Crookshanks pranced ahead, full of swagger, leading the way, while the big black dog trailed behind, looking thoroughly dejected.
Ever since losing to this little kitty, it had to deal with Crookshanks showing up every few days to drag it along.
Yes, it lost. To a tiny cat, no less.
No matter where it hid, as long as it was at Hogwarts, that little cat always managed to track it down.
With no other choice, it grudgingly took on the role of Crookshanks' sidekick.
Even now, it couldn't wrap its head around how it lost to such a pint-sized creature. It was even more baffling how something so small could have such terrifying strength and ridiculous speed.
It had seemed like one swipe of its paw would pin the cat to the ground. Instead, it was the one pinned, unable to get up.
The big black dog followed Crookshanks to the top of one of Hogwarts' isolated towers, the Owlery—a place usually reserved for the school's owls.
But today, it wasn't just owls up here. The place was teeming with all sorts of animals.
Toads, cats, rats, and, of course, plenty of owls.
These were Hogwarts' pets.
Draco's eagle owl, Harry's Hedwig, and Neville's Trevor were all among them.
When Crookshanks strutted in, the other pets instinctively parted to make way, like subjects welcoming their king.
Crookshanks, head held high and practically oozing confidence, led the black dog to the prime spot. This was a cat destined to become a roving adventurer, after all.
As they passed, the other pets eyed the black dog curiously.
The dog kept its head low, trying to avoid their stares.
It was the first time in its life it had been gawked at by a crowd of pets.
Crookshanks let out a few meows, then, out of nowhere, pulled out a sack.
The moment that sack appeared, every pet's eyes locked onto it, gleaming like they'd spotted treasure.
There was clearly something very interesting in there.
When Crookshanks opened the sack, the black dog got a look at its contents.
A bag of pet food.
Magical Creature Rations (Perfect Grade): Suitable for mammals, amphibians, reptiles, and birds.
The second the sack was opened, the pets started getting antsy, practically vibrating with the urge to pounce. But one sharp meow from Crookshanks, and they all settled down.
"Just a bag of pet food? I thought it was something special," the black dog thought dismissively. It had seen this kind of plain brown kibble in pet shops before.
Sure, it was pretty hungry, but there was no way it was eating pet food.
Crookshanks, holding the sack in its mouth, started doling out portions to the other pets.
Despite the bag's small size, it seemed bottomless. Crookshanks poured out food for every pet, and the sack didn't look any emptier.
A full bowl was plopped down in front of the black dog, too.
It wasn't eating this stuff. It'd rather rummage through the kitchen's trash than stoop to pet food.
"This cat really thinks I'm its lackey," the dog grumbled inwardly.
Still, it lowered its head and took a tiny nibble, just to keep up appearances.
It still couldn't leave Hogwarts. It had to stay here, had to catch that traitor. If eating a bit of pet food was what it took, so be it—even if it meant eating worse.
But the moment its tongue touched the food, it froze.
This taste…
"Merlin's beard, it's amazing!"
Somewhere deep in the black dog's soul, it felt like a voice was screaming in delight.
"This is the best thing I've ever tasted!"
It was, without question, the most delicious thing it had eaten in decades.
Swallowing quickly, it dove in for a second bite.
And then it couldn't stop.
The black dog chowed down, wolfing it all up in no time, even licking the bowl clean of every last crumb.
It licked its chops, already wondering when it could eat this stuff again.
But guilt hit hard and fast.
"What are you doing, Sirius?"
"Your mission is to catch Peter, that blasted traitor!"
"You can't keep sinking this low!"
The black dog's gaze hardened with resolve. It looked over at Crookshanks.
Sensing the stare, Crookshanks thought it was still hungry and meowed, "Want some more?"
The dog hesitated for a moment, then nodded firmly.
It needed to eat well to have the strength to catch its prey.
After a satisfying meal, it seized an opportunity to wheedle the Gryffindor common room password out of one of the pets.
If the Fat Lady was guarding the entrance, sneaking in would've been tricky. But with Sir Cadogan on duty? Piece of cake. That knight didn't care who gave the password.
When morning came and the young witches and wizards headed to class, it was the perfect chance.
"Want to play?" one of the pets asked.
"Absolutely!" the black dog replied, suddenly in high spirits, and it happily joined the other pets in their fun.
The next day, Gryffindor students stumbled out of the common room, yawning and rubbing their eyes. A few late risers rushed out, clutching their books.
In Defense Against the Dark Arts, Professor Lupin watched as silvery wisps sputtered from the students' wands, looking a bit exasperated.
Even with his personal instruction, their progress was, frankly, frustrating.
Mastering advanced spells like this required not just effort and good teaching, but talent, too.
That's why professors at wizarding schools rarely taught high-level charms.
"Professor, I think you need a teaching aid," Dudley said.
He believed talent gaps could be bridged elsewhere, and the best way to learn was through hands-on practice.
"A teaching aid?" Lupin's mind immediately went to Dementors.
But with tensions between Dementors and wizards at an all-time low after the Quidditch match, Lupin didn't exactly have the clout to invite one in as a sparring partner.
"I've got just the thing," Dudley said.
With a flash of white light, a chilling, eerie presence filled the room. A creature in tattered robes materialized.
"Dementor!" Lupin snapped, wand raised, eyeing it warily.
Dudley shook his head, firm and insistent. "No, it's a Boggart."
Lupin blinked, thinking he'd misjudged. He studied the creature closely. It had none of a Boggart's telltale signs—it was unmistakably a Dementor.
"Boggart!" Dudley repeated, doubling down.
Hearing Dudley's confident tone, Lupin second-guessed himself and checked again. With years of experience dealing with dark creatures, he was certain.
This was clearly a Dementor.
"It's a Boggart," Dudley said a third time, his voice unwavering. "A Boggart under a Confundus Charm, turned into a Dementor."