George Weasley made a lunge for Crookshanks but missed; Scabbers streaked through twenty pairs of legs and shot beneath an old chest of drawers. Crookshanks skidded to a halt, crouched low on his bandy legs, and started making furious swipes beneath it with his front paw.
Ron and Hermione hurried over; Hermione grabbed Crookshanks around the middle and heaved him away; Ron threw himself onto his stomach and, with great difficulty, pulled Scabbers out by the tail.
“Look at him!” he said furiously to Hermione, dangling Scabbers in front of her. “He’s skin and bone! You keep that cat away from him!”
“Crookshanks doesn’t understand it’s wrong!” said Hermione, her voice shaking. “All cats chase rats, Ron!”
“There’s something funny about that animal!” said Ron, who was trying to persuade a frantically wiggling Scabbers back into his pocket. “It heard me say that Scabbers was in my bag!”
“Oh, what rubbish,” said Hermione impatiently. “Crookshanks could smell him, Ron, how else d’you think —”
“That cat’s got it in for Scabbers!” said Ron, ignoring the people around him, who were starting to giggle. “And Scabbers was here first, and he’s ill!”
Ron marched through the common room and out of sight up the stairs to the boys’ dormitories.
Ron was still in a bad mood with Hermione next day. He barely talked to her all through Herbology, even though he, Harry, and Hermione were working together on the same puffapod.
“How’s Scabbers?” Hermione asked timidly as they stripped fat pink pods from the plants and emptied the shining beans into a wooden pail.
“He’s hiding at the bottom of my bed, shaking,” said Ron angrily, missing the pail and scattering beans over the greenhouse floor.
“Careful, Weasley, careful!” cried Professor Sprout as the beans burst into bloom before their very eyes.
They had Transfiguration next. Harry, who had resolved to ask Professor McGonagall after the lesson whether he could go into Hogsmeade with the rest, joined the line outside the class trying to decide how he was going to argue his case. He was distracted, however, by a disturbance at the front of the line.
Lavender Brown seemed to be crying. Parvati had her arm around her and was explaining something to Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas, who were looking very serious.
“What’s the matter, Lavender?” said Hermione anxiously as she, Harry, and Ron went to join the group.
“She got a letter from home this morning,” Parvati whispered. “It’s her rabbit, Binky. He’s been killed by a fox.”
“Oh,” said Hermione, “I’m sorry, Lavender.”
“I should have known!” said Lavender tragically. “You know what day it is?”
“Er —”
“The sixteenth of October! ‘That thing you’re dreading, it will happen on the sixteenth of October!’ Remember? She was right, she was right!”
The whole class was gathered around Lavender now. Seamus shook his head seriously. Hermione hesitated; then she said, “You — you were dreading Binky being killed by a fox?”
“Well, not necessarily by a fox,” said Lavender, looking up at Hermione with streaming eyes, “but I was obviously dreading him dying, wasn’t I?”
“Oh,” said Hermione. She paused again. Then —
“Was Binky an old rabbit?”
“N-no!” sobbed Lavender. “H-he was only a baby!”
Parvati tightened her arm around Lavender’s shoulders.
“But then, why would you dread him dying?” said Hermione.
Parvati glared at her.
“Well, look at it logically,” said Hermione, turning to the rest of the group. “I mean, Binky didn’t even die today, did he? Lavender just got the news today” — Lavender wailed loudly — “and she can’t have been dreading it, because it’s come as a real shock —”
“Don’t mind Hermione, Lavender,” said Ron loudly, “she doesn’t think other people’s pets matter very much.”
Professor McGonagall opened the classroom door at that moment, which was perhaps lucky; Hermione and Ron were looking daggers at each other, and when they got into class, they seated themselves on either side of Harry and didn’t talk to each other for the whole class.
Harry still hadn’t decided what he was going to say to Professor McGonagall when the bell rang at the end of the lesson, but it was she who brought up the subject of Hogsmeade first.
“One moment, please!” she called as the class made to leave. “As you’re all in my House, you should hand Hogsmeade permission forms to me before Halloween. No form, no visiting the village, so don’t forget!”
Neville put up his hand.
“Please, Professor, I — I think I’ve lost —”
“Your grandmother sent yours to me directly, Longbottom,” said Professor McGonagall. “She seemed to think it was safer. Well, that’s all, you may leave.”
“Ask her now,” Ron hissed at Harry.
“Oh, but —” Hermione began.
“Go for it, Harry,” said Ron stubbornly.
Harry waited for the rest of the class to disappear, then headed nervously for Professor McGonagall’s desk.
“Yes, Potter?”
Harry took a deep breath.
“Professor, my aunt and uncle — er — forgot to sign my form,” he said.
Professor McGonagall looked over her square spectacles at him but didn’t say anything.
“So — er — d’you think it would be all right — I mean, will it be okay if I — if I go to Hogsmeade?”
Professor McGonagall looked down and began shuffling papers on her desk.
“I’m afraid not, Potter,” she said. “You heard what I said. No form, no visiting the village. That’s the rule.”
“But — Professor, my aunt and uncle — you know, they’re Muggles, they don’t really understand about — about Hogwarts forms and stuff,” Harry said, while Ron egged him on with vigorous nods. “If you said I could go —”