171: Chapter 171 The Rat Disappearance Scandal

"Your cat is crazy, Granger!"

When Ron's voice crashed over from the Gryffindor table, Draco was cutting a piece of roasted potato.

His hand jerked, and the tip of his knife hit the plate, making a harsh sound.

Crabbe looked up, Goyle looked up too, and Pansy immediately wrinkled her nose.

"Is Weasley performing his poor family pet dispute again?" Draco put down his knife and spoke deliberately loudly, "If you lose a rat, you can just go to the sewer and catch another one."

Allen sat next to him, his book page suspended in mid-air, "Shut up."

Draco's face stiffened, "I only said one sentence."

"Once you speak, Harry will look over. When Harry looks over, Hermione will look too. Then you'll drag the cat, the rat, Scabbers, and Gryffindor all into a stupid sentence."

Zabini leaned back in his chair, spinning the candy box between his fingers, "He really would."

Draco glared at Zabini and finally shoved the roasted potato into his mouth, mumbling something indistinct.

At the Gryffindor table, Ron was clutching his school robe pocket, his face turning red. Hermione stood opposite him, holding a large ginger cat in her arms. Crookshanks' tail was swinging slowly, his face flat, eyes fixed on the hem of Ron's school robe, claws tightening on Hermione's arm.

"Crookshanks just smelled Scabbers." Hermione suppressed her anger, "It didn't bite it."

"It almost dragged Scabbers out of my pocket!" Ron flipped open his pocket to show Harry, "Look, the fur was even pulled out! Scabbers won't even eat treacle fudge now!"

Harry was caught in the middle, still holding his fork, "Ron, maybe Crookshanks was just..."

"Just trying to eat it!" Ron interrupted him, "Don't speak for her. She has let this cat chase Scabbers since school started."

Hermione hugged Crookshanks tighter, "It's very smart, it wouldn't chase things for no reason."

Allen closed his book.

Nott moved over from the side table, holding a small piece of parchment, "Crookshanks has chased that Weasley rat three times. The first time on the Third Floor stairs, the second time at the Library entrance, and the third time today in the Great Hall."

Draco almost choked on the potato in his mouth, "You even record cats chasing rats?"

Nott looked down and wrote, "A cat chasing an ordinary rat requires no recording. A cat locking onto the same replaced rat three times is worth recording."

Draco immediately shut his mouth. He thought of Christmas Eve, and also of the real Peter still locked in Allen's Portable Space.

Zabini snapped the candy box shut, "Is there a problem with the fake Scabbers?"

"It's reacting normally." Allen pressed his fingertips against the spine of the book, "The problem is the cat."

Hermione left from the side of the long table with Crookshanks in her arms. The cat's head turned, accurately crossing several tables to look toward the Slytherin side. Those yellow eyes stopped near Allen's cuff, then moved to the floor by his feet, and a low purr squeezed out of its throat.

Draco's shoulders tensed, "What is it looking at you for?"

"It can't see me." Allen stuffed his book back into his bag, "It's looking for the entrance."

Nott's pen tip paused, "Residuals from the Portable Space entrance?"

"Very faint. The fake Scabbers was taken out of the space, carrying short-term folding marks. Ordinary cats can't tell, but Crookshanks can."

Zabini's candy box stopped in his palm, "A half-Kneazle?"

Allen looked in the direction Hermione had left, "A high-intelligence cat. It reacts to Animagus and spatial traces."

Draco's expression became even uglier, "So Granger's cat might track down Peter?"

"Peter is in my hands. It can't track him down." Allen stood up, "But it will discover that Scabbers is acting weird."

Ron had already chased after Hermione out of the Great Hall, Harry caught between the two like he was being pulled by two ropes. A few Gryffindor lower-year students were watching the excitement on the sidelines, and Percy was shouting with a dark face for Ron not to lose face for the Weasley Family in the Great Hall.

Pansy walked over from the girls' side, lowering her voice, "Granger is crying. Weasley said her cat would eat Scabbers sooner or later."

Draco snorted, "Eating it would be for the best."

Allen glanced at him.

Draco swallowed the second half of his sentence, "I mean, the fake Scabbers."

"The fake Scabbers can't have any accidents either." Allen walked out, "It has to stay alive for Ron to maintain the original trajectory. If it goes missing, Black will discover the problem sooner."

Nott followed, "If Crookshanks continues to chase, Ron will start hiding Scabbers more tightly. That would actually be disadvantageous to Black."

