# Ron-Weasly book 1. V2 part 6-2

Аноним Горный-Цветок

A trip to the kitchen for carrots for the rat. Continuation of the potions lesson. A trip to Hagrid.

Chapter 6.2 a trip to the kitchen

The herbology lesson had just ended, and the students were pouring out of the greenhouses, shaking clods of earth from their robes. Noticing Hannah Abbott ahead, I quickened my pace and caught up with her on the path leading to the castle. I knew her well, because the Abbot farm was not far from the Burrow. Mom even bought vegetables and meat from them for cheap.

"Hannah! Wait a minute," I was a little out of breath from walking fast, but I didn't slow down, matching her pace.

Hannah turned around, eyebrows raised.

"Ron? Hi! How are your chickens?" She was referring to the Weasley farm, which was adjacent to her family's property in the wizarding world.

"Yes, it's fine, but... My baby rat needs fresh carrots. And I do not know where to get anything here. You're from Halfpuff, so you probably know where the kitchen is?"

Hannah nodded, smiling slightly.

"Yes, it's nearby. And what?"

I took the Brat out of my pocket, which immediately began sniffing the air, wiggling its whiskers.

"You see, he needs fresh carrots. And I do not know where that is.... Could you go to the kitchen and ask?"

Hannah laughed, but without mockery- rather, from the surprise of such a request.

"Do you want me to go to the kitchen and ask for carrots for your little rat?"

"Well, yes..." Ron blushed. "I know it sounds weird, but..."

"It's okay," Hannah waved her hand, holding back a smile. "But you know what? Let me just tell you how to get there. It's not far. Go down the main staircase to the bottom, then turn into the left corridor - there is a large still life with fruits. If you tickle a pear in a painting, it will giggle and turn into a pen. Then just open the door and go downstairs. Understood?"

"Uh... sort of," I frowned, trying to remember. "Still life, pear, tickle... won't the elves get mad if I come? However, students are not allowed into the school's utility rooms."

"On the contrary! They are very kind. Just don't be shy and ask politely - they'll be happy to give you anything."

"Thank you very much!" I beamed. "You're just... You're saving us both!"

Hannah went to the showers, and I went to the kitchen.

I was about to turn around and run to follow the instructions when Fred and George suddenly jumped out from around the corner.

"Hey, brother, where are you going in such a hurry?" Fred exclaimed cheerfully.

"I'm trying to find a kitchen," I said honestly. "I need to get a carrot for the Brat. Hannah said that we need to find a painting with fruits and tickle a pear. Does that sound okay at all?"

The twins looked at each other and burst out laughing.

"Oh, our little Ronnie is finally discovering the wonders of Hogwarts!" George clapped me on the shoulder. "Yes, that's right. Just make sure you don't mix it up - don't eat this pear, it's meant for something else!"

"And don't forget to say "please" to the elves," Fred added, grinning. "They like to be polite."

"Yeah, thanks..." I was a little taken aback by their amusement, but I nodded anyway. "Well, I'm off."

"Good luck, hero!" George called after them.

"If anything, we are always ready to help... for a small fee in the form of pies!"

I, no longer listening to their teasing, hurried to the main staircase, repeating to myself:

"Still life, pear, tickle..."

I went straight to the shower room and then to the kitchen. Repeating the instructions of the brothers and Hannah to himself, he went down the main staircase to the very bottom, turned into the left corridor and soon saw the painting.

"So, a still life... here she is,"

I thought, carefully examining the canvas. It was decorated with lush bunches of grapes, juicy apples and a single pear, which stood out with its pale green color.

I looked around - there was no one around, so there was no one to laugh if it was a joke. I reached out and gently tickled the pear. She giggled, wriggled, and in the blink of an eye turned into a shiny bronze pen. I didn't waste any time pulling on it, and a secret door opened in front of me, leading down a stone staircase. Downstairs, there was a commotion: house elves scurried between huge cauldrons and tables piled high with fruits and vegetables. The air was filled with delicious aromas.

