Chapter 34
"Harry, you... um, well, please forgive me and my mother... She can be... a little loud and tactless," Ginny Weasley apologized to me nervously and disjointedly, having run to talk to me immediately after being discharged from the hospital wing. "And, well... thank you for helping with that notebook. The Headmaster explained to me that it was a very dangerous dark artifact..."
"It's nothing, Ginny," I smiled softly at the Gryffindor, calmly moving slightly to the side. So that the girl could sit down at the Ravenclaw dining table without any problems... This is almost not forbidden—the house-elves serve breakfast to a student regardless of where they sit anyway. "It's rather me who needs to apologize. After all, I was the one who accidentally took that diary from you, ultimately not even returning it immediately... To be honest, I feel awkward that it turned out this way."
"I-it's nothing! Everything ended well, after all... And I really did start to feel better after I lost the diary..." reacting exactly to my expectations, the red-haired girl hastened to wave off my apologies... Whose magic, after parting with the artifact and practically two weeks spent in the hospital, really did begin to feel much more distinct. Ginny had suddenly become seemingly thirty percent stronger than before.
Which not only confirms my past—in reality, not very confident and simply flimsy—assumptions that it was precisely because of the horcrux that the youngest Weasley felt like quite a weak witch to me, but also convinces me that I acted as correctly as possible in any case by deciding to get rid of the lord's horcrux as soon as possible.
No matter what fate awaited that horcrux next—even if they never destroy it, I will definitely not regret giving it to Flitwick. In the end, I did everything possible on my part, and further contact with Voldemort's diary could have ended in serious problems for me.
I definitely will not risk my own magic, even if the opportunity to destroy one of the dark lord's horcruxes is at stake. I have become too attached and drawn to all this magic to allow even a minimal risk of losing my own magic. I wouldn't want to return to the gray everyday life of an ordinary person now even under torture... Well, except for rare bouts of longing for my past life.
"I'm glad you're alright..." having finished with the mental analysis of the situation, I returned to the conversation with Ginny, at the same time stroking the fluffy kneazle comfortably settled at my feet, who for the past few weeks had been accompanying me to breakfasts, lunches, and dinners all the time. "And don't worry about your mother. Even if I'm not used to such things, but... sincere gratitude is not something I could get seriously angry or offended by."
"Um, glad to hear that," the young Gryffindor lowered her gaze to the table, still a little guilty and awkward, immediately bumping into the breakfast brought to her by the house-elves. "Then... maybe you can tell me what happened in the school while I was gone?"
"Well, we have no special news. And the ones we do have—Luna and I already told you during our visits to the hospital wing," I shrugged carelessly, immediately twitching in slight surprise... Milo dug his claws right into my thigh, forcing me to get distracted from the conversation for a moment, and then—to follow the gaze of this fluffy bandit.
"Ho!? Has Ron really finally dragged his pseudo-pet into the Great Hall?" realizing what was happening, I instantly tensed up, stroking my cat's scruff a little soothingly, and then throwing a quick glance towards the teachers' table.
Some professors were not in their places—Ron, as always, arrived right towards the end of breakfast, which is why the likes of Snape and Lockhart had already run off on their business, and the Runes teacher hadn't come to breakfast today either, but... the moment still seemed quite opportune to me. The only problem was that I was still not entirely confident in my own magical skills—the spell for reverse Animagus transformation was still coming out with some difficulty for me. It is complex, archaic, and is not studied in the school curriculum...
Except that... Ron brings his pet to the Great Hall too rarely. So rarely that during all the time of my careful surveillance of this slob, this was only the second time he had dragged his rat here... Which, of course, does not exclude the fact that he could have carried Pettigrew with him more often—I hadn't really monitored Ron much before this, preferring to solve problems as they arose and not wanting to unnecessarily strain the possible paranoia of the Animagus, but... it happens too rarely anyway for me to hesitate for too long.
Besides, holding Milo back was still quite difficult for me in the end. My cat may be magical—and therefore almost as smart as a five-year-old child, but... while I was able to convince him that it would be very good for all of us if he caught the strange rat of a certain red-haired Gryffindor, I had some problems organizing the exact time of this very capture. Milo is still not so smart and trained to obediently obey an "attack" command...
And therefore, I ultimately just had to let him go from my lap, allowing him to begin the hunt for the rat-mage so unpleasant to me. Not that a regular kneazle had any serious chances of catching an experienced Animagus at all, but... my cat's antic could not go unnoticed in any case. After all, Ron's rat was sitting right next to his plate—straight on the Gryffindor common table, and therefore, for the sake of his hunt, my fluffy pet had to jump onto this very table.
Jumping quite carefully, deftly, and almost imperceptibly—the wizards, accustomed to various kinds of antics from their pets, didn't even immediately pay extra attention to my Milo, but... While I was quite successfully pretending that nothing was happening, continuing to chat with Ginny and Luna who had joined the conversation, the cat did his job—suddenly attacking the Animagus rat, simultaneously knocking over several people's plates in the process of his jump.
