Chapter 31, everybody! In which Christmas rolls around and rats go missing...

Can I just say I love writing friendly Slytherins? And the familiars all plotting against the rat is fun too. XD Also, 'yarp' is a term that comes from the book series Guardians of Ga'Hoole, and refers to the pellets containing fur and bone that an owl will barf back up.

TroyWeb, thanks for the review! Yes, Luna definitely gets along well with Fitzherbert. And understanding Dog is an underrated ability. XD

Harry Potter © JK Rowling

Most everyone left for home for the Christmas break—mostly at the insistence of their families. No one wanted their kids away from home when there was a serial killer loose, which was fair.

Harry, of course, was staying at Hogwarts, because that just about described his relationship with the Dursleys. Ron was staying because of solidarity and because Bill and Charlie were visiting and that meant his room went to them. Hermione was staying because she wanted to get more reading done.

Malfoy was staying because he said it was important he keep working with the Hippogriffs, but Harry wondered.

"It occurs to me that Malfoy stayed here last Christmas too, even though last year wasn't the sort of year you wanted to stick around Hogwarts," Harry said to Snips as they watched him trudge out to Hagrid's hut in the bitter cold. "What kind of family are the Malfoys, anyway?"

Ron had a pretty flat assessment when asked.

"All pureblood, all snooty, big supporters of You-Know-Who," he said, scowling as he prodded one of his chess pieces into attacking Harry's rook. "Mr. Malfoy was actually one of his followers, but he claims that he was forced to be one under the Imperius Curse—not sure how many people actually believe that, but you can't actually prove or disprove it either."

"Hrrr," Snuffles sigh-growled, from his position on the couch.

"What's the Imperius Curse?" Harry asked blankly.

"I guess you wouldn't have heard of it—it's one of three Unforgivable Curses—they're like, the worst, using one gets you sent to Azkaban no question. Anyway, the Imperius Curse basically makes you do things you wouldn't usually do. Murder, for instance. And the person being controlled isn't really aware of it, and can't do anything to stop it. It's really awful."

Harry agreed on that matter, scootched a little closer to the fire and ate another bit of chocolate to stave off the shivers he got from that thought.

He supposed heading back to the Dursleys would mean not dealing with the Dementors, but he couldn't see how one outweighed the other. Better to stay where he was, where he actually enjoyed things.

Harry did spend a chunk of the next day working on his homework, coming back after dinner to scold both Snuffles and Murray the monster book for chewing it up.

The next draft was safely hidden in his trunk after that.

Christmas dawned bright and snowy and with a pile of presents that Harry was quick to dive into—and regift in the case of the Dursleys' present.

Murray was quite happy at the new pair of socks to eat.

"Nice haul this year!" Ron exclaimed, lifting one package up. "This one's from Hermione—ten galleons says it's a book."

"Not sure I want to take that bet," Harry countered, laughing.

Snuffles barked, bounding around the dorm before picking up a long thin package and dropping it in Harry's lap.

Harry blinked at it—he had received a package much like this once before, when he first got his Nimbus—tore open the wrapper after examining it for a name—

"Harry I need to borrow that one charms book again," Ron said, brandishing his new maroon sweater—froze upon spotting what he had. "Blimey—is that a Firebolt?"

"BORF!" Snuffles barked, bouncing around and tail wagging happily.

"Wicked! Who's it from?"

That was the topic of interest—as was scanning the whole room from top to bottom to see if it had come with a note, which it hadn't.

"Maybe Professor McGonagall got it for you?" Ron guessed. "She did get you the Nimbus."

"But this is expensive," Harry said, knowing full well what one cost after pining after one all summer. "McGonagall wouldn't have bought this!"

"She does like winning," Ron offered.

"I still don't think so."

The Firebolt continued to be a topic of great interest all the way down to the Great Hall—Harry watched Malfoy carefully when Ron bragged on it to him, didn't see any indication that Malfoy might have bought it out of some weird sense of repayment.

Their high mood lasted right up until they brought it down to run it out to the Quidditch pitch and test it out—and was stopped by Professor McGonagall.

"Mr. Potter," she said. "I understand you got this broom and don't know who it's from?"

"I don't," Harry said, watching her reaction. "But I have some suspicions."

"Unfortunately, I do as well. I'm going to need to take that broom for now—" Had to gesture for silence at their protesting. "Temporarily! Mr. Potter, has it not occurred to you that someone with malignant intent could have sent it to you?"

"That's a real expensive booby trap then," Ron said flatly.