"I'm sorry..." I began uncertainly, adjusting the rat on my shoulder, but I was immediately surrounded by a group of curious brownies.

"How can we help you, young master?" A short elf woman wearing a clean pillowcase with an embroidered yellow leaf asked.

"Uh... my name is Ron. I... I need some fresh carrots. For my little rat, the Brat," I blushed slightly, but tried to sound confident. "And maybe some more greenery?"

"Of course, of course!" The elf beamed. "My name is Leti. We will be happy to help Mr. Ron!"

She waved her hand, and a small pile of fresh carrots with green tails and a bunch of juicy lettuce immediately appeared on the table. And a couple of slices of ripe apple.

"Here, take this, Mr. Ron. Leti will bring you some every day in your living room or bedroom if you want."

"Really? That would be just wonderful!" I beamed, glad that I wouldn't have to come here every couple of days. "I'll leave the food bowl in the bedroom, on the bedside table."

"Okay, Mr. Ron, fly to find it."

I put the vegetables in a bowl and put them on the floor along with the Brat. While I was looking at the vegetables, my nose caught another delicious scent. Turning around, I saw a huge tray with pies that had just been taken out of the oven. Damn, the brothers love them, especially Fred.

"And these are... pies?" I couldn't resist and decided to ask for some while my little rat was gnawing on vegetables. He was crunching carrots so deliciously that my stomach rumbled.

"Yes, with cabbage and meat! The freshest ones!" Leti happily confirmed. "We'll feed you, Mr. Ron, you don't have to go hungry."

"Can... Can I have five pies? For myself and my brothers" Ron added hastily, so as not to look too gluttonous.

"Of course! As many as you want!" Leti immediately put a dozen pies in a small basket and handed it to me, covering it with a towel. "Take some more pies. We have apples from the eastern grove and wild mushrooms," elfiechka pointed to the dishes under the towels."

"Thank you so much, Lety! You're just... magical!" I blushed even more from embarrassment, but the smile did not leave my face. "We can have five more with mushrooms."

"Here, take Mr. Ron and treat the merry Fred and George, they are frequent guests here."

I love mushroom pies. I bit into the warm side of the pie, waiting for the Brat to have lunch.

"Mr. Ron can always come to us!" Leti bowed. "We love it when guests visit the kitchen."

"Can I bring a friend who likes to cook like you?"

"Yes, of course, Mr. Ron, bring the great Harry Potter. All the Hogwarts elves will be happy to see him."

And I, with a basket of cabbage and mushroom pies, separated by towels, in one hand and a bag of carrots in the other, hurried upstairs, feeling like a winner. "Fred and George will definitely appreciate the pies," I thought with a smile, while the Brat was sitting on his shoulder eating a salad.

Suddenly, as I passed the pantry next to the kitchen, I noticed a large gray cat with black stripes and bright green, glowing eyes step out of the shadows. She walked slowly around me, sniffed at the bag, from which came the faint smell of carrots, and made a soft, almost melodious "meow." Then she hissed at my rat, but she didn't rush. I noticed on Tuesday that the cats of Hogwarts were ignoring my little rat.

"Uh... hello, kitty," I cautiously stretched out my hand, and the cat, hesitating a little, rubbed against my robe.

A brownie in a pillowcase with a yellow leaf immediately jumped out from around the corner.

"Oh, Mr. Ron! Don't worry, it's Selena! She makes sure that there are no... unwanted guests here," He lowered his voice and looked around. "She's very smart, yes. If Selena is here, then everything is fine. Peeves sent a couple of rats into the pantry again yesterday. The cat proudly raised its tail and, after giving Ron another attentive look, slid back into the shadows."

***

Okay, stop dreaming, we have a lesson coming.

Professor Snape is already squinting with displeasure. Upset, Hermione proudly tossed her head and raised her hand. Snape graciously allowed her to answer three questions and went to interview the students further.

