I, the Prisoner of Azkaban

Chapter Four: An extraordinary acquaintance

I must have imagined it.

The cat is clearly not an Animagus. But then, how can it...

Its tail is still swinging furiously. Correction: His tail. Something I cannot name, something as vague and undefinable as the question of how I understand them, tells me that this cat is a male... the smell, perhaps... this is getting weirder and weirder. Perhaps I have become more dog-like during the long time that I have spent in this form?

We are still staring at each other, neither one of us moving, both of us alert and waiting for the other one. What is that flickering in his eyes? Yes, actually amusement -how strange- mixed with.. contempt. Bloody humans, he seems to think, can't even leave us alone in our own territory. But although his next hiss seems to confirm my assumption, it takes me completely by surprise.

"Two of you."

I would freeze to the spot if that were possible, but I am already still as a stone. Two of us?

I blink, for the first time in minutes (I realize, as the water shoots to my eyes) and try hard to think. I have to figure out how to speak to the cat. It must be possible, I must talk to him, find out...

But before I can even open my mouth, the cat turns away from me abruptly, tail held arrogantly high, and stalks away towards the castle. Yes, I understand the message even without another hiss. New acquaintance: rejected.

**

To my surprise, he is back the next day. I probably should not pride myself on being able to read animals, I think, as I watch him staring at me from the corner of the clearing that has become my new residence. No, he certainly hasn't come to talk - he wants to watch me, make sure that I am still at a safe distance from the castle. There must be someone in there he's protecting, probably his owner... the image of a cat shielding a young wizard or witch from an enormous black dog amuses me for a moment, but I must admit to myself that his glowing eyes make me uncomfortable.

He found the part of the Forest where I sleep almost instantly, of course. Although cats aren't nearly as good as dogs when it comes to smelling others, he must have picked up on me and followed me right here. Not afraid of the Forest? This cat does not seem to be afraid of anything. There have been other animals who came here and attempted to take over the territory, but even given my overwhelming tiredness and exhaustion, I still manage to frighten them enough to leave me alone. He, however... but then he knows I'm human.

Knows? How the bloody hell can he know?

How long will he sit there just staring at me? I ask myself after a long while, growling. I need food. If the cat is planning on doing this for the rest of the day, I will starve to death right here on the spot. Maybe that is his final aim? What a creative way of getting rid of an enemy.

I will have to ignore it. I start off into the other direction, further into the Forest, in grim determination to find food, to kill whatever is necessary so as not to collapse from weakness. There is no sound behind me. The cat hasn't moved, apparently...

... but when I come back to the clearing, long after sunset, the glowing eyes are back. In the same corner. He surely cannot have stayed there all evening? I tear apart the bits and pieces I have found and swallow quickly, too hungry to notice what it is that I am eating, too dazed to realize what it was even when I hunted it.

The cat watches me silently. I feel his eyes in the back of my head and turn around, wincing. I cannot stand being watched without watching as well.

So here we are again, staring at each other.

**

He has not been here for a few days. I should be glad, I might finally be able to focus again, but something inside me wonders whether he will come back. Did I scare him away for good?

Days, weeks passed like that, him turning up in my path almost every day, always at a different hour, always surprising me. At the beginning it upset me, and I made some leaps in his direction, at times also too hungry to think straight, too weak to remember what he had said. I did not remember that at all for a while. My thoughts were elsewhere... focussed on the rat, or on the past, or on several persons from past and present... the cat always observed me quietly during my restless pacing over the clearing, during my outbursts of rage when nothing in my path was safe... but he was never afraid. And I was beginning to get used to his presence. I remembered those three words that he had muttered, I knew now that I had not imagined them. I grew more and more eager to talk to him... but I did not dare approach him yet. I tried to suppress my impatience, but that is not a very easy thing to do these days...

How many nights ago was it? Two or three... or was it yesterday? I was lying in the grass, in my dog shape, feeling too exhausted from my last hunt to move or think, but I could not fall asleep. I had transformed to make it easier, but I still couldn't, they were still there in my head, laughing...

