When the viewing mirror flickered to life, Sirius waited impatiently, but there was still no sign of Harry.
"Do you think something's happened to Harry?" he asked, a note of worry creeping into his voice.
Not looking up from the stack of student essays he was sorting, Douglas replied, "No, nothing's wrong. I saw him heading toward the Quidditch pitch right after class."
Sirius did a quick mental calculation, then nodded and turned his attention back to the mirror.
This time, it was Douglas's turn to be curious. "Harry isn't even there—what are you watching for?"
Without taking his eyes off the mirror, Sirius answered, "I'm waiting for that Weasley kid to bring out that blasted traitor..."
Douglas didn't even glance up. "He hasn't brought Wormtail out lately."
Sirius spun around. "Why not?"
Douglas finally looked up, glancing at Ron on the other side of the mirror. "He came to me a few days ago, asking if there was something wrong with his rat. Apparently, Scabbers sleeps all day, but he just keeps getting healthier and fatter."
"I told him Scabbers is going through a transformation—after a year of hibernation, he'll have a second spring. Best not to disturb him. And, well, I gave him a new cage."
Sirius eyed Douglas suspiciously, hope flickering in his gaze. "It really is just an ordinary cage... You didn't, you know, slip anything weird into it?"
Douglas didn't blink. "Of course... not!"
But Sirius just stared at him, unconvinced.
Suddenly, Douglas grinned. "Alright, you caught me. I set up a nightmare charm inside the cage. As long as he sleeps in there, he'll have nothing but bad dreams..."
Sirius frowned. "And that's supposed to help?"
Douglas simply shook his head, offering no explanation.
Time always slips by quickly when you settle into a routine.
And lately, mouse-catching had become the hottest trend at Hogwarts.
Every corridor and nook was scoured by eager lower-year students. Some, undeterred by Mr. Filch's mocking sneers, even went so far as to ask the caretaker where the best mice could be found.
At first, following George and Fred's suggestion, Ron tried renting out Scabbers to classmates for practice. But Scabbers did nothing but eat and sleep—he wouldn't even run, not even when Hermione's ginger, bow-legged, squashed-faced cat, Crookshanks, carried him around in its mouth.
In the end, Ron had to stick Scabbers back in his cage and grumble about Hermione's cat.
"Honestly, I don't think Crookshanks is a normal cat. Scabbers isn't even scared of him. When you first bought him—"
Hermione shot him a glare. "Oh, shut up! Who was it that kept begging me not to buy Crookshanks because you were afraid he'd eat your precious Scabbers? Besides, Crookshanks prefers spiders..."
The word "spiders" was enough to make Ron edge away from Crookshanks, just in case the cat decided to spit one out at him.
Meanwhile, during morning runs, Professor Lupin had begun leading all the runners to the obstacle course. Unlike Douglas, Lupin started by explaining every challenge they'd face and which spells would help them overcome each one. He even borrowed the alchemical mouse from Douglas so students could practice.
At one point, Professor Lupin deftly returned the broomsticks that George and Fred had summoned with Summoning Charms.
"Brilliant idea," he praised. "In real battles, you should use everything at your disposal to your advantage. But for now, that's against the rules."
George protested, "But Professor, if you really wanted to catch a mouse, and didn't care if it survived, a Summoning Charm would do the trick..."
Fred chimed in, "Except this mouse seems to have some kind of counter-charm on it..."
A shadow flickered across Lupin's face—anger and sadness—but his voice remained gentle. "That's because you're not trying to catch an ordinary mouse."
His words left everyone exchanging confused glances.
(A Summoning Charm draws distant objects to the caster. To succeed, you have to focus on the item you want. The spell doesn't work on buildings—or most living creatures.)
In the Magic Practice Room, Professor Lupin's meticulously organized lists of obstacle and mouse-catching spells were a hit. Thanks to his and Douglas's reminders, not a single Head of House "accidentally" dropped any potion recipes this time around.
That afternoon, during third-year Gryffindor Defence Against the Dark Arts, Douglas noticed that Lavender Brown, usually a solid performer, seemed out of sorts. Twice, the mouse had already darted halfway across the room before she even remembered to cast a spell.
Douglas frowned. "Miss Brown, losing focus in a fight is never a good sign. Is something wrong?"
Lavender, who had only seemed distracted and sad before, suddenly covered her face and burst into tears.
Douglas was taken aback. Hermione and her roommate Parvati Patil hurried over, gently comforting Lavender. Parvati leaned in and explained quietly, "Professor, she got a letter from home this morning. Her rabbit, Binky, was killed by a fox."
It was clearly news to Hermione as well, who offered a soft, "I'm so sorry, Lavender..."
Douglas rubbed his temples, then addressed Lavender seriously. "Miss Brown, I'm truly sorry about your rabbit. But I hope you can keep your emotions out of the classroom. In here, it's just a lesson. Out there, it's a battlefield. If something happened to a friend during a fight, would you break down and cry?"
His words, a little louder than usual, drew the attention of nearby classmates.
Lavender hesitated, wiped her tears with her sleeve, and choked out, "Professor, I... I should have known. It's October sixteenth..."
Douglas was momentarily speechless. What kind of reason was that?
Suddenly, Seamus piped up, his voice solemn and loud, "October sixteenth! 'The thing you fear most will happen on this day.' Remember? Professor Trelawney was right!"
A ripple of shock passed through the crowd.
Douglas rolled his eyes. He'd already heard rumors about Trelawney's prophecy of Harry's doom. Now, over a month later, here it was again—another prophecy, another panic.
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