Snape graciously allowed her to answer three questions and went to interview the students further.

"Mr. Weasley, tell us how to properly slice the ingredients. Since you're not interested in this topic, do you know everything about preparing them for potions?"

"Oh, yes, sir, I've been making potions with my mom." I started talking about the preparation of ingredients and their proper cutting.

"Okay, two points for Gryffindor, but for the future, don't get your head in the clouds about my lessons anymore."

Then Snape divided the students into pairs and gave them the task of preparing a simple potion to cure boils. He circled the classroom, rustling his long black robe, and watched as we weighed dried nettle leaves and ground snake teeth in mortars. Snape criticized half of the class for being crooked-handed.

From time to time, he raised his head and looked around the classroom, suddenly he raised his hand with a wand and shouted.

"Longboat stop!" - Snape was shouting so loudly that Neville froze in fright and did not bring his hand with porcupine quills to the cauldron. Hermione gasped in horror, looking at the needles in Neville's hand. Draco, I, and several of the Slytherins turned very pale.

"Mr. Longbottom," Snape's voice cuts through the silence like glass, You almost turned my classroom into an infirmary just now. "Tell me -out loud, so that everyone can hear - what are the properties of so many crushed porcupine quills, at a high temperature of the potion? Especially when interacting with wolf poison?

Neville turns pale, still clutching the needles. Seamus, sitting next to me, suddenly turns pale with fear. The Gryffindors freeze: someone is frantically flipping through a textbook, someone Hermione is looking at Neville in horror. Neville and Seamus would have been doused from head to toe with the potion when the cauldron exploded. Dean Thomas instinctively pushes his cauldron away, and Parvati groans softly and clings to Lavender.

"So, the cash register is not distracted from the boilers." We all remembered that we have our own potion boiling.

Slytherins react with restraint. Draco Malfoy only raises an eyebrow slightly, quickly writes something down in a notebook and whispers to his neighbor:

"Adding needles before neutralization is a gross mistake. Remember that." Zabini nods, also makes a note - for them this is not a reason to panic, but another point in the piggy bank of knowledge about what not to do.

"Uh... does it... enhance?" Neville mumbles uncertainly.

""It's amplifying"," Snape echoes, and there's a hint of icy mockery in his voice. "He walked over to Hermione's cauldron and said. "Leave Miss Granger to infuse, and help Longbottom." Then he turns to Neville. "How touching. Yes, Mr. Longbottom, it enhances the explosive power of the potion tenfold. Another ten seconds and your classmates would have been picking you up from the ceiling."

Hermione wasted no time in quickly applying a light stabilizing contour to Neville's cauldron with her wand - a barely noticeable silver film covers the container, calming the bubbling. Snape notices this, but only nods briefly, not in approval, but rather in recognition of the appropriateness of the action.

"Minus five points to Gryffindor for being inconsiderate," he says dryly. "And five more for making me waste my time trying to prevent a disaster."

Snape looks around the classroom.

"This applies to everyone. Potions is not a game of brave Gryffindors. Mistakes are not heroic here. They are deadly. Slytherins understand this. Hopefully Gryffindors will learn too someday."

Then, softening his tone a little, but without losing his severity, he adds:

"After the lesson, Mr. Longbottom, you will bring me a notebook with a description of three critical mistakes when working with wolf poison and ways to prevent them. On three sheets, legible, without abbreviations. And to make it clear that you really understood the material, and not copied it from Miss Granger."

Neville nods, still pale, but not so confused anymore.

"Yes, sir. I... I understand, sir."

I nudges him and whispers:

"Don't worry. I'll sketch out a plan for you, and you'll write it out beautifully. The main thing is that the boiler is intact, and the rest is fixable."

Hermione moves to Neville's cauldron, stirring his potion and explaining her actions.

