Sirius's son

Patronuses and death of a pet

"... do you mean, strip it down?" Said Harry, aghast.

"It may take a while, especially with the blanket, but your safety always comes first." Said Professor McGonagall sternly, her hand outstretched, Harry, Eliza and Rigel passed over their Firebolts with obvious reluctance.

"If they are not dangerous, you will have them back, as good as new." Without another word the Head of House left the common room. Ron and Harry waited only seconds before they rounded on Hermione.

"What did you go running to McGonagall for?" Said Ron angrily.

"Hermione!" Eliza groaned. "I only had it for a few hours and now it's gone!"

Hermione threw her book aside. She was still pink in the face, but stood up and faced Ron defiantly.

"Because I thought — and Professor McGonagall agrees with me — that that broom was probably sent to them by Sirius Black!"

"I don't know whether to feel offended or not." Rigel spoke.

Ron however was furious with Hermione. As far as he was concerned, the stripping-down of three brand new Firebolts was nothing less than criminal damage. Hermione, who remained convinced that she had acted for the best, started avoiding the common room. Harry and Ron had ganged up while Eliza and Hermione believed that what Hermione did was right leaving poor Rigel in the middle.

"Focus Eliza." Rigel encouraged. They were in an empty classroom and Eliza had been asking him for Patronus lessons which Rigel was kind enough to do. He would've thought Lupin would be kind enough to teach Eliza but the man was reluctant to do so. "Positive memories."

"What do you think I'm doing?" she gritted out.

"Think about something funny. What about that prank where you changed Harry's voice?" he asked.

Eliza smiled. "Expecto Patronum!"

Something whooshed suddenly out of the end of her wand; it looked like a wisp of silvery gas. Eliza tiredly grinned wiping sweat off her forehead. "I did it!"

"Excellent!" Rigel beamed at Eliza. "Very good, now I wish we had a dementor to practice on..." he mused. "Here have some chocolate? Your magical core must be tired of all that."

Ravenclaw played Slytherin a week after the start of term. Slytherin won, though narrowly. According to Wood, this was good news for Gryffindor, who would take second place if they beat Ravenclaw too. He, therefore, increased the number of team practices to five a week.

He also noticed that Hermione's immense workload finally seemed to be getting to her. Every night, without fail, Hermione was to be seen in a corner of the common room, several tables spread with books, Arithmancy charts, rune dictionaries, diagrams of Muggles lifting heavy objects, and file upon file of extensive notes; she barely spoke to anybody and snapped when she was interrupted.

"How do you think she's doing it?" Rigel muttered to Eliza one evening in the common room as Hermione passed them.

"Do what?"

"Oh come one don't tell me you also didn't notice it."

"You think I didn't notice?" Eliza asked rasisng an eyebrow.

"Oh well sorry, but how does she manage that? Arithmancy and divination are at that same time and Harry has told me that she never missed a lesson!" he shook his head frustratingly "It's like she has a time machine!"

January faded imperceptibly into February, with no change in the bitterly cold weather. The match against Ravenclaw was drawing nearer and nearer and at the end of the lessons, McGongall gave them back their brooms.

"I can have it back?" Harry said weakly. "Seriously?"

"Seriously," said Professor McGonagall, and she was actually smiling. "I daresay you'll need to get the feel of it before Saturday's match, won't you? And Potter, Black —do try and win, won't you? Or we'll be out of the running for the eighth year in a row, as Professor Snape was kind enough to remind me only last night..."

Speechless, the three carried the Firebolt back upstairs toward Gryffindor Tower grinning from ear to ear. They met Ron and when they reached the entrance to Gryffindor Tower, they saw Neville Longbottom, pleading with Sir Cadogan, who seemed to be refusing him entrance.

"I wrote them down!" Neville was saying tearfully. "But I must've dropped them somewhere!"

"A likely tale!" roared Sir Cadogan. Then, spotting Harry, Ron and Rigel: "Good even, my fine young yeomen! Come clap this loon in irons. He is trying to force entry to the chambers within!"

"Oh, shut up," said Ron as he, Rigel, and Harry drew level with Neville.

"I've lost the passwords!" Neville told them miserably. "I made him tell me what passwords he was going to use this week, because he keeps changing them, and now I don't know what I've done with them!"

"Oddsbodkins," said Harry to Sir Cadogan, who looked extremely disappointed and reluctantly swung forward to let them into the common room. There was a sudden, excited murmur as every head turned and the next moment, the two boys were surrounded by people exclaiming over their Firebolts.

After ten minutes or so, during which the Firebolt was Passed around and admired from every angle, the crowd dispersed and Harry and Ron had a clear view of Hermione and Eliza, the only people who hadn't rushed over to them. Hermione was bent over her work and carefully avoiding their eyes though she seemed to catch Rigel's more often. Harry andRon approached her table and at last, she looked up.

"I got it back," said Harry, grinning at her and holding up the Firebolt.

"See, Hermione? There wasn't anything wrong with it!" said Ron.

"Well — there might have been!" said Hermione. "I mean, at least you know now that it's safe!"

"Yeah, I suppose so," Rigel. "We better put them upstairs Harry."

"I'll take them!" said Ron eagerly. "I've got to give Scabbers his rat tonic."

"I'll take mine upstairs," Eliza said.

Ron took the Firebolts and, holding them as if they were made of glass, carried it away up the boys' staircase. Then a strangled yell echoed down the boys' staircase. The whole common room fell silent, staring, petrified, at the entrance. Then came hurried footsteps, growing louder and louder – and then Ron came leaping into view, dragging with him a bedsheet.

"LOOK!" he bellowed, striding over to Hermione's table. "LOOK!" he yelled, shaking the sheets in her face.

"Ron, what -?"

"SCABBERS! LOOK! SCABBERS!"

There was something red on it. Something that looked horribly like -

"BLOOD!" Ron yelled into the stunned silence. "HE'S GONE! AND YOU KNOW WHAT WAS ON THE FLOOR?"

"N - no," said Hermione in a trembling voice.

Ron threw something down onto Hermione's rune translation. Hermione, Harry, and Rigel leaned forward. Lying on top of the weird, spiky shapes were several long, ginger cat hairs.

"Oh." Eliza eventually said. "Fuck."