"It would also make Black suspicious." Allen stopped at the corner of the corridor, seeing Hermione standing under a window holding Crookshanks. Ron was a few steps away, his anger not yet subsided, and Harry's attempts to persuade them were useless.

Crookshanks suddenly struggled out of Hermione's arms, and upon landing, rushed straight at the hem of Ron's school robe.

"Crookshanks!"

Ron yelled and jumped back. The fake Scabbers darted half its head out of his pocket, its grey fur a tangled mess, missing half its right front paw, and the tear in its left ear was still there. It shrank back quickly after smelling the cat, its movements slightly sluggish, but enough to look like a terrified rat.

Allen tapped his fingertips inside his sleeve.

A Spatial Thin Layer flickered near Ron's shoe, and the fake Scabbers was pushed back into the pocket by a small, subtle shift. Crookshanks' claws grazed the fabric, hooking only a strand of old yarn.

Hermione rushed over to hug the cat, "I'm sorry, Ron, I..."

"Stay away from me!" Ron protected his pocket, his face turning from red to white, "And keep your cat away from Scabbers too!"

Harry opened his mouth, then closed it. He looked at Hermione, then at Ron, clearly not wanting to take sides.

Draco stuck to the wall, his voice very low, "Did you just act?"

"Pushed the rat."

"Will the Professor notice?"

"No." Allen withdrew his hand, "There are too many people around Ron's feet; the magic traces will blend into the students' miscellaneous spells."

Nott wrote down this scene, "Crookshanks is precise in locking onto the fake Scabbers and can identify abnormal rodents. It will actively pounce when within three feet."

Zabini added a sentence, "And it watches Allen's cuff."

Nott added it.

Draco tugged at his tie irritably, "So Granger's cat needs to be classified as a risk?"

"File it." Allen turned toward the Library, "Prohibit it from approaching the Portable Space entrance. Prohibit letting it contact the fake Scabbers for too long. If it starts tracking Ron at night, notify me."

Pansy hugged her textbook, "We have to monitor a cat too?"

"The cat is smarter than Flint."

Draco nodded immediately, "I agree with that."

The seats by the window in the Library were empty. After sitting down, Allen took out a piece of parchment and wrote the two characters: Crookshanks. The void's silver vertical pupils opened inside the Portable Space, the tip of the tail lightly touching the small box next to the ebony box. The real Peter huddled deep in the cage, his whole body jolting backward when he heard the cat's name.

Allen wrote on the file.

Crookshanks, high-intelligence cat, suspected Kneazle lineage. Capable of identifying Animagus transformations and tracking Spatial Folding residuals. Has locked onto the fake Scabbers three times. Need to prevent abnormal behavior when it approaches the space entrance.

Nott sat opposite, "If Granger uses Crookshanks to track the silver light, she will get closer faster."

Allen stopped writing, "She won't think of the cat first."

"But she will observe the cat." Nott pushed the record book aside, "Granger reacts quickly to anomalies. She has already put the Troll, the Philosopher's Stone, the Chamber of Secrets, and the prophecy on the same map."

Zabini sat down, "Now there is one more cat on the map."

Draco slammed his book on the table, the noise drawing a glare from Madam Pince. He lowered his voice, "I've had enough. Black, Lupin, Dementors, time-turner, Granger, the cat. What else?"

Allen looked up, "Quidditch."

Draco was stunned, "What?"

"The next match, Slytherin against Gryffindor."

Zabini chuckled, "He wakes up as soon as he hears Quidditch."

Draco sat up straight, "That goes without saying. We will win."

Allen looked at his injured arm, then toward the stadium outside the window, "Don't treat the match like a stage."

"When have I ever treated a match like a stage?"

Nott closed the record book, "Last time you shouted at Harry seven times from the stands."

"That was tactical interference."

Allen put the Crookshanks file into the Portable Space, "Tactical interference must have a payoff. If you create an opportunity for Harry to win the game, I will move your training schedule to the middle of the night."

Draco's face fell immediately, "You can't do that."

"I can."

Zabini pushed the candy box to him, "Eat one, mourn in advance."

Draco didn't take it. He stared at Allen, and after a long time, squeezed out a sentence, "I won't let Potter win."

Allen looked down and wrote the next line.

Draco, pre-match risk: impulsive, performative, prone to giving momentum to The Chosen One.

Draco saw it and was so angry he almost stood up.

Madam Pince coughed in the distance.

Allen folded the parchment, his voice very soft, "The cat is already chasing the rat. The dog will also come through the door. Don't let yourself become the bait first."