"Crookshanks, Hermione's pet." Harry introduced him with a puzzled look, "I remember you were only afraid of spiders, when did you become afraid of cats?"

Ron stared at Crookshanks and said cautiously, "I'm not afraid of cats. I met one in a pet store."

"Huh?" Harry continued to wonder, "You were beaten by a cat?"

Ron was embarrassed and annoyed: "No, how is it possible? I didn't. Will I be beaten by a cat?"

Crookshanks shook his head, and nestled into Hermione's arms, grumbling in dissatisfaction.

"Hermione, you must hold it." Ron took out his mouse while keeping an eye on it. "Scabbers has been in a bad state since returning from Egypt."

It became thinner, more listless, its fur became as dry as weeds, and it looked sickly.

"I took it to the pet store for a checkup, and the clerk said there was nothing wrong with it. Maybe it was just too old." Ron sighed and poked Scabbers' head.

Everything he owns is second-hand.

Pets are no exception.

But pets are different from ordinary objects after all. They are living things and it is easy to develop emotions.

Scabbers was ugly and even disabled, with a missing toe, but he managed to survive for more than two years. It was emotionally difficult for Ron to watch him die.

"Just when I was about to buy some rat tonic, this damn cat pounced on me and almost ate Scabbers!" Ron gritted his teeth. "Luckily Scabbers was smart and ran away. I had to search for a long time before I found him."

Hermione was stunned, and her eyes involuntarily fell on the book she had just read.

It is natural for a cat to catch a mouse.

But the words she had just seen kept circling in her mind, making her vaguely feel that something was wrong.

She looked at Harry again, his expression remained unchanged, and asked with concern, "How old is Scabbers?"

Ron was stunned, frowned and shook his head: "I don't know, but it was Bill's pet a long time ago. Bill gave it to Percy. After Percy became a prefect and had an owl, he gave Scabbers to me."

"That's at least thirteen years." Harry said with some emotion, "For a mouse, that's a long life."

Ron didn't notice anything wrong. He sighed and looked at Hermione: "At least let Scabbers die of old age. Don't let it die in Crookshanks' mouth."

Hermione opened her mouth, wanting to say something.

Harry raised his hand and poked Crookshanks on the head: "Did you hear me? Don't do anything to Scabbers."

Crookshanks bared his teeth, his beard twitched, and he meowed unwillingly, turned his head and nudged himself into Hermione's arms again.

My cat's life from now on will be a bit bleak.

Met such a dangerous person.

They talked for a while, and then Ron waved his hand and said he would go home first.

"Scabbers may not be an ordinary mouse!" After Ron's figure disappeared from sight, Hermione held Crookshanks' head and spoke impatiently.

"I know." Harry nodded, thought for a moment, took out a few pieces of owl rations from his pocket, and handed them to Crookshanks. "What do you think it might be?"

Hermione frowned.

Crookshanks turned his head in disgust and sniffed. The smell was somewhat appealing.

It paused, then used its claws to sweep the food into its mouth.

The cat's eyes lit up instantly.

He stepped on Hermione's knees, jumped into Harry's arms, nudged him with his head in a flattering manner, and swept his tail, looking extremely happy.

"I still like the rebellious look you had just now." Harry teased Crookshanks.

Aunt Petunia's skills always allow her to subdue these magical creatures with great accuracy.

Hermione flipped through the book.

As it got dark, she put the book down in disappointment. "I didn't find it. Banban doesn't look like any magical creature. It looks like an ordinary squirrel."

"Why do you think it has to be a magical creature?" Harry rubbed Crookshanks' belly. It lay there with its belly exposed and snored. "It could be something else."

"He?" Hermione was stunned. This was a personal word referring to a male. "You mean he might be an Animagus?"

Harry nodded.

"Isn't this... unlikely?" Hermione hesitated. "Scabbers has been a pet for thirteen years."

"Mice can't live that long, but people can." Harry stroked Crookshanks' tail, "You have to try to trust your pet."

Crookshanks echoed his words with a lazy meow.

"But if a wizard stays in the Animagus state for too long, there is a high possibility that he will be assimilated by the Animagus and eventually turn into a real beast." Hermione frowned.

She followed Harry and knew a little about Animagus.

"Who knows?" Harry looked down and took out the amulet, "but it should be harmless, no malicious intent is sensed."

"And it has been in the Weasley family for thirteen years. If it wanted to do something, it would have done it long ago."

Hermione nodded in agreement: "It couldn't have predicted that the Weasleys would win a jackpot thirteen years later."

It's not worth it to work so hard just for a few hundred gold galleons.

They chatted for a while longer, and Hermione left with Crookshanks in her arms.

After Harry had a drink in the Leaky Cauldron, he also borrowed the fireplace and went back.

As Professor Flitwick was eagerly waiting, the first day of school finally arrived.

The evening of August 31st.

There was a knock on the door.

Professor Flitwick opened the door and a group of Aurors filed in, led by an old acquaintance, Scrimgeour, whom he had met once at Hogwarts.

"What are you doing here?" Flitwick frowned. "I haven't received any notice from the Ministry of Magic."

Scrimgeour waved his hand and said with a smile: "My dear Professor Flitwick, relax a little, we are here to protect Mr. Potter."

"After all, you know that the man escaped, and his target is most likely Potter."

Harry poked his head out and looked at him calmly, "The Ministry of Magic is going to protect my safety? Are you sure?"

Scrimgeour's eyelids twitched, remembering what happened in the castle this year, but he nodded. "Of course."

"In terms of my ability, I can protect your safety, right?" Harry didn't give him any face. "Mr. Scrimgeour, these Aurors..."

"This is an order from the Ministry of Magic," Scrimgeour interrupted him, trying to save his last bit of face.

"I'm not Professor Dumbledore." Harry waved his wand and the floor surged like waves.

Except for a few Aurors who held their wands and managed to keep themselves standing, nearly half of them didn't have time to react, fell to the ground, and rolled over and were sent out by Harry.

"Look." Harry spread his hands, looking innocent.

Scrimgeour shook his head. "Mr. Potter, the Ministry of Magic needs to convince others that we are protecting you."

"For the sake of our joint efforts in dealing with the basilisk..."

Harry whispered, "Mr. Scrimgeour, are you going to issue me a commission?"

Scrimgeour was stunned.

The scene of Harry and Snape bargaining emerged in his mind. He hardened his heart and nodded: "If this is okay."