part 4
Sunday night rolled around and after getting an offensive letter from Percy Weasley, Harry Ron and Hermione sat around the Gryffindor fireplace as Hermione went over their essays on Astronomy. Harry was near wilting in his squashy armchair, running his hands down his face. It was past midnight now, and the common room was deserted. Crookshanks crept out from under a table to Hermione’s delight.
Something tinkled behind them suddenly, and Harry’s instincts had him rocketing to his feet and turning with his wand outstretched to protect. A small ginger and black cat stopped in its tracks, looking up at him with frightened yellow eyes.
“Merlin’s beard,” Harry sighed, deflating all at once. “It’s a kitten.”
It padded up to the three, eyes watchful. Ron bent to scratch under its chin with a small smile. “Look at its nifty little bell, looks like a star.”
It licked the edge of Ron’s finger before winding itself around Harry’s legs, meowing until he gently picked it up and sat it on his leg.
“D’you know who’s cat this is?” Harry asked.
“Must be a first year,” Ron said, eyeing the cat with jealousy that it had chosen Harry. “I’ve not seen it before.”
“Weird.”
Ron and Hermione fell into a quiet bickering over Ron’s essay as Harry stroked the cat. It purred like an engine and he grinned. But then he caught a glimpse of his godfather's head in the fire, and after a disappointing conversation he didn’t complain when the cat sat curled over his heart as he settled down to sleep.
—
The next morning, Dolores Umbridge was announced High Inquisitor. Celio’s lip curled at the newspaper and he threw it down with a groan. Terry Boot sat himself down next to him at the Slytherin table, making many Slytherins glare at him. He paid them no mind.
“You hear this absolute garbage about Umbridge?” He asked. “Good morning, by the way. Pass me some toast, Celio.”
“Sure.” Celio passed him the plate. “She’s insane. What kind of role is High Inquisitor?”
“Dunno, she just wants control I think.” Terry rolled his eyes before sighing. “Can’t wait to see some of our teachers be inspected. Imagine McGonagall!”
“Imagine Snape,” Celio chuckled. “Hey, did you see where Leo went last night? I put his bowl out and he didn’t come - usually he’s hounding me for dinner but maybe he wandered off…”
“Why would I have seen? Did you forget I’m in Ravenclaw?” He said flatly. “Keep a better watch on your cat, man.”
“If I can’t find him -”
Suddenly the familiar tinkling of his cat's bell made him shoot up from his seat, looking around quickly. Hazel eyes darted around until finally they landed on his little ginger and black spotted cat walking haughtily towards him.
“Leonardo! Dove sei stato? Per favore non sparire così, è spaventoso.” He fretted, moving towards his cat and scooping him off the floor to hold him to his chest where the cat rubbed its head against his chest.
Celio looked up at the feet that had accompanied his cat to the Great Hall and his relieved smile faltered for a moment. The Golden Trio stood before him, Ron and Harry glaring as Hermione watched flatly.
“Was he…” Celio felt faint. “He was in the Gryffindor tower, wasn’t he?”
“Yes.” Hermione said, her head lifted to look down her nose at him. “You know pets owned by students aren’t allowed in other houses' common rooms, don’t you?”
“Please, please don’t tell a teacher.” Celio was petting Leo carefully as he glanced between the Gryffindors. “I swear I don’t know why he was in there. He must have liked the smell and aura of someone.”
Ron raised his eyebrows at Harry who flushed. Harry burst, “Don’t send your cat to spy on us, Terran. It’s pathetic, really.”
Celio looked at him with wide eyes for a moment before his lips twisted into something Harry recognised as trying not to laugh.
“What’re you laughing at, bastard?”
Celio’s mouth slipped into a smile. He couldn’t help it. “I’m not, promise. Just - look. Why would I put my cat in danger by sending him to spy on you lot? And honestly, how would I communicate with him? Do I look like I speak cat?”
Hermione nodded thoughtfully. “Well, Harry looked after him for the night. You could at least thank him for that, couldn’t you?”
“Did you really?” Celio asked curiously.
Harry huffed. “Well, I didn’t know he was your cat.”
Celio’s eyes rested on Harry as his cheeks went a little pink, speaking softly. “Well, thanks anyway. Leo’s really special to me.”
Harry’s eyes softened for a moment before Ron tugged on Hermione and Harry’s shoulders. “Whatever. I’m hungry.”
—
Later that day Defence Against the Dark Arts came around. Celio sunk into his seat behind Ron Weasley and dropped his bag onto his desk, pulling out the godforsaken book Umbridge had them reading, and shoved his wand into his pocket. He didn’t need to hear her say it to know she’d make them put their wands away.
“As we finished Chapter One last lesson, I would like you all to turn to page nineteen today and commence “Chapter Two, Common Defensive Theories and their Derivation”. There will be no need to talk.” She instructed with a smile.
Those who had been hopeful sadly tucked their wands away. Celio didn’t bother opening the book at all, just lowered his head to take a nap. Pansy Parkinson next to him hissed, “Terran! Do you want detention?” But he ignored her.
He was half asleep when there was whispering at the table in front of them. It went back and forth between the toad and another student until Umbridge had had enough.
“Oh, you do, do you?” said Professor Umbridge. “Well, I’m afraid it is Mr Slinkhard’s opinion, and not yours, that matters within this classroom, Miss Granger.’”
“But -” Hermione began.
“That is enough,” said Professor Umbridge. “Miss Granger, I am going to take five points from Gryffindor house.”
There was an outbreak of muttering that made Celio attempt to bury his head further into his arms.
“What for?” said Harry Potter angrily.
“For disrupting my class with pointless interruptions,” said Professor Umbridge smoothly. “I am here to teach you using a Ministry-approved method that does not include inviting students to give their opinions on matters about which they understand very little. Your previous teachers in this subject may have allowed you more licence, but as none of them - with the possible exception of Professor Quirrell, who did at least appear to have restricted himself to age-appropriate subjects - would have passed a Ministry inspection -”
“Yeah, Quirrell was a great teacher,’ Harry said loudly, “There was just that minor drawback of him having Lord Voldemort sticking out of the back of his head.”
This pronouncement was followed by silence. Then -
“I think another week’s detentions would do you some good, Mr Potter,” said Umbridge sleekly.
The boy in question huffed. Suddenly a book fell on Celio’s head, making him shoot up. Umbridge’s beady little eyes stared him down.
“You’ll be joining Mr Potter for tonight’s detention,” said Umbridge. “Really, how dare you sleep through classes!”
Celio hung his head, muttered a quick “Sorry Professor,” and hated every minute of the rest of the lesson.