one important fact about the Weasleys."

"Did I?" Malfoy asked in a bored tone.

Ron gave him a smirk of anticipation. "There's always one around when you need them."

"Sometimes more than one," George said from right behind the Slytherins, making them jump.

"Each more handsome than the last," added Fred from beside his twin.

"An embarrassment of riches, really."

Malfoy spun around. "This doesn't concern you."

Although the two older Gryffindors were taller than the Slytherins, Fred made an exaggerated show of rising up on his toes and craning his neck to peer over their heads at Ron. "Doesn't concern us, he says. My eyes must be bad, because I could swear I recognize that chap these little snakes were accosting."

George mirrored his twin as he rose up as well. "I see red hair and freckles. I have it on good authority those traits are strongly associated with Weasley-hood."

"Even so, remember when mum and dad took us aside and told us that while we're away at school, our younger siblings are none of our concern?"

George scratched his chin. "No, can't say as I recall the conversation going in quite that direction. Quite the opposite, in fact."

"Ah, yes. Now I remember." Fred held out his hand towards Malfoy. "His wand. Now."

Malfoy flushed, but handed Ron's wand over in silence.

"Now run along, before we show you some serious jinxes."

Malfoy and the other Slytherins slunk away, shoulders hunched, casting nervous glances back. When Malfoy decided he'd reached a safe distance, he called back to Ron, "Your brothers won't always be around for you to hide behind." At a glare from Fred and George, the Slytherins scurried away.

Ron's brothers started to reach out to help him up, but he scrambled to his feet on his own. He snatched his wand back from Fred, his face a bright scarlet.

"Not exactly overflowing with gratitude, this one," George observed.

"Thanks," Ron mumbled. "I didn't need your help though. I was just catching my breath. Working out my strategy."

"Uh-huh. Listen, we've stayed out of it till now, but it's time for you to patch things up with Hermione. If for no other reason, then so she can keep you out of trouble."

"Malfoy was right about one thing," Fred added. "We won't always be around to look out for you." He swept his arm in an encompassing gesture. "There's a whole world waiting for us to get out there and entertain it."

"True, our destiny awaits us, but Ginny will still be here. If he's scared of us, wait until the first time she really lets him have it."

"I hope it doesn't sound like I'm going soft, but I'd almost say we should warn the idiot. Doubt he'd listen to advice from us though."

"Yeah. We have enough trouble getting through our own brother's thick head."

Ron said, "It's not like Hermione has made an effort to patch things up with me. You wouldn't understand."

"Try us," George insisted. "This has to be about more than an old rat you were indifferent to at best."

Ron blew out a breath. "I know Scabbers wasn't much, but he was what I had. It's not like mum's gonna get me another pet now. Hermione wasn't even supposed to have that evil beast. She was meant to get an owl. But she had the money, so she just changed her mind and bought it on a whim. Didn't even have to check with her parents or anything."

Fred and George exchanged a knowing look.

Fred said, "Maybe Hermione grew up with enough money that she doesn't value the things you can buy with it the same as someone who grew up having to make do, but she does value friendship. You'll have to decide for yourself which of those is more important in a friend."

Ron looked down and kicked at the ground. "It's not like I'm planning to stay mad at her forever, but the timing has to be right. If I let it go too soon, it'll be like saying it wasn't worth getting upset over in the first place, but it really was."

George sighed. "There's our mistake, Fred. We didn't realize there was a whole strategy behind it."

"Yeah," Fred agreed. "How foolish of us to mistake cleverly-constructed plans for mere stubbornness."

"Alright, leave off," Ron said. "I'll work it out."

"Come on, then," Fred told him. "We're heading back to the castle. You'd better stick with us, so we can keep you out of trouble until Hermione resumes her duties."

George said, "I suppose you're right, though it feels wrong somehow. I never thought I'd see the day when the two of us would set out to reduce the amount of trouble in the world."

"That is a sobering thought. We'll have to up our pranking game over the next week or two, to balance the cosmic scales."

"Atone for our lack of sins."

"Precisely."

~*~

In the next Care of Magical Creatures class, Draco Malfoy was in rare form. He remained annoyed at the utter failure of his cunning plot to have Buckbeak executed and Hagrid dismissed, and he was acting snarky and disruptive as a result.

For his part, Hagrid remained too pleased with the way everything had worked out with Buckbeak to register Malfoy's existence, let alone his attitude. After failing to provoke a response, Malfoy lapsed into a sulk.

On the way back to the castle after class, Malfoy ranted to Crabbe and Goyle about how Hagrid was too stupid to even notice when someone was insulting him. Overhearing this, Ron told Malfoy to shut his mouth.

Malfoy turned with a scowl. "What's the matter, Weasley? Didn't get enough of your betters putting you in your place the last time?"