A rustle in the bushes, at the familiar place. I lifted my head to greet the cat with a look, and he settled down on the grass - a bit closer than normal, and suddenly the urge was overwhelming. To hell with giving it time. I took the little strength I had left and lifted my heavy body from the ground. The cat stood up almost instantly, an alert look in his eyes, I stepped back, and focussing all my attention on my thoughts, I growled. This had to be the way it worked... but the cat showed no sign of recognition, and when I took a step forward, it turned around and fled into the bushes.

I sigh involuntarily. No use thinking about that, it could have worked, but at the same time I should have concentrated on more urgent things and not spend my time trying to befriend a cat. Someone I knew a long time ago would have cracked up laughing at the mere thought of it. Laughing.

I have gathered some strength during this time that I stayed in the Forest, a time that felt like an eternity. It is certainly not much, but enough to keep me going, enough to be planning a new try. I'm growing sick of waiting, I cannot wait any longer. Oh yes, the lust for revenge has grown with my strength, considerably more so in comparison... yet something else is driving me now, something I am thinking about more and more. Harry.

It's stupid. I am becoming obsessed with saving a child who hates me. But he is my godson... he is all that's left, and he is right in hating me, as I am sure he does. He has every reason for it. And he does not know... nobody knows that Voldemort's -I grit my teeth when I think the name- right hand is there at Hogwarts with him, most probably in the same House... in the same dormitory? No, I have to act. Quickly.

But acting feels impossible before I've slept... or tried to, at least...

**

"Hello, Sirius."

I try and open my bleary eyes far enough to see whom the voice belongs to. No, I know who it is... I just don't want to believe it... everything in front of my eyes is slightly blurred, my eyes would feel so much better if I just closed them, but I have to find out...

It is, indeed, him.

He is sitting on the chair, his elbows on his knees, his chin resting on his hands. Carelessly. Almost cheerfully. He stares at down at me, lying on the floor, in a mixture of pity and disdain. "How thin you've become." His voice is dripping with false sympathy. Only now do I realize who he is, who he really is...

Not just Peter. Not my friend. Wormtail.

A low, angry growl escapes my mouth. I try and sit up, but my movements are sort of slowed down, I cannot seem to get control over my limbs, they feel as if drawn to the floor, as if gravity has suddenly increased tenfold. It takes me all of my strength to turn around to face him, I am still lying on the floor in a crooked angle, resting all of my weight on my elbow. I fix my eyes on him, full of rage, full of sheer hatred, but he does not seem impressed.

He is smiling. Smiling. "What shall we get James and Lily for their wedding, Sirius?"

Get at his throat. My hands twitch madly, but Wormtail stands up and holds up his hands, and it is now my throat that is pressed together, I am gasping for air, but there is nothing, Wormtail is standing over me, looking at me with a look I have never seen on him before, a cold, cruel look, and I can hear his voice, squeaking highly in a theatrical imitation of a small, frightened wizard "Lily and James, Sirius, how could you??" and he laughs... a high, squeaky, hysterical laugh... I try to get away from him, I cannot breathe, I crawl towards the bars, but there is no refuge there... they are there, the creatures, my whole sight is blocked with creatures standing in front of my cell and watching me silently as I twitch around on the floor, I turn around to see that Wormtail has disappeared, but he has done enough damage to let the creatures relish in their silent little feast... the cold is wrapping itself around me... every part of my head is screaming... I cannot transform... I cannot get out...

Something touches me head, softly. Instantly, the cold is gone.

I open my eyes slowly. For the split of a second, I wonder if I will see the little girl looking at me timidly, fearfully, sympathetically. And suddenly I panic, because I realize that I am not in my dog form.

But it is not the girl at all. It is the cat.

He is sitting mere inches away from me, studying me silently, and I can see a little flicker of the girl's emotions in his eyes. Sympathy.

"Demons in your sleep."

I heave myself upwards slowly, carefully, but the cat does not seem to run away this time. I pull myself into a sitting position and study the cat, for my part.

