Chapter 48: 3-1

Quidditch season had arrived once again. With Oliver, now a seventh year, radiating a grim determination to clinch the Quidditch Cup, the rest of the team was pushed into a grueling practice schedule. Naturally, Harry, our star Seeker, was out there struggling against the wind and rain. Even if I say so myself... to an outsider, the pace they were keeping was nothing short of reckless.

However, I knew what was coming this year: the Dementor incident. It was such a traumatic event that it stood out as the most vivid memory in the history of Harry Potter’s Quidditch troubles. After all, it was the day his "partner" was smashed to pieces.

That morning, as Harry prepared to head out for practice, I gave him a light kiss on the cheek to send him off. Beside him, the Beater twins chimed in unison, "And what about us, Princess?" I tried to ignore them—only to have them both press a loud, sloppy kiss onto my cheeks before bolting away. ...There was really no way to defend against that, Hermione. So please, stop glaring at me.

"Harry, make sure you don't catch a cold, okay? Though I suppose you’d still look cute with steam coming out of your ears from the Pepperup Potion."

"Maria, you’re really..."

Ron looked at me as if he were staring at a complete eccentric. But you see, unlike the 'me' from my previous life, this Harry is such a sweet, honest boy. I thought you’d understand the protective, "big brother" instinct to dote on a younger sibling. Wait, what? It’s a matter of degree?

After seeing off Harry, who gave me a goofy grin and returned the kiss, my schedule for this Saturday was officially clear. For the time being, I decided to lounge on the sofa—making sure not to disturb Hermione, who was busy studying, then studying some more, and finishing it off with a side of studying. Near my feet, a thick, bottlebrush tail swayed back and forth.

"Good morning, Crookshanks. How are we today?"

I scooped up his rather substantial body and settled him onto my lap. With a face that looked like he had run headfirst into a brick wall, this highly intelligent cat stared at me and began to purr. Once you get used to it, that "cranky" face becomes quite charming. You’re actually pretty cute, aren't you?

"Maria, don't let that beast loose. Scabbers is resting in my bag," Ron grumbled, looking like he wanted to swat Crookshanks then and there. Hermione just scowled in response. No matter the era, Ron always had a knack for putting his foot in his mouth.

As I gave my best friend a wry smile, Crookshanks' eyes suddenly flashed with a predatory glint. I instinctively used my thighs to pin him down. His contented purring had shifted into a low, wary growl.

"Crookshanks. I know, I know. Just stay calm."

I whispered into his tufted ears. His whiskers flickered inches from my face.

Hmm, now, what should I do? Crookshanks was targeting Scabbers for a very specific reason... wait, had he already made contact with Sirius by this point?

"Hey, Crookshanks. Would you like to have a little chat with me?"

"Maria..."

"Hermione, would you mind if I borrowed Crookshanks for a bit? I’d like to talk to him."

"Oh, by all means, do as you like. I wasn't aware my cat spoke human, though," Hermione said dismissively, waving a hand. She was clearly exasperated. Meanwhile, Ron muttered something along the lines of, "If Harry can talk to snakes, I guess it’s not that weird if Maria talks to cats..."

The girls' dormitory was empty, despite it being a Saturday morning. My roommates, Parvati and Lavender, had become devoted followers of Professor Trelawney and were spending all their time in her tower. This was perfect.

I set Crookshanks down on the bed—his back legs dangling limply in my arms until then—and sat down beside him.

"Listen, Crookshanks. I know you’re just as clever as your mistress. So, please tell me—have you met a big black dog lately?"

The bottlebrush tail swayed. I took that as a "yes."

"Did he ask you for a favor? You’re helping him, aren't you?"

A pair of yellow eyes, half-hidden by heavy lids—eyes that looked grumpy to a stranger but endearing once you knew him—peered up at me.

"You’ve realized that both the dog and that rat are 'Animagi.' I understand it, too. And I have a good idea of what the black dog asked you to do."

Crookshanks sat up and batted the back of my hand with a paw. Then why don't we catch him?—he seemed to be protesting. Though, to be fair, his face always looked like he was harboring a grievance against the world.

"There’s a right time for everything. If you take him to Sirius—to the dog—right now, he’ll surely kill the rat. And that would be a problem. No, not for me. It’s necessary to keep the rat alive to eventually clear Sirius’s name."

