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Harry could confidently say that this was one of the most uncomfortable experiences he’d had all year. In fact, the whole day had really not been going his way. First Ron avoiding him, Potions with Snape continually leering at him plus the way the man had reacted to Harry’s being called to some Tournament ceremony. And now this. Smushed into a broom closet for an interview with probably the sleaziest woman he’d ever met.
He had been watching her Quick-Quotes-Quill with muted horror, as it changed his answers into hideous lies. He wished his name had never come out of the stupid goblet, that he could just cheer Cedric on with everyone else. He silently hoped that some spell or another would make the walls of the broom closet come to life and swallow him, just so he could get away from this situation.
His rescue came, not from the walls, but from a black blur that yowled and leapt over the crate that was being used as a table, snatching the quill out of the air. A cat had somehow gotten into the broom closet, and was now holding Rita Skeeter’s quill between its teeth. It was currently engaged in a staring contest with the reporter, its tail lashing back and forth.
In the light of the candles, Harry could make out the appearance of the cat. It was medium sized, with sleek short black fur. It had silver eyes surrounded by white fur that made it look like it was wearing a mask. It made Harry think of a raccoon. It also had white paws like socks. Harry wondered who the cat belonged to, and whether or not he could figure it out so he could thank them for letting their cat hide in random broom closets.
Rita Skeeter recovered from the theft quickly. “Oh, kitty...” She sing-songed “that quill there is mine, may I have it back?” She slowly approached the cat, hand outstretched, and cried in pain when all she got was claws in response. Anger filled her eyes and she lunged for the quill, but the cat only danced away.
Harry watched, enraptured as the reporter ineffectively chased the cat around the broom closet, never coming close to catching it, or getting her quill back. It went on like that for some time, with Rita Skeeter getting more angry and tired, until she finally stopped, hands on her sides as she panted, a look in her eye as she seemingly just remembered her wand. She drew it out, but before she could cast any spells, the cat, looking her directly in the eyes, cracked the quill between its teeth, chewing it into a sad crumpled broken stick.
Rita Skeeter deflated in shock, her mouth open in an O. The cat trotted, head held high, to a corner of the broom closet where, now that Harry was looking, was covered in the broken remains of Quick-Quotes-Quills. It dropped its new prize on top of the stack, then looked back at the reporter, and Harry swore he could see triumph in its eyes. Rita Skeeter checked her pockets, and her handbag and a look of horror grew across her face.
“You - YOU LITTLE SNEAK! YOU STOLE ALL MY QUILLS!!” She shrieked and aimed her wand at the cat. Harry was just lifting himself out of his chair to rescue the poor thing, in thanks for saving, if not his life, than definitely his reputation, when a crack and flash of light filled the room, and Dumbledore was standing between Rita Skeeter and the cat. With that distraction, the cat practically flew between Dumbledore’s legs, onto the crate, where it promptly shredded the parchment of the “interview”. And then ate it.
Harry was delighted. This was probably the best thing that had happened to him all month. Rita Skeeter wailed and Dumbledore asked the room at large if he had interrupted something.
It was glorious when Dumbledore announced that the wand weighing was going to start shortly, and that Harry’s presence was needed promptly. There was a twinkle in his eye when he informed Rita that she would have to just use what she had gotten, seeing as there wouldn’t be time for any more interviews.
Harry turned his attention back to the cat, but to his surprise, it was gone.
_______________________________________________________________________
Now back in the boy’s dormitory, Harry set down his godfather’s letter. He was elated at the thought of seeing Sirius face-to-face, enough that the sting of Ron’s ire towards him was soothed. He flopped down on his bed next to the letter and stared towards the ceiling. He supposed that the day could have gone worse. Hermione was still supportive, he was going to be able to talk to Sirius and the fraud of an interview he’d had with Rita Skeeter had been thwarted by a very heroic cat.
He was drawn out of his thoughts as a weight landed next to him on his bed. Harry turned his head, and his jaw dropped because sitting next to him on the bed was the same cat from before. Its eyes glinted in the candlelight, and Harry wondered how it had gotten into the dormitory.