Before Ron could respond, Hermione rushed forward and punched Malfoy in the face hard enough to knock him to the ground. Blood began to flow from his nose.

Malfoy gingerly felt his nose. When he saw his fingers come away bloody, he glared up at her in disbelief. "Did you just punch me? What the hell is wrong with you? What are you, a Muggle? That's not how civilized people act!"

"Very well," Hermione said, drawing her wand. "A magical duel, then. And this time, we won't schedule it for midnight in the trophy room. We'll settle this right here and now." When Malfoy just stared at her, she added, "When you're ready."

Malfoy must have seen something in her expression that made him consider–for perhaps the first time in his life–that he might actually face consequences for his actions, because he scrambled to his feet, then turned and ran without another word. His two Slytherin companions blinked at Hermione, then proceeded to lumber after him.

Ron gazed in wonder at Hermione, impressed but uncertain how to react. "Was that for Hagrid or for me?"

Hermione made an exasperated noise. "For both of you, you idiot!"

"Well, how was I supposed to know? You certainly haven't shown any sign of caring about me when it came to the terrible loss I suffered thanks to your demon!"

"Of course I care! I just didn't like you yelling at me about it over and over, or finding out you care about me less than some rat!"

"That's not fair!"

"No? In what way?"

Ron turned to Harry. "You explain it to her."

"Er…"

"Brilliant," Hermione huffed, and started to turn away.

"Wait!" Harry said. "You have to admit Ron has good reason to suspect Crookshanks, after all the times we saw him try to attack Scabbers."

"That doesn't prove it was him this time," she said, crossing her arms.

"And maybe all the people Black murdered aren't proof he's here to kill me. I'm still not taking any chances if I see him again. But don't let my little problems get in the middle of your important feud."

Ron said, "Mate, you know we've both got your back, no matter what else is going on."

"Both of you? That's going to be a neat trick when you can't even stand to be in the same room as each other."

Ron and Hermione gave each other an awkward look.

Ron fidgeted, but then gave a decisive nod. "Thanks for standing up for me. That meant a lot. Sometimes it seems like you care more about being right than about people. I guess that's why I made such a big deal about Scabbers. I thought if I didn't, you'd decide you were totally in the right, like always. Probably made a bigger deal than I should have though."

Harry cleared his throat.

"Alright," Ron admitted, "definitely a bigger deal than I should have. Especially if I made you think I cared about an old rat more than–you know–friends. Sorry."

Harry gave Hermione a pointed look.

Choosing her words, she said, "Looking at the limited evidence we have, it wouldn't be totally unreasonable for someone to conclude there might be some basis for suspecting my cat's involvement. If indeed he was in any way responsible, then I apologize on his behalf."

Harry cleared his throat again.

Hermione's manner softened. "I'm sorry you lost your pet, no matter what happened. That must be awful. I can't imagine what I'd do if anything happened to Crookie. That's part of why I couldn't admit he might have done it. I was afraid of what might happen to him. After the whole thing with Buckbeak–"

Ron looked shocked. "I would never–"

"No, of course not! You're nothing like Malfoy. You would never want to see any creature harmed out of spite. I've just been so tired and stressed and confused, and everything got mixed up in my head. With everything I've learned about the wizarding world's legal system while researching Buckbeak's case, and with the way that system treated Hagrid last year…"

"Yeah. You're not wrong. People like my dad try to make things better, but the Ministry still has a lot of problems."

Hermione nodded. "I even had this crazy nightmare where Black turned out to be innocent, and the Ministry gave him to the Dementors anyway. What those things can do to a person is just so awful, no matter what he's done. I'm not letting him off the hook for his crimes, but those creatures are like something out of a horror movie. And they weren't even sent by Riddle. The government sent them here, to a school, and everyone acts like that's normal."

Harry said, "Yeah, Lupin got me thinking too. I don't know if Black deserves to die for what he's done, but no one deserves to end up like that. I don't think my dad would want to see his former friend end up that way, even after everything. At least that's how I like to think of my parents as being." He shrugged and looked away.

Hermione stepped forward to hug him. After a moment's hesitation, she hugged Ron as well.

Ron noticed her hand. "Looks like you hurt your knuckles. I'm surprised you don't know a spell to make your hand harder for times like this. Let's let Hagrid take a look."

When Hagrid opened his door at their knock, he raised his eyebrows at seeing them back so soon. Hermione hesitated, but Ron lifted her hand to show her bruised knuckles, and Hagrid tsked and invited them in.

Hagrid was going through containers, looking for bandages, when they heard him exclaim, "Here now, what's this?"

They all gaped when Hagrid turned around holding a rat up by its tail.

"Scabbers!" Ron exclaimed.

Hermione refrained from commenting, and if she rolled her eyes, she did it facing so only Harry could see.