With those intelligent eyes—which would look like a mere scowl to anyone who didn't know how smart he was—Crookshanks looked up at me. His tail swayed slowly, as if he were weighing my words.

"I won't let things end badly, I promise. So... will you help me out, too, Crookshanks?"

I picked him up again, lifting him until we were eye-to-eye. The cat gave a small, rhythmic huff through his nose.

"For starters, I’d be happy if you’d stop hunting Scabbers. I’ll be keeping a close eye on things. If this keeps up, the relationship between your mistress and Ron—yes, the ginger one—is going to be ruined beyond repair. My nerves can't handle that kind of drama. Right?"

The cat didn't speak, but between the huffing of his nose and his "disappointed-in-humanity" squint, he seemed to be saying, Oh, alright then.

Sirius is a human, so it's expected, but this cat’s eyes are remarkably eloquent as well.

"Thank you, Crookshanks."

Interpreting his silence exactly how I wanted, I laughed and squeezed his paws. Crookshanks just sat there, looking resigned to his fate.

"Oh, and one more thing—I have another favor to ask."

The clever cat hopped off my lap, stretched his tail straight up, and let out a sharp "Meow."

"Well, you’re certainly easy to read..." I said with a wry smile, looking at the dog whose expressions were far too vivid.

His fur, which looked as though he’d been rolling in the mud for years, was currently standing on end in shock. His tail was stiff with confusion.

"Hello, Mr. Stray Black Dog. I brought some chicken. You’ll eat it, right?"

I placed a plate of food I’d nicked from the kitchens onto the ground. It was human food, containing things like onions, but since Sirius is human, he should be fine, right? ...Well, even if it’s not ideal, he’s capable of making that judgment himself.

Perhaps he was less starving than when we met at Magnolia Crescent, as Sirius didn't pounce on the plate immediately. Instead, he watched me, looking less wary and more like he simply didn't know how to react.

I sat down right next to him, settled Crookshanks on my lap, and bit into a sandwich. The ground near the Forbidden Forest wasn't exactly paved, so it made my backside hurt a little.

"It’s okay, no one knows about you... except for me and Crookshanks. Oh, Crookshanks is this little guy. Isn't he a brilliant, wonderful cat? He’s my best friend, and his owner is a terrifyingly smart witch, too. ...Aren't you going to eat?"

Sirius gave a low whine and finally brought his nose to the plate, stealing glances at me all the while.

"Ah, don't be mad at Crookshanks. I forced him to tell me. I asked him to introduce me to the friend he’s been seeing lately. Hey, is it okay if I keep coming to see you? ...I really like you, you know."

I scratched behind his ears. Sirius flickered them and looked at me with troubled eyes.

"Harry’s been so busy with Quidditch practice lately. Oh, did you know? Harry was chosen as the youngest Seeker in a century back in his first year. It’s all thanks to his father’s talent, really."

A tail that couldn't lie suddenly went thump-thump-thump. I gave Sirius a long stroke down his back as his joy radiated through his whole body. Honestly... no matter how many years pass, you still love James, don't you, Sirius? The adults around me are just too full of love. Even Professor Snape—

—Ah, I see. Sirius isn't looking at my face. He's looking at my eyes.

"So, er, what was I saying? Right. I’ve been a bit lonely with no one to talk to. Ron is always with Harry, Hermione is buried in books, I can't see Cedric as often as I'd like because he’s in a different House, and Draco—"

I swallowed the rest of my sentence. Sirius, who had finally started eating, pressed his snout against my palm. He had a bit of mashed potato stuck to the side of his nose; the sight was so un-beastlike that I couldn't help but giggle.

"I wanted to see you."

I mimicked the motion of a wand and whispered, "Scourgify." Not only did the mashed potato vanish, but his coat regained some of its luster.

Actually making it "fluffy" is probably beyond my current skills. I’d really love to give him a proper shampoo with my own two hands, though.

"...Hey, can I give you a hug?"

Sirius gazed into my eyes for a long moment, then, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, he slid his body under my arms and rested his head on my lap. Crookshanks curled up right beside him. I felt a gentle, radiating warmth shared between the two of them and me. I used both hands to pet them both—the dog and the cat.

It was the most peaceful, happy spot of sunlight I had found all day.