My Life As A Cat

Part 1

When Hermione returned and hugged me, I wish I could have done more. But I was just a cat. So I meowed apologetically and gently rubbed my forehead against her thigh when she was sitting on the couch next to Harry. It was all I could do. And I walked over her legs towards Harry and nudged his arm.
Harry had taken him down. He had been defeated. He had finally been defeated. And I would have given anything if I had been able to help. But I was just a cat. Part Kneazle, alright, but that wasn't improving things drastically. Technically, I was still just a cat. A pretty - let's call it unique - looking one, too.

Now I'm curled up on Harry's knees, facing Hermione, and started purring. Purring is relaxing. Your whole body vibrates when you purr. Perks of being a cat.
The word 'Horcrux' is mentioned. In an instant, I'm up. Ron is shooting me a suspicious look, and I give him my deadly glare in return. Thankfully, being a cat does not restrict your ability to do the deadly glare, which I am very grateful for.
I sit down between Harry and Hermione and listen. They're talking to a number of people. Ginny, who keeps smiling at Harry - how adorable - her Mum, Lupin, a blue-haired baby, Ron's eldest brother, the one with the scars on his face, not Sirius (Sirius called me smart, which I appreciate), and, well, other people. They're all listening.
"Your cat is adorable", says a blonde woman, who just entered, to Hermione, bends over and pets my head. I wish I was physically able to roll my eyes. I'm trying to listen, my friend. I hiss at her. She's cooing at me and sits down in front of the couch so she can keep on getting on my nerves. I stand up, with my tail as high up in the air as it can be, and strut away. Damn idiots. I hide under the couch. Leave me be, sweet Merlin.
They're telling a story about Horcruxes. They're talking about everything they did during the past months. Starting with the cave. These two idiots went there, almost died, found the fake locket (could've told you that) and then one of them actually died. It's a bit confusing. Still, I can't help but feel responsible for Dumbledore's death until Harry says he would have died anyway due to having been wise enough to put a Horcrux on his wrinkly old finger. Alright, so I even helped him shorten the time span during which he suffered. Right?
Hermione starts talking about the note. That's where things get interesting. I laugh (internally because cat) as Harry explains how it took them ages to find out who R. A. B. was, but Lupin instantly knows when they mention it. Should have asked him in the first place.
"So Regulus Black stole a Horcrux?", he gasps.
Damn right. Why is everyone so surprised.
"The real Horcrux had been at Grimmauld Place all the time. Kreacher hadn't managed to destroy it. At first he refused to hand it to us."
Of course Kreacher hadn't managed to destroy it. Silly me, believing a sodding House Elf would be able to handle a Horcrux.
Hermione continues. "We finally managed to trade it against the fake one with the note in it. Kreacher has been missing his Master Regulus a lot, you see, and we promised him to finish his work."
"Does Sirius know?", Lupin asks.
Listen up. Here it comes.
"I tried to tell him at the Cottage. He didn't say anything", Harry shrugs.
"He loved his brother a lot", Lupin says quietly.
Oh, is that so, really? It would have helped not to ignore him for years, then. But hey, I'm just the cat. No need to ask my opinion.
"He didn't talk for days after he heard Regulus went missing."
I would have loved to witness that. Sirius shutting up for once.
I mean, it wouldn't have been necessary if my plan had worked the way it was supposed to. But still.
"We took turns in wearing the locket, since it seemed to bring out the worst in us if we got too close to it", Hermione explains.
What an impressively astute observation. Horcruxes, which happen to be one of the darkest things magic can produce, make you moody. Chapeau, you three. Generally I think I would have been able to cut the time things took them in half. What a pity I'm just the cat.
And in that very moment, Sirius enters. I would have sighed if I had human vocal chords.
"What are you plotting?", he jokes. Annoying piece of -
Oh, I can't restrain myself from darting towards him and digging my claws into his trousers so he can't remove me. Out of all people, Sirius is the one I hate the least. (That's a compliment.)
He limps in the direction of the chair next to Lupin, his right leg heavy because I got comfortable on it, and takes a seat.
"We're talking about our journey", Hermione explains.
Ron is eating biscuits.
"They've been talking about - your brother's note. Harry told you about it, didn't he?", Lupin asks softly.
And, miraculously, truly, Sirius says nothing. I'm impressed, actually. I never thought I'd live to witness this. Mostly because nobody ever believed it was possible.
Wait. Is Sirius sad? This wasn't supposed to happen. I climb his leg and sit on his thigh, poking his side. He looks down on me (like he always did) and smiles. I rub my head against his stomach, provoking the crowd to make 'awwww' sounds.
"'ow adorable", purrs the blonde woman from earlier. I take a second to glare at her so she knows I am not, in fact, adorable.
Sirius starts to pet me, and I cuddle him like I used to when we were little. Even though he smells like a wet dog.