novelraw Chapter 94: The Old Cat's Revenge, Ten Years Is Not Too Late (Crookshanks's Perspective)
Chapter 94: The Old Cat's Revenge, Ten Years Is Not Too Late (Crookshanks's Perspective)
Chapter Ninety-Four: Extra Chapter 6: The Old Cat's Revenge, Ten Years Is Not Too Late (Crookshanks's Perspective)
My name is Crookshanks, and I'm probably the cleverest but also the most depressed cat in the world.
I am not one of those casual, ordinary house cats from a pet shop. As a hybrid of a noble magical creature, a Kneazle, and a Persian cat, foolish humans are not worthy to be my owner.
Don't get me wrong, I'm very likable.
I used to have an owner. Back then, I was a carefree, optimistic little cat, and I wasn't called Crookshanks.
I've long forgotten what my name was back then—it's been many years since anyone called me by that name.
All I remember is my owner, who had beautiful, long red hair that was even more lustrous than my ginger fur.
People liked to call her "Lily." She liked to read while gently stroking me. She looked at me with a smile in her bright green eyes. She was always very kind to me and prepared my favorite dried fish for me.
I liked her. I liked to lie before her, on her lap, or beside her.
Her husband, "James," was a born scoundrel. He always loved to tease me, making fun of my flat face three times a day. Every time I tried to catch that rat, he'd grab me by the scruff of the neck and throw me outside, forbidding me from bullying his friend.
Friend? Pshaw! I've never had a friend who smelled so awful!
Her son, Harry, was as mischievous as his father. He always liked to ride around the house on his toy broomstick, and he loved to scare me for no reason.
Alas! Human cub—what can you do with him?
Not only can you not get angry, you also have to worry about whether he'll fall off the toy broomstick and land on his bottom!
Oh, and that bloke who bought him the broomstick—Sirius Black—is the worst person ever! He always turns into a big black dog to scare me! Just because I want to catch rats!
Aside from that, this cat was happy and had nothing to complain about.
But I never expected that the happy days would be so short-lived.
On Halloween morning, I finished my usual patrol of Godric's Hollow and returned home triumphantly, only to find it in ruins.
People came from all directions, pointing and talking about my once beautiful home.
I frantically jumped into the ruins, searching for my mistress—Lily was lying on the ground, motionless, her beautiful eyes wide open, with dried tear stains at the corners of her eyes.
I licked her cold face with my rough tongue—she was probably just playing with me—but she didn't react at all.
I meowed and pleaded, hoping she'd glance at me.
Her stiff gaze remained fixed on the empty cot in the middle of the room.
Where is my little master? I jumped onto his little bed. The blanket was still warm, but he was gone.
Harry must be hiding somewhere, planning to jump out and scare me.
But I searched every corner.
Under the bed, on top of the wardrobe, behind the sofa. None of them.
The toy broomstick fell to the ground inexplicably—a testament to his absence—the little hands that used to hold it were nowhere to be seen.
Something's wrong. Nothing's right.
This must be a Halloween prank. They're all trying to scare me.
The male head of the household is always the one who loses his composure the most.
I went back to the stairwell to look at James, wanting to expose the weak points in this ruse.
I glared at him and then brazenly stepped on his face.
He didn't move at all, and didn't grab me by the scruff of the neck and punish me as usual.
Something's wrong with him.
I unusually fawned over him, hoping he'd go see Lily and look for Harry.
But he remained unmoved, completely irresponsible, unwilling to look for his wife and son, and even unwilling to make fun of me.
I bared my teeth and yowled at him, clawing at the new robes Lily had bought for him, even willing to let him grab me by the scruff of the neck and throw me out!
But he was as cold as stone.
The people who'd gathered exclaimed, "Merlin, who did this?"
Lily and James—their eyes were empty, devoid of any light.
People snatched them from my claws, saying they'd bury them.
Bury them.
Why bury them?
They're not dried fish! Why bury them?
In short, I lost everything.
What's the point of living? I slammed my head against the hard wall beside me, intending to follow Lily in death.
But I didn't die. I'm a magical creature—how could a wall kill me?
The only difference is that my face seems to be flatter from the impact.