Snape, already moving to another table, throws over his shoulder:

"And yes, Mr. Longbottom. I will not allow you to access the complex ingredients until you have completed your work. Today, limit yourself to stirring and temperature control. Miss Granger, help Mr. Longbottom adjust the recipe. You've already finished working with your potion, it just needs to brew.

Hermione nods and immediately begins to quietly dictate the necessary actions to Neville. Having gathered himself, he begins to gently stir the potion clockwise, carefully watching the color of the steam.

Slytherins continue to work quietly. Pansy Parkinson, without raising her head, speaks softly to her friend:

"Bydd yn rhaid i mi amlygu'r pwynt hwn mewn coch yn fy nodiadau. Bydd yn ddefnyddiol ar gyfer yr arholiad."

"Mr. Malfoy, ydych chi wedi gorffen eich gwaith eto?"

Draco nods gravely and says:

"Yes, sir, the potion needs to be infused."

"Help Mr. Goyle and Mr. Crab."

"And you, Mr. Knott, help Miss Parkinson and Miss Greengrass. And you, Potter, why didn't you stop Mr. Longbottom? Did you want to look better on his background? For that, I'll put a minus one point on your account."

An hour later, we left the dungeon and went up the stairs. Harry was really upset. Harry wanted to object to the professor, but kicked him under the table. And the friend remained silent.

"Cheer up," I encouraged him. "Fred and George are also having bad luck in Snape's classes. Do you know how many fines they got from him? Hey, can I come with you to Hagrid's? Maybe he has cereal seeds for the Brat. Otherwise, Percy fed his little rat with food from the table. Have you seen how fat the rat is?

- Yes, I saw it. But maybe it's because he's already old? He's already ten years old, right? Harry, he's a magical animal, he needs to move and be slimmer. And yet, since Hagrid is a forester, he knows everything about the plants in the forbidden forest and the animals that inhabit it. Charlie kept praising him.

***

At five minutes to three we left the castle and walked through the school grounds to Hagrid's hut. He lived in a small wooden house on the edge of the Forbidden Forest. Above the door was a pair of rubber boots and a magic lamp hung. When Harry knocked on the door, we heard someone frantically scratching at it from the other side and barking deafeningly. A moment later, Hagrid's booming voice reached us:

"Get back, Fang, get back!"

The door opened a crack, and a huge face overgrown with hair appeared behind it.

"Come on in," Hagrid invited. "Get back, Fang!"

Hagrid opened the door wider, barely holding the huge black dog by the collar. Hagrid did not know the name of this breed, although he explained that wild boars were hunted with such dogs.

The rain had just stopped, and drops were still falling from the roof of the hut, falling with a thud on the trampled ground. Harry and I crossed the threshold, shaking the water off our robes, and immediately plunged into the familiar comfort: the smell of hot tea, baked bread, and something smoky, as if Hagrid had recently blown up the coals.

In the corner, on a massive wooden beam, hung a combat crossbow. Charlie showed me the same one, only smaller. He looked imposing and a little alien among the mugs, baskets, and coils of rope.

"What's this?" Harry craned his neck, not daring to come any closer.

Hagrid had just bent down to a low chest and pulled out a cloth and a small jar that smelled of oil and iron. He turned around, followed Harry's gaze, and gave a slightly embarrassed grunt, as if he'd been caught doing something personal.

"A crossbow," he said simply, walking over to the wall and removing the weapon from its hook. The wood had darkened with age, and the metal had turned gray in places, but the whole thing looked sturdy, as if it had survived more than one storm. "It's an old thing, but it's true. In the Forbidden Forest without her... well, you know."

He put the crossbow on the table, and it lay down heavily, solidly, as if it knew its own worth. Hagrid opened the jar, dipped a corner of a cloth into it, and began to carefully wipe the metal parts - slowly, carefully, as if removing not rust, but some minor grudge accumulated over the days of dampness.

