Lucy Riddle and the Boy Who Lived

Harry's Cat

Chapter Thirty-One

Lucy realized that the Grim wasn't meant for her. It was for Albus Dumbledore.

She watched as the Ministry of Magic towed his body abroad to Hogwarts where he would be entombed a day before the student's return to Hogwarts. It had been announced that everyone was invited to the funeral on August 31.

Lucy couldn't stop the salty tears from rolling down her cheeks. Dumbledore had kept her safe from her evil father. He had made sure her wand was returned to her. Dumbledore was the only person whom the Dark Lord feared, and now he was able to roam freely. No one was safe anymore.

Lucy stared at the departing Ministry car that held the man. It zoomed away, leaving a trail of dust in its wake. There would be stories, there would be rumors about this death. But what would be true, and what would be a rumor?

The absolute truth was this: the man who could've solved the Wizarding world's most troublesome problem was dead.

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It was two days before Dumbledore's funeral. The four wanted to come earlier. Just as they were about to head out to Hogwarts, the Weasley family came outside.

Lucy didn't want to attend the school anymore. She couldn't face the new headmaster or headmistress. After Umbridge, she'd rather drop out. She couldn't handle the stress; she couldn't handle another person who believed that everything Dumbledore did was wrong.

She had a mission to complete.

Fred was slowly making his way towards her. He pulled her into his chest, wiping away a stray tear. Fred cooed, "Shh, it's going to be okay. Dumbledore will always be here. He's never gone. Only when people stop believing in him, then he will be truly gone."

He kissed her. Their tongues meshed together, fighting for control. She dominated him, but he let her. This wasn't just a regular kiss they usually shared — this was different. It was full of raw emotions; full of sadness and anger and guilt.

Lucy's tears fell onto his long eyelashes, and Fred's breath fanned her skin. Her fingers were tangled at the nape of his neck; his fingers were twisted around her hair. With one last peck on the lips, they released each other.

"I'll see you tomorrow," Fred whispered.

"Will you be waiting for me?" Lucy asked.

"Always."

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Lucy walked away from him with her trunk in one hand, hugging the rest of his family before climbing aboard the Knight Bus. By the time they slowed, the four were at King's Cross, boarding the Hogwarts Express with the rest of the students.

They were all waiting for something. Probably someone to pop out of the shadows and shout, "Jokes on you! Dumbledore is still alive and ready to fight!" but no one came out. There was nothing that showed that he was still alive.

Lucy was ready to give up for the day. She just wanted to sleep and finally take a break. For a year now she's been stressing and pulling her hair at almost every waking moment, hoping for the war to be over, and people to be safe.

She waited for the Express to come. It took its time coming to the station like it too couldn't believe Dumbledore was gone; gone from the world; gone from the universe; gone from the people who needed him.

Lucy sighed as she dragged her trunk behind her. There were a few faces she recognized, otherwise she saw nothing. Death was watching her every move, ready to pounce on any of the friends she cared most.

She found an empty carriage for her and the Golden Trio to sit in. They settled in, placing their pets either beside them or above with their trunks. Styx was in her cage. Lucy was holding onto the owl's cage like her life depended on it. Her knuckles were growing whiter and whiter by the second.

There was silence until Hermione exclaimed, "Where's Crookshanks?"

Lucy's heart dropped. They had probably left Crookshanks back at the Burrow. Hermione was on a frenzy looking for her beloved cat. She searched through every carriage and all her stuff. Crookshanks wasn't on the train.

Hermione felt tears welling up in her eyes. The one thing she needed was Crookshanks to be with her, and she can't even find that bloody cat.

The carriage door opened and in walked Crookshanks with his tail high. He gazed around at the scene. Hermione was bawling her eyes out, and the other three were trying — unsuccessfully — to calm her down.

Crookshanks leaped onto Harry's lap, pawing at his chest. Harry spared him a glance, and then another glance before his eyes bulged out of their sockets.

"I found Crookshanks."

Hermione grabbed the fur ball off his lap and continued to howl into its fur coat. Crookshanks started patting Hermione's nest of hair. He had followed the lot onto the Express but was caught by the attention of a loose piece of thread of a student's robe. Cats love to play around with thread.

"Harry?" Lucy questioned. "Why does Crookshanks like you so much? The first person he goes to, is you. He's not even your cat."

Harry shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know. I must be a lovable human to cats."

Ron rolled his eyes. "Yeah, sure, cats love you, but humans don't."

Harry smacked his shoulder. "You're just jealous that Crookshanks doesn't like you."

Lucy smiled a little. It was like things were getting back to normal. Harry and Ron were arguing again and Hermione was with her cat. Lucy was enjoying this moment. This was like the first time she'd met them.

Crookshanks pawed at the foggy window. He was making circles and lines for a couple of minutes before crawling away back onto Hermione's lap.

The four stared at Crookshanks creation. He really was an intelligent cat. Even Hermione Granger was surprised, and she knew everything. Nothing really surprised her.

Harry was speechless. Lucy would've thought Harry knew about the whole thing. But then she remembered he was very young — only a year old. There was no way Harry could remember such a thing when he could barely remember what happened that night.

Still, they stared at the writing on the train window. The only sounds were Crookshanks's soft purring and the train's engine screaming.

I'M HARRY POTTER'S CAT.