I heard voices from the crowd.
Some people said, "This cat is so pitiful."
Someone tried to reach out and touch me.
I bared my teeth at them and jumped from a corner of the second-floor bombed-out building.
There was no turning back.
From then on, I became a grumpy, pessimistic ugly cat.
I should have had a happy and fulfilling family. I shouldn't have had to experience such displacement.
The only thing I should've been worried about in my cat life was how to become the king of cats in Godric's Hollow!
I was supposed to be patted on the head by Lily my whole life, grabbed by the scruff of the neck by James my whole life, and scared by Harry riding his toy broomstick my whole life.
And spend my whole life cursing that big black dog and that werewolf, and my whole life wanting to catch that wretched rat!
Now, now, all of that was broken.
During that time, the flowers I saw were withered. The sky I saw was filled with gloom. The sounds I heard were very distant, and the sunlight often seemed blinding.
I always acted like I was impotently furious. Muggles call this depression.
I wandered around in a fit of impotent rage for a while, and finally returned to Diagon Alley in a daze.
This was where it all started—where I'd first met Lily.
I lay down again in the spot in the pet shop where I used to lie, waiting for her to come find me.
Lily, James, Harry, you've gone too far with your joke, you know that?
You've gone too far by treating a cat like this.
That's outrageous.
Never mind.
I forgive you.
When you've had your fun, come find me. I'll be here after you've finished playing Halloween games.
Yes, I understand now. You're playing a game. A Halloween prank.
How could you scare a cat like that?
The cats around me scurried away in fear—they'd already experienced my sharp teeth and claws.
People wanted to buy me, but they were always scared away by my bad temper. I'd yell at them fiercely, spewing out a truckload of profanities.
Although to them it was just meowing, my demeanor was always intimidating.
Days passed by.
They didn't come.
Never.
From the scattered conversations among the pet shop employees, I finally understood.
There had never been any Halloween farce.
They died.
Died.
They didn't scare me.
Lily, James, guess what? I can be scared by you.
It's all right. As long as you don't die, I can be scared.
It doesn't matter how many times.
—As long as you don't die.
But people said that only one person did not die.
Lily's son—my little master—Harry—survived a terrible ordeal and became a celebrity in the wizarding world.
A faint sense of anticipation arose in my heart. Perhaps my little master would come here to find me someday.
I suddenly remembered that day when the people who'd gathered said, "Merlin, who did this?"
Who did it?
Whoever did it, one day I will take my revenge.
I will join my young master in seeking revenge.
I started forcing myself to eat cat food properly. The cat food didn't smell as good as the dried fish Lily gave me, but I wasn't so picky anymore.
I need to work hard to become stronger.
I grind my teeth and claws every day, and fight with other cats three times a day, afraid that I'll grow old before I can wait for him.
Unfortunately, my wishful thinking ultimately failed. I've been waiting for him for almost ten years, hoping and hoping, but he's never come.
A respectable little wizard—can't he even afford a pet? He's a disgrace to Lily.
Later, I heard that some fool took it upon himself to buy a snowy owl for my young master—no wonder he didn't come looking for me.
This is such a sad missed opportunity...
Destroy it, I'm tired...
"I guess this is how I'll live my life," I thought to myself as I sharpened my claws.
Even if my little master doesn't come to me, I will still go to him.
Someday.
Later, I heard that the person who betrayed Lily and James had been caught.
Got him!
I didn't even get revenge or go to find my master before someone took care of it for me.
My years of anger were like a balloon without a string—it deflated before it even burst.
My little master has his own beloved pet, so he won't come looking for me anymore.
Harry has probably forgotten about me.
In this world, nobody remembers me.
Gradually, I lost my fighting spirit and turned from a muscular, strong cat into a fat, lazy bum... Sigh!
Later, when I was trying to drift through life aimlessly, a brown-haired witch came into the shop.
She wants to pick a pet.
As always, I bared my teeth and hissed, hoping to scare her away.
Yes, that's it. A flicker of surprise crossed her eyes, and then she'd definitely turn around and go find another docile, well-behaved cat... I lazily licked my paws, already anticipating her reaction...
Unexpectedly, she still bought me.
