Hogwarts: Proficiency Panel

Chapter 494 495: Crookshanks

Because of a certain young wizard's recent birthday, the group had returned to

London much earlier than usual. Consequently, the task of purchasing new school

supplies was moved up the schedule.

With only three weeks left of summer break, Diagon Alley was beginning to swell

with Hogwarts students. Inside Quality Quidditch Supplies, Sean spotted two

fellow Gryffindors—Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas—staring longingly at what

appeared to be a brand-new broomstick.

Outside Flourish and Blotts, Sean ran into Neville Longbottom, who stammered

that he thought he might have arrived too early. Sean gave him a small,

reassuring smile and suggested that "too early" was the perfect time for a

raspberry sundae.

But it wasn't just Neville who had arrived ahead of schedule. Outside Florean

Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour, Ron Weasley's freckles were as prominent as ever,

and Hermione Granger was looking quite tan from her holidays. Both were waving

frantically at them.

"Morning, Sean! Morning, Neville!" Ron grinned, sliding into a chair with

practiced ease. "Where's Harry? I mean, he's staying right here in the Alley,

isn't he?"

The words had barely left his mouth when Harry's voice rang out from the

distance. "You're all here!"

As Harry hurried toward them, Justin Finch-Fletchley also appeared from a nearby

shop, looking pleased to see the group reunited.

"Harry," Hermione began, her tone shifting into her "prefect-in-training"

seriousness. "Did you... did you really blow up your aunt?"

The question piqued everyone's curiosity.

"It wasn't me," Harry said simply.

In front of Minister Fudge, Harry hadn't bothered to explain. He had figured

that if someone had to be punished, it was better it be him than Sean—after all,

Sean had only been trying to help. But in front of his friends, he was honest.

"Blimey, what kind of spell was it? Can I learn it?" Ron asked, sounding

impressed.

"It's not a joke, Ron!" Hermione snapped. "Honestly, you..." She turned to Sean,

her eyes narrowed with suspicion. "How did the Ministry not catch you on the

spot?"

"Sean used his grandfather's wand," Harry muttered. That was why the Trace had

pointed to Harry instead of the "true" caster.

But Harry couldn't help wondering—if he hadn't been there, would the Ministry

have even been able to track the magic? It seemed his presence had only made

things more complicated.

"Grandfather?" Hermione blinked, looking as confused as Justin. They both

distinctly remembered that Sean was supposed to be an orphan.

"Well, anyway, I heard they didn't punish you," Ron said, shrugging it off. "I

suppose that's because it's you two, isn't it? The famous Harry Potter and...

well, I can't imagine what the Ministry would do to me if I blew up an aunt.

They'd have to dig me up first, 'cause Mum would've killed me on the spot.

Anyway, you can ask my dad yourself tonight. We're staying at the Leaky Cauldron

too! Dad said we could spend a few days in the Alley before term starts."

"Brilliant!" Harry said. "So, should we go for books first, or equipment?"

The group instinctively turned to Sean. He seemed miles away, his mind clearly

preoccupied with the ritualistic components required to stabilize his new

Blinding Curse.

"How about we go for a pet first?" Hermione suggested. "I really want an owl.

Harry has Hedwig, and you have Errol—"

"I don't," Ron corrected her. "Errol is a family owl. I only have Scabbers." He

pulled the pet rat out of his pocket. "I wanted to get him checked out,

actually. He's been acting a bit peaky ever since we got back from Egypt."

Scabbers looked thinner than usual, and his whiskers were drooping noticeably.

Justin looked at Sean and smiled. Sean closed his book and gave a nod. "Let's

head off then. I believe..."

"You were going to say there's a pet shop right over there?" Harry finished.

Having spent days in the Alley, he knew the layout by heart. "You can see if

they have anything for Scabbers, and Hermione can find her owl."

"Right! That's the one!" Ron said, snapping his fingers.

After paying for their ice creams, the group crossed the street to the Magical

Menagerie. The shop was cramped and narrow, with cages stacked floor-to-ceiling.

The air was thick with a pungent animal smell and a cacophony of squeaks,

chirps, and hisses.

The witch behind the counter was busy advising a wizard on the care of

double-tailed newts, so the group waited, examining the various creatures. Two

massive purple toads sat in a corner, swallowing blowflies with disgusting

slurps. A giant tortoise with a jewel-encrusted shell sat near the window, and

poisonous orange snails crawled slowly up the side of their glass tank.

On the counter sat a large cage filled with sleek black rats that were playing a

high-speed skipping game with their long, bald tails.

When the other wizard left, Ron stepped up to the counter. "It's my rat," he

told the witch. "He's been a bit off-color since I brought him back from Egypt."

"Put him on the counter," the witch said, pulling a pair of heavy black

spectacles from her pocket.

Ron pulled Scabbers out and set him down next to the cage of black rats. The

skipping rats immediately stopped their game and crowded against the wire,

staring down at Scabbers with apparent disdain.

Scabbers, like almost everything Ron owned, was a hand-me-down—originally

belonging to Ron's older brother, Percy. Compared to the glossy black rats in

the cage, he looked battered and pathetic.

"Hmm," the witch said, picking Scabbers up. "How old is this rat?"

"Don't know," Ron said. "He's old. He used to be my brother's."

"What does he do? Any talents?" she asked, examining him closely.

"Er—" Ron stammered. The truth was, Scabbers had never shown even the slightest

hint of talent or interest in anything.

The witch's gaze moved from Scabbers's tattered left ear to his front paw,

noting the missing toe. She clicked her tongue loudly. "This rat has been

through the wars," she said.

"He was like that when Percy gave him to me," Ron said defensively.

"A common rat or a garden rat like this usually only lives about three years,"

the witch said. "Look, if you want something that lasts a bit longer, you might

want to pick one of these..." She pointed to the black rats, who immediately

resumed their skipping.

"Show-offs," Ron muttered.

"Well, if you don't want to replace him, you could try some of this Rat Tonic,"

the witch said, reaching under the counter for a small red bottle.

"Right," Ron said. "How much—OUCH!"

A massive, ginger-furred beast suddenly leaped from the top of the highest cage,

landing squarely on Ron's head and nearly knocking him over. The beast hissed,

baring its teeth and glaring at Scabbers with terrifying intensity.

"No, Crookshanks! Down!" the witch yelled, but Scabbers had already squeezed out

of her hands like a bar of soap. He hit the floor and bolted for the door.

"Scabbers!" Ron yelled, tearing out of the shop after him. Harry followed close

behind.

Hermione, however, stayed behind, staring at the huge, ginger,

bottle-brush-tailed cat. She turned to Sean and Justin, a small smile playing on

her lips.

"I like this cat," she said.

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