Did I just understand it?

My head is so dazed that I cannot even decide if I imagined this, and in case I did not, whether it hissed, or spoke. Can this cat speak?

It seems to read my thoughts, and unless I am very much mistaken, its eyes are smiling now. "Speak, I understand."

A very low hiss. No, it is not speaking. Not like a human, at least. And no, I have not imagined it. My God. My ears hear the hiss, but a very small part of my brain that I didn't even know existed can actually understand the hiss.

I gulp. "You - understand me?" I whisper, not trusting my voice to carry. I have not used it in a long time.

"But yes." He sounds infinitely amused.

"And I understand you."

The cat yawns. An imitation of human behaviour? "You understand me."

"Why?"

"You are human and dog." He does not seem delighted with either word. But then, I am not used to his voice at all, how can I interpret it?

For a moment I just stare at him, at a loss for words. He begins licking himself, a typical behaviour for a cat. He does not seem to mind my eyes boring into him at all. Or is he amusing himself with watching my startled expression?

"You see the rat?" he asks, suddenly. I wince, and my hand goes to my throat in a reflex... my eyes are still fixed on him, staring incredulously. I still find myself wondering whether I am hallucinating after every one of his hisses. "The rat?"

"In your sleep."

I become aware that my head is shaking, slowly. This is becoming too unbelievable for me to take in. What is this cat?

"Where did you see the rat?" I ask, unable to keep my body from trembling, the dream still haunting me, I have to resist the urge to look around me frantically, to run.

"In the boy's pocket."

"The boy?" I am hoping he means him, but I cannot be sure.

"The boy. With the other boy and the girl." I cannot stop to marvel at the fact that he can make distinctions in human gender. Somehow, the way he says "the girl" differs from all of what he has said, and I begin to realize that to understand this cat, I will have to interpret every slight alternation in his tone.

"The girl is your owner?" I call myself back almost instantly after having said this, and sure enough, he hisses loudly, disapprovingly. "I mean, you stay with the girl?" He blinks his assent. "So the girl and the two boys are together often?" Again, an affirmative - well, cat equivalent of a nod.

I wrap my arms around my body, suddenly aware how cold it is. My mind automatically jumps to the newspaper's date, the last indication I had of a date, and tries to make a connection to the coldness. Connections are what it finds a bit hard these days. But yes, it must be October already. After October comes November, if I remember correctly. I must act before I freeze to death... how entirely pointless that would be.

The cat has been stretching itself, seemingly unimpressed by my shivering. But, still, sitting this close to me. I must try and explain it to him. Make him help me.

"The rat is actually human, too." He stares up at me, and I'm sure that if he were a human, he would raise his eyebrows and look at me sourly. The corner of my mouth twitches in what would be a smile, were it not for the image of Wormtail still inside of my mind. "But of course you know that already."

Obviously contented with my assessment of his abilities, his look is now more attentive, encouraging me to go on. "What did he do to you?"

I stiffen, and for a moment I can see the reflection of my emotions in his eyes. Of course, if animals communicate like this, he will be able to read me better than I can read him. "He killed."

The cat does not seem to think that this is enough of a crime, enough to justify what he saw in my eyes. I remind myself that animals, even an extraordinarily intelligent animal, will have slightly different views on morals than we do. I do not even know why, but I feel the strong urge to explain it to him. Somehow I know that he will help me already, probably eager to get the half-rat-half-human out of the girl's life, but perhaps also willing to support me. But I have to make him understand. I cannot translate this into animal emotions... maybe he understands humans better than I do animals?

"He killed two of my best friends, he betrayed them." Saying this is harder than I thought. My voice, which I raised above a whisper a while ago, is breaking. The cat is looking at me intently. "Friends..." he repeats, and he seems unable to grasp the meaning of this word. I am wondering how to rephrase, when he hisses again, and I realize -for good- that it is wrong to underestimate this cat in any way. "He was a friend too?"

My teeth pressed tightly together, my hands clenched into fists, I nod.

**