I was pulled into her arms and left the shop completely bewildered.
Who am I? Where am I? Is it too late to regret it now?
I should have pounced on her and shown her my claws.
However, the moment I lunged at her, I smelled a very faint scent on her.
A familiar scent.
The scent I will never forget—the scent of my little master.
Harry.
She must know Harry. She smells like Harry.
She may have shaken hands with Harry, or even hugged him.
She might be friends with Harry.
Harry.
I endured it, being held by her, and willingly left the shop, my eyes scanning the sunlit street, regardless of whether the sunlight hurt my eyes.
I saw the boy with black hair.
My little master!
Harry!!!
Harry! I've finally met you! You look just like your dad—both are such gits!
But your green eyes are exactly the same as Lily's...
Exactly the same!
I excitedly called out to him for ages, but he didn't respond at all.
He doesn't remember me at all.
Foolish humans! They didn't inherit even a fraction of Lily's intelligence.
Fine, I'll just have to work diligently for my new mistress, Hermione.
She likes to stroke my fur and cuddle me while reading. In this respect, she's quite like Lily.
I haven't gotten angry because I miss Lily in a very long time.
When I miss Lily terribly, I can stare into her son's emerald green eyes.
It could be considered a substitute for Lily, albeit barely.
I also met some new foolish humans, one with red hair and another with platinum-blond hair... Their fur was fairly healthy, but not as good-looking as mine.
I have a slightly better feeling about the platinum-blond boy. Because he's the one who caught the culprit who caused my eternal separation from Lily.
Anyone who avenges me is my brother.
I returned to Hogwarts. I relearned to be a dutiful pet cat. I slowly regained some of my feline instincts, and I was no longer homeless.
It seems like I've found love again.
I even dared to go out and play, to play in the Forbidden Forest.
The Forbidden Forest is truly teeming with everything: rats, rats, and even more rats... I hate rats!
I catch rats every day. I want to catch a rat that's really different from the rest.
It was ugly, but it was a little cleverer than a normal rat.
It was a filthy Animagus that had run away from Azkaban.
I bet it will come to Hogwarts, and I'll be the cat to end it.
More than a decade ago, I wanted to eat that rat, but James always grabbed me by the scruff of the neck and wouldn't let me.
The person who grabbed me by the scruff of the neck is no longer here.
I'll see who can stop me now!
It was a day when the moon was almost full. My cat's intuition told me it was a good day for revenge.
I chased after a rat that ran out from near the dungeons. Its scent was familiar.
I've smelled it, or rather, him.
He'd once solemnly declared to Lily and James that he'd be the Secret-Keeper.
This most ridiculous Secret-Keeper in the world hid in Hagrid's hut—the same bloke who'd given my young master that snowy owl without permission.
It's all right, I can wait. I followed him all the way to the Whomping Willow.
This is the place.
I listened to the call of my heart and waited in the tree.
He goes in from here, and he will surely come out from here. That's how they've always done it all those years.
They came out. He wasn't in rat form. I was very disappointed and just stared blankly as they walked away.
Then, suddenly, after a long wait that had exhausted almost all my patience, I finally got to that moment.
At that moment, I saw the bald man grinning and say, "No one can catch me," before he transformed into a giant rat and ran back toward the gap beneath the Whomping Willow next to me.
This is the moment.
I darted down the tree like an arrow, knocked him unconscious with a single swipe of my claw, and bit off half of his head.
Yes.
No one can catch you.
But I am a noble cat—not a foolish "person"!
I seized the only chance for revenge that fate had given me.
James, you brainless git, this was such a simple thing!
You should have let me eat him ages ago!
As I watched the humans stare in disbelief, I contemptuously chewed on the rat's head, making a crunching sound.
The taste of revenge is sweet!
An eye for an eye—it's no big deal.
You ruined my cat life, you ruined my Lily, so I'll ruin you.
Lily's darling—Hermione's poor little thing—the rat terminator—a vengeful spirit—Crookshanks, keeping his merits and fame hidden.
I want to warn all the foolish humans who want to destroy my family: stay away from me!
Otherwise, you'll be the next Peter Pettigrew!
Meow!