Suddenly, a faint whistling sound pierced the air. The trio looked around in alarm.
Ron pointed at Harry's pocket.
"It's coming from your pocket."
Harry quickly pulled out his Sneakoscope, which was spinning at a dizzying speed and shining with a dazzling light.
Hermione glanced at it, drew her wand, and cast a Silencing Charm on the Sneakoscope.
Then she remarked, a little surprised,
"Didn't the Professor say these things aren't very accurate? Why are you still carrying it around?"
Ron grumbled,
"Yeah, yeah, I know it's cheap rubbish. When I tied it to Errol's leg to send it to Harry, it started going haywire. Thank Merlin you know how to shut it up."
Hermione quickly apologized,
"Sorry, Ron, I almost forgot it was your gift for Harry."
Ron just waved it off.
Harry patted Ron's shoulder,
"I actually think it's pretty handy. Last time Wangcai tried to rummage through my trunk, it gave a perfect warning. But it was flashing so much that Wangcai nabbed it, and I had to trade a Galleon to get it back."
Ron looked curious,
"Who's Wangcai? That's a weird name."
Hermione chimed in,
"That's Professor Holmes's Niffler. When I first met it, it somehow managed to steal my buttons without me noticing. The Professor also has a big black dog with an equally odd name..."
Ron cut her off, his face lighting up,
"Really? You mean, a real Niffler? I've always wanted one, but I heard they're nearly impossible to buy—goblins have a monopoly on the market..."
The three launched into an animated discussion about Nifflers.
None of them noticed that Professor Lupin, who'd been dozing, gave a sudden shudder at the mention of the big black dog.
Just as they were deep in a heated debate about Hogsmeade village, a harsh scratching noise came from the compartment door.
Hermione hurried to open it and found her new pet cat, Crookshanks, had come running from the luggage compartment.
She scooped up Crookshanks, casting a cautious glance at Lupin—who, thankfully, hadn't woken. She let out a sigh of relief.
Ron, seeing Crookshanks, instinctively shielded his bulging pocket.
"Watch your cat..."
But before he could finish, Crookshanks leapt nimbly from Hermione's arms onto Ron's lap.
Ron, irritated and a bit rough, shoved Crookshanks off.
"Get off!"
Hermione shot him a glare,
"Ron, don't be like that."
Ron was about to retort when he noticed Lupin stir. The three held their breath, but Lupin only rolled over, turning his head the other way. They relaxed.
Once Hermione had a firm hold on Crookshanks, Ron carefully kept the cat out of his line of sight as he whispered to Harry,
"Seriously, we owe Professor Holmes. Remember how Scabbers looked when we saw him in Diagon Alley? Look at him now."
Harry glanced over and saw that Scabbers, who'd been sickly and shedding fur, was now plump and glossy, sleeping soundly—even with a cat in the compartment.
Ron beamed,
"Really, it's all thanks to the pet food Professor Holmes gave me. Ever since Scabbers started eating it, he's never been better—though he does sleep a lot..."
At that, Crookshanks let out a low growl, making Ron hastily stuff Scabbers back into his pocket.
The Hogwarts Express chugged steadily northward, the scenery outside growing ever bleaker.
By mid-afternoon, rain began to fall, blurring the mountains beyond the window.
Just then, footsteps echoed in the corridor. Three unwelcome faces appeared: Draco Malfoy, flanked by his cronies, Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle.
Draco Malfoy lifted his chin, sneering,
"Well, well, look who it is—Snivelly and the Weasel."
He smirked, using a mocking play on Harry and Ron's names.
"Heard your dad finally got his hands on some gold this year..."
Ron shot to his feet, mimicking Draco's sneer,
"Yeah? I heard the Malfoy family's so broke they can't even keep a house-elf anymore. Their poor elf had to go out and find a real job—he's working as Professor Holmes's butler now, making ten Galleons a week..."
Harry joined in,
"Yeah, Dobby's living the dream. Not only does he get new clothes every day, he gives my uncle's pets a Galleon in pocket money—every day..."
Ron stared at Harry in disbelief—a Galleon a day in pocket money?
Malfoy's face turned crimson, and he spat,
"What does your uncle think he is...?"
Hermione blinked innocently,
"Oh dear, Harry, let me borrow Hedwig—I need to write to Professor Holmes. His favorite Defence Against the Dark Arts class rep is talking behind his back, calling him 'what does he think he is'..."
Malfoy's face went pale. He stammered,
"Y-you—what did you say? Professor Holmes is your uncle?"
Harry just shrugged, as if it was nothing worth mentioning.
At that moment, Lupin let out a low hum, immediately catching Malfoy's attention. Malfoy seized the chance to change the subject,
"Who's that?"
When it came to Professor Holmes, Malfoy was conflicted—on the one hand, he was grateful for the high marks Holmes's teaching had earned him (his mother was thrilled with his results), but on the other, he still resented Holmes for costing his family their only house-elf. His father had warned him: if you see Holmes in the wizarding world, don't go looking for trouble...
Harry snickered,
"That's the new teacher. You've already insulted the last professor—wasn't that enough? Or do you want to try your luck with another one...?"
He shot a pointed glance at Lupin, still apparently asleep.
Malfoy's grey eyes narrowed. He wasn't stupid.
Suddenly, he sneered at Ron,
"Oh, that reminds me—The Daily Prophet ran a contest. Whoever guessed the new Defence Against the Dark Arts professor would win five hundred Galleons.
Heh, I wonder if your lucky dad will get it right this time?"
With that, and before Ron could explode, Malfoy hustled Crabbe and Goyle out of the compartment.
Inside, Ron flexed his knuckles, fuming,
"I'm not putting up with Malfoy's rubbish this term. I mean it—if he dares insult my family again, I'll grab him by the head and—"
He made a fierce gesture in the air.
Hermione tugged his arm, nodding towards Lupin and whispering,
"Careful..."
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