Harry hadn't stopped thinking about Ron and how upset Ron was about Scabbers being gone. It was doubly horrible with Hermione and Ron fighting because usually Hermione was the one who was best at being on the compassionate side, but Ron wasn't having anything to do with her, making jabs at her every chance he could because of Crookshanks, and seeing as it was her cat that'd done it, Harry reckoned Hermione was avoiding them right back because she was busy feeling guilty. Ron's brothers were no help, either. Fred and George didn't understand why Ron was upset in the first place, seeing as Scabbers was such a lame pet anyway, and Percy was too busy to take much notice of his brother's upset. Ginny was trying - she was concerned for Ron's feelings, but in the way of taking tea to her brother in the common room and Ron would accept the tea cup then look at Harry helplessly.
"If she gives me another cup of tea, I swear I'll never drink the stuff again," he complained under his breath.
So it was very exciting to Harry that he had the Firebolt and could offer his sad mate something to focus on that wasn't his dead rat. So on Tuesday he was really excited after classes to take the broomstick out for the first time, and promised Ron that he could take a spinner on the Firebolt to cheer him up. "Great!" Ron had said when Harry suggested that the pair of them go down early for the final practice before Gryffindor was scheduled to take on Ravenclaw. "Can I try and shoot a few goals on it?" Ron begged.
"Sure you can!" Harry said, grinning because Ron was, "We'll have to get the quaffle from Madam Hooch but she won't mind, I'm sure!"
In fact, Madam Hooch was more than willing to accompany the boys out to the pitch a bit early. She was set to oversee all the practices on the pitch - ever since the incident with the dementors, Dumbledore had insisted nobody be on the grounds unaccompanied by one of the members of staff. Madam Hooch was just as impressed with the Firebolt as everyone else had been, and it was with great enjoyment that she set herself down in the stands to watch the boys as they swept across the pitch, reminiscing about a Silver Arrow make that she'd had when she was younger.
"Must've been ages ago," Ron whispered under his breath, "They discontinued those when my Dad was in school. I know because that's the model he had."
The shaggy black dog lay in the dark under the quidditch supplies shed, his eyes peering beadily from the bushes that grew in front. He peered out between leaves at the pitch, able to see only a little bit of what was going on. A little bit was better than nothing at all, he reckoned, and his eyes followed the players in their Gryffindor robes as they moved about the pitch like streaks of crimson and gold color. He'd gotten what he had come for, though - a glimpse of Harry Potter astride the Firebolt.
YES. Yes. Yes. Yes. Look at him. LOOK AT HIM. He looks just like a pro, doesn't he? With that broomstick! Snuffles trembled.
I've never understood the fascination with broomsticks. Between my Harry and my James, the pair of them always made such a big deal of broomsticks... Roger Crookshanks shuddered.
Snuffles teased, S'matter? You a scardey cat of being off the ground?
If I am, you, sir, would know the precise reason why.
If Sirius could've laughed as a dog, he would've done, but he could feel his insides trembling with the emotion of it anyway.
He watched with pride as the Gryffindor Caprain, whose name he had learned was Oliver Wood, released the snitch from the box and the little gold ball soared away. Sirius hadn't kept an eye on the thing for longer than it took for the little ball to be released, but within ten seconds Harry had landed, holding the ball aloft closed in his fist.
Bloody hell. He's - he may even be better than James. If that were possible.
He could sit there in the pitch and watch Harry play quidditch all day, and he really, really wanted to. Roger Crookshanks kept trying at reminding him they were supposed to be going to try and sneak into the dormitories while Harry and Ron were out (they didn't know about Scabbers of course, since Crookshanks hadn't actually been the reason for the rat's disappearance), but Sirius couldn't tear himself away.
The one and only thing that could possibly have distracted him from avenging James's and Lily's deaths was seeing how they were living on in their son, Harry.
There couldn't have been a better way, Sirius reckoned, to spend Lily's birthaversary.
It seemed Sirius was not the only Marauder who thought so. In the stands, Remus Lupin watched, leaning forward, elbows on his knees, biting his lips with excitement and pride.
And peering out from a dirty window in the locker rooms, a rat peered out through beady eyes as well...