"See here?" He pointed to a barely noticeable reddish bloom near the trigger mechanism. "The dampness here is evil. You blink a little, and the iron starts to "cry." And I don't need crying iron. It should be dry and calm, like a cat at a warm stove.

Harry moved closer, careful not to touch the weapon, and bent down, examining the details.

"Do you... clean it every time it rains?" he asked softly.

"Not everyone," Hagrid shook his head, continuing to run the rag over the metal. "But if the night was wet, I'll take a look first thing in the morning. And I take the bowstring off - the shoulders don't like being held in suspense. The tree, it's alive, and it needs to rest."

I couldn't resist reaching out my hand, but I immediately pulled it back, afraid that the crossbow would hit me with magic, like Charlie's weapon.

"Is he... dangerous?"

"He's not making it dangerous," Hagrid replied calmly, looking up. "It's not magical, Ron. Haste and anger make it dangerous. And if it's smart and without too much fuss, then it's just an assistant. To protect yourself and those around you.

He finished wiping the metal, blew on the shiny strip as if checking for any dust, and carefully put the jar back into the chest. By the way, Harry told me that Hagrid tried to buy him a trunk for school, but Harry balked at the suitcase and that was it.

Then Hagrid took the crossbow in both hands, turned it over, checking the balance, and hung it on the hook again, this time so that no stray splashes would reach it if the door suddenly swung open in the wind.

"Well, enough about the hardware," He said more cheerfully, slapping his thighs and returning to the kettle. I have raisin muffins here, I baked them myself. Sit down, you're probably cold. Harry took another look at the crossbow - at its dark wood and polished metal - and suddenly felt that this object was not there to threaten. He was part of Hagrid's concern for his corner of the world: like dry wood by the fireplace, like a boarded-up crack from a draft, like a warm jacket on a nail. A thing that is cherished because too much may depend on it.

There was only one room in the house. Pork hams and gutted pheasants hung from the ceiling, a copper kettle was boiling over an open fire, and a massive bed covered with a patchwork quilt stood in the corner.

"You... uh... make yourself at home... Get settled in" Hagrid said, and Fang rushed over to me and started licking my ears. It was obvious that Fang, like his master, looked much more dangerous than he really was. He should have salivated less.

"This is Ron," Harry introduced me.

Meanwhile, Hagrid was making tea and putting cupcakes on a plate. The cupcakes made contact with the plate with such a sound that there was no doubt about their freshness - they had withered and turned to stone a long time ago. So, it would be necessary to somehow carefully abandon them. My teeth are precious to me. Although Madam Pomfrey will grow new ones and Hagrid will be offended. I'll soak them like breadcrumbs in soup. Exactly.

"Another Weasley, eh?" Hagrid asked, looking at my freckled face and red hair. "I've spent half my life hunting your brothers. Maen nhw wastad... wel... yn ceisio mynd i mewn i'r Goedwig Waharddedig, ac mae'n rhaid i mi eu dal nhw, ie! And you will climb into the forest as well as you grow up, I know you foxes."

And why am I not surprised? It was easy to break our teeth on the stone cupcakes, but Harry and I pretended that we really liked them and told Hagrid how our first days at school had been. Fang was sitting next to Harry, resting his head on his lap and drooling profusely over his school uniform. I took the cupcake in my hand and tried to soak it in a cup. Hmm, but nothing like that. But anyway, I would have eaten something more substantial. I have to go to the great hall for an afternoon snack at four o'clock. Today they promised nuts and milk from magic farms. And also dried fruits. Mmm.

Harry and I were terribly amused when we heard Hagrid call Filch an old bastard from the security guards.

"And this cat is his, Mrs. Norris... uh, I wish I could introduce her to Fang. You probably don't know, do you! As soon as I get to school, she follows me... uh... He's always on my heels, watching and sniffing around. And you can't hide from her, and you can't deceive her... She can smell me and she'll find me everywhere. Filch must have trained her on me."

And why would Filch do that? There's something fishy here, but Harry likes Hagrid, so I won't stop them from communicating.