"Be that as it may, we're still going to have to examine it—and I can assure you that if it's safe, it will be returned to you in one piece."

Harry couldn't help but glower, not looking at her, hands tightening on the broom. "You promise?" he asked, aware it sounded petulant.

"Mr. Potter," she said, in a tone that made him look up. "I want to win as much as you do. Trust me when I say I'd rather this be a benevolent secret Santa. But also trust me when I say I'd rather check first so we don't lose a seeker."

That was fair, he supposed—finally relented and gave her the broom, watched as she walked away, looking the broom over.

"I will be very cross with you if you turn out to be hexed," he heard her mutter to it.

"Well this bites," Ron said once she left. "Now what?"

Harry wasn't sure, just wanted to get rid of the aggravated feeling in the pit of his stomach. "Want to go out and have a snowball fight?"

That helped, and laughing at Snuffles bounding after thrown snowballs definitely helped improve their mood. Hot chocolate at Hagrid's, and then trudging up to the castle for dinner, almost banished thoughts of the Firebolt from his mind.

That didn't stop him from making a beeline for Professor McGonagall when he saw her.

"Mr. Potter," she sighed upon seeing him. "This won't be a process that will be speedy. Give me at least a week before beginning the pestering process."

"We're going over a list of potential hexes and jinxes right now," Professor Flitwick assured him.

Harry was back to being deflated when he trudged back to the others.

"No luck?" Ron asked. Harry shook his head as he sat down. "Well this blows—oi, Malfoy! You set this up so you wouldn't have to deal with Harry kicking your can on a Firebolt, didn't you!?"

"I'm good enough that I don't need to sabotage Potter!" Malfoy spat back. Snuffles growled at him, prompting Harry to tug on his scarf—

Snuffles' nose twitched—

He looked at Hermione. Who, now that Harry was looking, was very focused on her potatoes.

"Hermione," Harry said slowly.

She went red-faced, looked at him.

"Well," she said. "I just thought—and Professor McGonagall agrees with me—the broom might have been sent by Sirius Black!"

Ron didn't talk to Hermione for the rest of the holidays, which was actually pretty impressive.

Harry was mad at her too, but he didn't go quite as far as Ron did—mostly because it was just this thing and not this thing and Crookshanks trying to eat Scabbers.

"I mean on the one hand I get where she's coming from," Harry said to his current audience—that being Snips, Snuffles, Scuttle, Hedwig, and Murray (he was debating on renaming the book considering his current naming theme—maybe Scraps). "But on the other hand, Sirius Black is a wanted criminal—it's not like he could just waltz into Quality Quidditch Supplies and buy a broom."

Snuffles made a quiet borf at that, lowered his ears at Snips glaring at him.

Harry sighed and went back to his reading—it was done and over with now, and at this point he just had to hope that the Firebolt got through in one piece.

Snips had opinions and he was more than willing to share them.

'Of all the dunderheaded things,' he snapped, bouncing up and down on a desk in the common room indignantly. 'A Firebolt? Seriously?'

'"Lee" would actually be a good middle name for one Sirius Black,' the dog said. 'But Harry has a point—a wanted criminal did NOT just waltz right into a store on Diagon Alley.'

'He asked nicely for a mail order to be delivered,' Hedwig said, grooming her primaries—gave Snips a steady look in response to his glare. 'What? Harry needed a new broom. Besides, it's not like he's using the money.'

Snips didn't know what part of this to pick apart first. 'And you're telling me they happily filled out an order that tapped into Sirius Black's bank account to buy Harry Potter a broom when the whole wizarding world thinks he's out to get Harry? That raised red flags for NO ONE!?'

'Bold of you to assume that Sirius Black doesn't have an alternate bank account under a different name,' the dog offered.

'YOU don't talk. Ever.'

'What is the issue?' the cat asked, padding down the stairs leading to the girls' dorms.

'This stupid dog went and bought a Firebolt and now once again I have to listen to three kids snipe at each other.'

'He's not talking to me either because I helped,' Hedwig offered.

'Yowl at me too, I took the bank note to the local branch,' the cat said, sitting and licking its chops. 'But we're straying from the important topic—we're no closer to getting the rat now than we were before.'

'What's this about a rat?' Hedwig asked, looking at Snips.

Snips ground his beak and didn't answer, leaving the cat and dog to answer.

Hedwig was fluffed up and indignant when they finished explaining. 'I'll rip him to shreds and yarp up his corpse!'

