My Life As A Cat

Part 2

We're back home in England. The Grangers are happy and back to being Hermione's parents, which is a very good thing.
Right now, Mrs. Weasley is feeding people at her house. She gave me a sausage, which I'm glad about, because it's delicious and I'm hungry and I forgot how bad the Grangers' dentist-approved, teeth friendly, sugar free cat food actually tastes.
Sirius is there, sitting next to Harry. I'm curled up on his feet, purring contentedly, and he occasionally gives some of his fried potatoes to me. I'm quite sure it's quite obvious to everyone present, even though he's trying to hide it. I like Sirius. Even though he still smells like a wet dog. I can forgive him.
He's still getting quiet every time something related to me (not as a cat, but as a wizard) is brought up by someone. I feel sorry for him. I want to tell him I'm here. Somehow. But I don't know how, and my mind works differently when I'm a cat. So I can't really think a lot.

I have attached myself to my brother's robes again. As I had done so often lately. And we're out in the Weasleys' garden. The gnomes, who reek quite a lot, are tempting me to chase after them, but Sirius is having another in-depth conversation with Harry (about something philosophical that my cat mind can't comprehend, which is a pity, since I know I would be very interested in the subject if I understood it), so I'm not leaving him. He seems pretty sad. And I hear my name.
So I climb his body and sit on his shoulder. I can tell he thinks I'm heavy, however, I don't really care. I wrap my tail gently around his neck and purr. (I still love purring, in case you couldn't tell.)
"So you're absolutely sure?", Sirius asks.
"I did read the note. And Kreacher remembers. You should be proud, Sirius. He died a hero." Harry smiles.
I try not to think about how much Sirius would laugh at me if he knew I permanently turned myself into a ginger cat with a squished pansy face and pat his head with my front paw instead. My claws end up entangled in his long black hair, but who cares. I'm a cat, that's normal.
And again, Sirius remains quiet for a while. Until he asks, "Can we - can we go there?"
Harry looks at him in mild surprise. "I guess", he says quietly. "Yes, we should. It might help you make peace with it."
"Thank you, Harry", Sirius barely even whispers, his voice thick with something he's holding back, and pats Harry's shoulder.
Something in my little brain clicks. The cave. My wand. My ability to turn into a human.
"Tonight?", Harry asks.
Sirius nods half eagerly, half tentatively. "Yes, yes."
I'm certainly not going to let go of Sirius's clothing anytime soon. He'll be forced to take me.