Harry told Hagrid about Snape's lesson. Hagrid, like me, advised Harry not to worry because Snape doesn't like the vast majority of the students.

"Harry, he doesn't like everyone who hasn't passed the owls at least well."

"But I think he hates me." Harry sounded upset.

"It's nothing!" Hagrid objected. "Why would he? He always liked your mom. A couple of the best potion makers of the year."

However, Hagrid slightly looked away as he said these words. Another problem. Snape definitely reacts to his friend in some way too aggressively. Although when he made sure that Harry was cutting the ingredients well and stirring them in time, he calmed down. Snape doesn't even hate my brothers as much as Harry's appearance. Although he constantly catches his brothers playing pranks and gives them detention and takes them off.

"What about your brother Charlie?" Hagrid asked hurriedly, turning to me. "I really liked him: he was too good with animals."

Had Hagrid deliberately changed the subject? While I was telling Hagrid about Charlie, who studies dragons in a nature reserve with access from Romania, Harry picked up a piece of paper that was lying on the table under the cover for the kettle. It was a clipping from The Prophet. Harry started discussing the safe robbery with Hagrid, but Hagrid just mumbled and looked away. It's all strange. Why would the forester keep this particular clipping if there were no other newspapers?

After lunch, I sat on a log outside Hagrid's hut and thoughtfully scratched the Brat behind the ears. He squinted sleepily and occasionally clicked his teeth, as if he was dreaming of chasing a cat. I put an orange ribbon soaked in a parasite potion that Percy asked me to make around my rat's neck.

"Hagrid, where do you have... well, at Hogwarts... can you get cereal for a rat?" I finally asked. "I thought Madame Moore had a Fluffy Tail in the store, but there's only bird and cat food.

Hagrid looked up from fixing the rope and looked at me with good-natured surprise:

"Grawn? Yn sicr. Mae gen i wenith, ceirch, a hyd yn oed haidd yn fy ngardd." Well, yes, Hagrid has a big vegetable garden. He told Harry and me that he was also feeding the animals in the forest. "I'll give you a bag, no problem."

He got up, slammed the barn door, and soon returned with a canvas bag that smelled deliciously of freshly harvested crops.

"Here you go. Just don't tell the other students that you took it from me, otherwise the pilgrimage will begin for food."

I beamed:

"Thanks, Hagrid! You're the best."

"It's nothing. Rats are a good thing. I remember one of my friends had a rat... well, come on, it's a long story."

I turned around, already pouring grain into the palm of the Brat's hand as I walked:

"What's the story?"

Hagrid waved his hand and smiled into his beard.

"Go on, or you'll be late for lunch at school." Harry had just come out of the booth behind the house. I still couldn't choose between the bags and kept babbling, as if the number of words would make the decision more obvious:

"And if the Brat is given a mixture with seeds? He's a rodent, rodents love sunflower seeds! Or is it too greasy? Hagrid, say something! I used to have a female, so she loved sunflower seeds very much. And Percy said he fed the Brat with grain seeds."

Hagrid stood with his legs apart and looked at I with a patient half-smile.

"Hush, hush. The ancestor is not a crystal vase. Let's see what I have here first...."

"Hagrid, can I add dried berries to him?"

"You can give me rosehip or blueberries with cranberries. I have some dried ones. Just not a lot, no more than three berries a week."

He reached into his super jacket and took out a couple of bags of berries.

"I like to nibble them myself. But let's get some sleep."

At that moment, the tabby cat, who had been digging up a bed of carrots with the air of a sovereign mistress of the garden, suddenly froze, pricked up her ears and darted to the side, as if someone had scared her off. And in its place, right out of the loose earth, a tiny gray muzzle appeared. The mouse quickly moved its nose, twitched its whiskers, and began busily rummaging around, as if checking if someone had buried something tasty here. Harry, who was just coming out from behind the cabbage patch where he was chasing the second cat, froze for a second, and then chuckled softly:

"Well, now the mouse is also spoiling the beds."