'No, you won't, for the same reason these two won't,' Snips sighed. 'Capturing him and making him face his crimes is the worst thing we can do to him at this point.'

'We need to get him away from Ron,' Crookshanks said. 'So long as he's near the boy, we can't get to him.'

The dog looked back up at the boys' dorm pensively. 'Maybe if—'

The cat pawed at him. 'No. That is a bad idea and will only make things worse.'

'Tell him that whenever he looks like he's coming up with a plan,' Snips ordered.

'Gee thanks,' the dog huffed.

Hedwig fluffed her feathers and tipped her head thoughtfully. 'What if we lied to the rat?'

'Hmm?'

'What if we told him we knew someplace he could hide away from these two—' This with a talon gesturing at the cat and dog. 'And then locked him in a cage where he couldn't escape?'

'The rat is in a cage during Ron's Potions classes,' Crookshanks offered. 'Unfortunately, I'm locked in Hermione's dorm then, Snuffles here is kept outside, and Snips is at Potions.'

'I couldn't lift that cage even if I wanted to,' Snips said.

Hedwig considered it. 'How big is the cage? Is it big enough for say, a snowy owl to lift?'

They all considered that.

'Very well,' Crookshanks decided. 'Come the start of the new term, we will have our quarry.'

Crookshanks was wrong, as it turned out.

Harry startled awake at Ron screaming bloody murder, flailed out of bed squawking what what what happened—

In response, Ron held up his bloody sheets, gesturing to the open cage.

"I just—I thought I had the door latched—" Ron tried. "But that—that stupid cat must have grabbed him and ATE HIM ON MY BED—"

Hermione scrambled in, saying that she had heard Ron screaming from the other dorm, Professor McGonagall following, still in her house robes—

Had to separate Ron and Hermione when they had a whole yelling fit, Ron accusing her of leaving Crookshanks out to kill Scabbers and Hermione countering with Ron being negligent which had them both at each other's throats, exacerbated by no one being able to confirm that Hermione had remembered to lock Crookshanks up either, both of them totally upset and crying before it was all over.

By the time classes started again, Ron and Hermione had not said one word to each other, leaving Harry in a very awkward position of being friends with two people who at this point hated each other's guts.

"What even happened?" Neville asked, leaving Harry to fill people in and stop Ron from aiming kicks at Crookshanks whenever he saw the cat.

Hermione wasn't handling it much better, insistent that she hadn't done anything wrong and it wasn't her fault that Crookshanks acted like a cat—

"So if he eats Snips I'm just supposed to be okay with it?" Harry had to ask finally. "Scabbers was Ron's pet, Hermione—you'd be upset if something ate Crookshanks, right?"

Which had ended with Hermione declaring Harry to be just as bad as Ron and to storm off and not talk to him either. Harry took to hanging out with other people for a while after that.

"I don't know, that does seem a bad way to go," Ross Ambrose said as they went into the library. "I mean, if I were on my last legs, I wouldn't want to be eaten."

"I don't know, it seems faster than just lingering," Blaise Zabini offered. "Come over and sit with us, Harry—we'll see if we can't get you being the Heir of Slytherin started up again."

"My semester's bad enough without that starting up again," Harry sighed, sitting with them. Most of the group were members of the Slug Club, so he didn't feel like he was breaking any longstanding rivalries or anything like that.

Although Malfoy sitting there and working on his homework probably strained that.

"What, Potter?" Malfoy asked, looking up when he sat down. "Still moaning about your broomstick?"

"No, but I'd rather moan about that then anything else," Harry said, pulling out his Astronomy homework. "Hermione's cat ate Ron's rat and now neither of them are talking to each other."

Malfoy paused. "This wasn't close to New Year's, was it?" he asked. When Harry nodded: "I heard that racket all the way down to the Hippogriff paddock!"

"It wasn't much better at ground zero," Harry said.

"So we're going to change the subject," Ross said. "Potential topics are listening to Malfoy go on about Hippogriffs, discussing charging admission for students from other houses to see mermaids, or helping me with Herbology homework. Please say the last one."

Harry had an easy enough solution for that one, and within a few moments Neville was going over Ross's Herbology homework with a fine-toothed comb. That done, Harry looked at the books Malfoy was going over.

"More on Hippogriffs?" Harry asked.

"It's an extra-credit assignment," Malfoy said, scribbling down a few more lines. "It's part of the whole getting a Hippogriff as a pet thing. Hopefully I'm almost done."

Snips yipped, flew down when he finished, dragged his parchment away.