"Damn it, Ron, what the hell is going on with you again!?" which, naturally, simply could not go unnoticed. The crack of broken plates, as well as the subsequent shouts of the lion cubs, instantly drew all the attention in the hall, giving me a legal opportunity to follow the fleeting chase with all my eyes...
Pettigrew, if it really was him—it was somewhat inconvenient for me to open the Marauder's Map right now—managed to dodge my cat's first attack, darting somewhere under the table. After Milo followed him, literally skidding from the speed and his claws slipping on the stonework, the rat bolted so fast that it was simply impossible to keep track of it in all this commotion!
"Damn Animagus! They write about them correctly in books... no ordinary rat—even one living surrounded by magic—could simply reach such speed," I swore angrily and with satisfaction, immediately getting up from my seat and rushing towards the other table.
"Milo, stop! What the hell are you doing!?" I scolded my cat quite sincerely, thereby attracting even more attention to what was happening and helping Ron finally process everything going on.
"Damn it, Potter! Stop your beast already before it devours Scabbers!" the redhead exclaimed somewhat panickily, also jumping out from behind the table and hastily trying to catch up with his pet and my cat.
He wasn't very successful at it... And the other students were getting in the way, looking indignantly at this whole performance and trying to somehow kick the pair of furry troublemakers who were rushing right under the dining table, frequently brushing against people's legs. Well, more accurately, it was like that right up until Weasley's mangy rat reached its owner, climbing up his pant leg straight to his stomach in a matter of moments, where Ron already caught his pet, covering the rat with his hands so that Milo definitely wouldn't reach it.
"There, there, boy, calm down a bit... You've already done an excellent job anyway," so, it was my time to intervene in the situation, demonstratively trying to stop my pet.
Which, however, did not prevent him from pouncing on Ron anyway, sinking his claws into his hands. And how he sank them in—Weasley even squealed in pain and shock, almost dropping his rat from his hands... Although Pettigrew, it seemed, was already trying to break free from his Owner's tenacious grip himself, fearing for his life, which was so relentlessly threatened by the sharp claws of my kneazle.
"Oh, damn it!" I swore angrily, pointing my wand at Ron and the unruly pair of animals, and then immediately trying to pronounce the spell known to me as quietly as possible... Which was not so simple—my attempts to muffle my own words to the maximum only added difficulty to an already not-so-simple spell, but... in the end, everything worked out!
Milo, wildly meowing and hissing, flew away from Ron in my direction. Weasley himself, croaking something, finally fell off his feet, a moment later finding himself buried under... the massive body of some plump and balding freak, who literally buried his "owner" beneath himself, simultaneously causing a simply wild surge of panic and screams at the Gryffindor table.
"Yes! Yes-yes-yes, damn it, yes!" I almost exclaimed from an excess of emotions, stepping back somewhat hastily from the dangerous Animagus scum and noticing out of the corner of my eye how the teachers were alarmed at their table...
If before this they had been glancing in our direction, wanting to stop overly rambunctious students just in case, but still not showing particular interest—in a school full of wizards, some kind of bedlam happens almost every day—right now... McGonagall, as the person most closely watching her house, was the first to react to what happened, turning into a cat for a moment—in order to jump over the wide professor's table, and then ran up to Pettigrew, who was just starting to come to his senses, at a very decent speed.
Seriously! I never thought that this generally not young woman was even capable of running with such speed and grace! Was she a short-distance sprint champion in her youth, or am I still missing something in this life!? Most likely the latter, but... it doesn't matter anyway. The main thing is—at least someone managed to react to the fat and frankly creepy wizard who suddenly appeared right in the middle of the dining hall.
And react exactly as I could only dream of—just in case, hitting the creepy man who had knocked the second-year to the ground with some particularly lethal paralyzing curse. Peter over there didn't even have time to properly squeak before he found himself under the effect of someone else's spell, and then... that same fragile and harmless-looking Transfiguration professor grabbed him by the scruff of the neck with her left hand and literally yanked him off her ward in one movement, seemingly instantly becoming a true hero and savior for him. And at the same time, exposing the face of the vile rat for everyone to see...
"Eh!? And isn't that Peter Pettigrew?" after which Filius Flitwick immediately identified him, once again earning a wave of sympathy from my side and simply... pulling that very trigger, after which this whole situation sharply turned into absolute hell and chaos!
Good thing McGonagall's spell turned out to be surprisingly reliable. Even when the Headmaster and other Hogwarts professors ran up to the unlicensed Animagus, he still couldn't even make a peep, let alone turn into a rat and try to run away.
Although, where would he go now? We have the Head of Gryffindor here remaining as vigilant as ever, seemingly intending to chase Peter the rat even in her own Animagus form if necessary. And he definitely wouldn't be able to get away from that. Given everything demonstrated earlier, I now don't doubt Minerva McGonagall's abilities at all... Beginning to suspect that before her teaching at Hogwarts, she was someone like an Auror or something even cooler.
The way this woman reacts quickly and promptly to possible dangers to her students is truly impressive. How last year she was the one who dealt with Quirrell. How this year she captured Pettigrew faster than the Headmaster could even focus his eyes... She's downright a retired Superwoman, by God.
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