I immediately forgot about the bags and craned my neck:

"Where? Where's the mouse? Oh... what if her Forefather gets scared of her? He might be a rat, but suddenly..."

"May he not be afraid of anyone" Hagrid snorted, but there was a sparkle in his eyes. "I have a whole republic of rodents in my garden. Everyone is used to each other. This mouse is not his enemy, and she is not afraid of him."

The mouse, as if hearing these words, froze for a moment, sniffed again, and then darted into a narrow gap between two stones at the edge of the garden bed - and seemed to disappear. The cat, who was watching all this from a safe distance, snorted in disappointment, as if she was offended that the prey had disappeared so quickly.

"You see," Hagrid nodded at the empty spot where the mouse had been swarming. There's a lot of life here. And the beds are suffering, and everyone has something to do.

Harry smiled and brushed a blade of grass off his robes.

"But the Brat will definitely not be bored here." That's for sure," boomed Hagrid. "Okay, stop looking at the mouse. You can let your pet out to take a walk in the garden while we drink tea. Let me pour a little out of each bag for you, mix it up, and see what he likes best."

I beamed:

"Precisely! He'll choose for himself! Percy was telling me how smart his rat was."

Hagrid began to measure out the grain, and Harry took another look at the garden where the mouse had set up its excavations. It suddenly occurred to him that this was the special comfort of Hagrid's hut: everything is alive here, everything is in a hurry, swarming, making noise - and at the same time everything somehow gets along with each other.

After chatting a little more, we went home. On the way, Harry talked about the package that Hagrid took from the bank on the day of the robbery. Hmm, and what was there? Do I even need to get involved in this?

We came just in time for an afternoon snack. Harry helped himself to a handful of walnuts, and I asked the elves for hazelnuts.

In the evening, I went for a walk with the Brat, grabbing carrots from a bowl and a bag of cereals. I was just getting a piece of carrot out of my bag for the Brat when that same gray cat, Selena, stepped out of the shadows. She slowly approached, sniffed, and her glowing green eyes focused on the rat, which was crunching into a vegetable.

I instinctively covered the Brat with my palm.

"Hey, don't touch him! He's not a pest, he's... mine!"

The cat, instead of rushing at the rat, only tilted its head slightly, as if considering my words, and then let out a melodious "meow" - almost mocking. Then she stretched out her paw and gently, with the tips of her claws, lightly pushed a piece of carrot that had fallen out of her weakened paws towards the Brat.

The rat, undeterred, picked up the treat and stared at the cat with obvious approval. A brownie appeared around the corner.

"Oh, have you met yet?" He said cheerfully. "Selena knows who belongs and who doesn't. She senses if the animal is a pet or just a pest. Your brat is a pet, so she won't hurt him."

"Really?" I breathed out a sigh of relief. "And I was scared... we had wild cats living next to our house, they were constantly chasing him."

"The magical cats of Hogwarts are not just hunters," The brownie lowered his voice, as if sharing a great secret. "They sense magic and intent. And they protect those who are not evil. You see, she even treated your rat. It's a sign of respect."

Selena, as if confirming his words, gracefully turned around and, raising her tail high, disappeared into the shadows. The brat, after finishing the carrots, made a pleased squeak, as if thanking for an unexpected gift.

"Okay," I smiled, untying the bag of seeds and putting them on the bowl I'd brought from the bedroom. It looks like you've got a patron here. Just don't get too used to the free treats! I'm still your master, and I'll feed you myself.

I went back to the bedroom.

I took a small paper bag out of my pocket and carefully poured three maroon berries into my palm.

"It's rosehip," I explained a little sheepishly, as if I was afraid they'd laugh at me. "Hagrid said it was good for rats. The brat busily sniffed the treat, grabbed one berry and dragged it to his corner, as if it were the greatest treasure.