"Hey!" Malfoy barked—winced when Madame Pince shushed him.

"He does this," Harry said. "He likes checking people's homework over."

Malfoy made a face at that, continued to make faces as Snips marked his paper all up.

"Why is all of this crossed out?" he demanded once he got it back. "That was good stuff!"

Snips started to engage in his charades—yipped and flew away, came back with Luna, Colin, and Fitzherbert in tow.

"According to Snips," Luna said, reading what Fitzherbert had catalogued once everyone budged up a bit to let them in. "'Your paper is too wordy, aim for concise. You're showing you can copy from the book but you're not showing that you actually understand the concepts. You're asked to say things in your own words to show that you understand what it was you learned.'"

"So I have to write this all over," Malfoy said. Snips nodded, yipped something else for Fitzherbert to jot down.

"'Writing it the second time helps because you focus on the important points,'" Luna read. "Oh, no wonder I always hear about second drafts! That's nice."

"I like to write first drafts myself," Colin said. "But I also like to think about it a lot before I write."

"Whatever works."

Blaise seemed to be debating about something, tapped his quill to get Snips' attention. "I'm going to need my Transfiguration homework looked at when you get a chance—something went wrong, but I'm not sure what."

Snips nodded, marked up Blaise's homework next, then Ross's once he and Neville finished going over Herbology and Neville moved on to discussing Luna's Herbology homework with her.

Sitting there and working on his own homework, it occurred to Harry that students from three different houses were sitting together and getting along just fine, that Malfoy was sitting next to him and being perfectly civil, and Blaise Zabini, whom he barely knew, was interacting fine with Gryffindors and Ravenclaws (well, one Ravenclaw). It felt like something noteworthy, he just couldn't put his finger on it.

"Maybe it's a part of growing up?" Harry asked later—he and Malfoy had walked down to Hagrid's, Malfoy to turn in his paper and move on to the Hippogriffs, Harry to visit Hagrid for tea.

"Getting' along's an important part o' growth, I think," Hagrid said, checking the treacle tart before putting it on the table. "From the sounds of it Ron and Hermione could use somma that—could hear their row all the way down here."

"That's what Malfoy said—Ron's really upset, and I think Hermione's so stressed out about her schedule that she can't take anything else."

"Aye, she's looking a little frazzled," Hagrid said, putting the tea on a hothand on the table before sticking his head out the back door. "Oi, Malfoy! Git in here and warm up a bit, have some tea afore you finish."

Harry was further surprised by Malfoy's continued behavior, couldn't take it for much longer as they trudged up to the castle—still civilly.

"Can I ask you something without you taking it the wrong way?" Harry asked him.

"I can't guarantee anything," Malfoy muttered.

"It's just…um…you're behaving differently than last year. I don't have a problem with it, I much prefer being able to chat but…why?"

Malfoy stopped, glaring at the snow.

"Last year…those last couple of months sucked," Malfoy said finally. "And then coming home…well, father didn't like the blow to his image, and…let's just say I don't have the energy to live up to the image he wants me to be this year."

Harry nodded—he could get that. "I kind of thought it was because you were spending so much time with the Hippogriffs."

"That too," Malfoy said, kicking at a snow drift as he continued on the little path in the snow. "You can't really be lousy around them, you have to behave yourself otherwise they don't like it and won't let you near them. And I guess I don't have any energy left for keeping up the whole Malfoy heir image in between taking care of them and studying. And…maybe I like them because I know how to act around them—there's set rules, and you don't have to worry about them changing them on you. How they behave to certain stimuli stays the same—there's no surprises, or…."

Malfoy trailed off as they kicked the snow from their boots and went in the castle, Snuffles bounding up to them.

"You know where you stand with animals," Harry guessed. "They love you for you and you don't have to guess or anything."

"I guess so," Malfoy said—narrowed his eyes at him. "But no telling anyone I told you any of this."

"Gryffindor's honor."

"And what's that worth?"

Harry considered. "A trip into Slytherin dorm to see the mermaids."

Malfoy made a face. "Are you sure you're not a Slytherin? Maybe everyone was right about you last year."

"Except being the heir of Slytherin meant I was siccing a big snake on people," Harry pointed out. "But the sorting hat did think I'd do well in Slytherin, so I don't know."

He also didn't know what to think about Snuffles apparently faking a heart attack and keeling over. It took a few moments of staring blankly at him before deciding what to say.

"Play dead. Good boy."

Which was apparently the right thing to say, since Snuffles did that sort of wheezing dog laugh again and wagged his tail.