Harry’s shock grew, because the cat opened its mouth, and spoke.
“Hello. I came to check in on you, see that you were doing alright. That woman from before was a real piece of work.”
“You - You can talk!” Harry exclaimed, eyes wide. The cat seemed a bit amused by his shock.
“Indeed I can. In several different languages too. Just to make sure, is my English alright? It's been a long time since I’ve had to use it this much.” The cat’s voice sounded male. It was smoother than Harry would have imagined a cat’s voice to be, but still somehow seemed right. It also had a slight accent to it, just enough to be noticeable, but his English was perfect.
“I-it’s fine,” Harry said faintly. The cat’s tail swished against Harry’s blanket.
“Do you need a moment?” The cat asked, tilting his head to the side
“I-I..” Harry tried.
“Hmm... I didn’t think me talking would be this shocking, you wizards have moving staircases and whatever’s going on with those paintings.”
Harry managed to gather himself, taking a deep breath.
“I was raised by Muggles, so magic stuff can still be a surprise to me. I didn’t know there were wizarding cats that could talk.”
“Oh, there’s not. None that are like me anyway. I’ve only ever met one other talking cat, and he and I were definitely different.”
Harry wasn’t quite sure how to respond to that. Maybe he would have to ask Hagrid if he knew anything about talking cats. While staring at the cat, Harry suddenly remembered something.
“Oh! I meant to thank you, for what you did in the broom closet. I-I think that things would have gone way worse if you hadn’t been there.”
Harry didn’t know cats could smile, but that was definitely the face that he was making.
“You’re welcome. I can’t stand people like her. Scum-sucking bottom feeders...” The cat’s ears suddenly sat up straight. “Oh, I’m sorry, I forgot to introduce myself.” He tucked himself into the best bow that a cat could do. “You can call me Joker. Pleasure to make your acquaintance.”
“Er,” Harry said, “Harry Potter. Likewise.” He instinctively held his hand out to shake, and Joker obliged.
“I actually came to see you for another reason. I’d like to make a deal.”
“A deal?”
Joker nodded. “See, I’ve been hanging around your school most of the year, and I got the gist of what’s happened to you. Someone went through a lot of effort to get you into that tournament. If you agree, I can look into finding out who it was for you.”
“Huh?” Harry said, surprised.
“If I’m the one looking, you can focus on preparing on not getting killed in the tasks I’ve heard are immensely dangerous. And since I’m a cat, I can get around the castle easily, without people noticing me, and if someone did spot me, they’d just assume I’m someone’s pet.”
“That... does make sense. But since it’s a deal, what would you get out of it?” Arthur Weasly’s voice came back to him, the warning about not trusting things that can think for themselves.
“I promise it’s nothing too crazy,” Joker waved one of his paws dismissively. “See, there’s some information I need to get. I tried the library, but the librarian has a very potent spell on it that doesn’t let cats in. I just need you to either find a way to get me into the library, or you to bring the books to me.”
Harry stared at Joker for a moment. That just seemed way too easy. Joker would be doing so much more work, keeping tabs on people while not getting caught, and all Harry had to do was bring books from the library, or ask Hermione to help him find a loophole in the library barrier spell?
“Er, do I have to decide right now?” Harry asked, with a little bit of panic in his voice. This deal seemed really good, but he wasn’t sure if it was too good.
“Of course You don’t have to decide right away. Things like this deserve thought, and input from others. Go ahead and talk to your friends about it, just make sure they know not to blow my cover,” Joker replied, and Harry sighed in relief.
“I’ll come back in two days, is that enough for you?” The cat asked.
“Yes, I think so. Will you give me more time if it’s not?”
“I suppose so. While I don’t want to force you into anything, you do understand that it would be a bit rude if you do it more than once or twice?”
“Yes, I do, but there are some people that I would need to contact by owl, and the letter may not get back in time.”
“Ah. That makes sense.” Joker stood up and stretched. He then hopped off of Harry’s bed and began walking to the door. “I’ll be back in two days. I’ll be sitting over the fireplace in your common room. Best of luck to you til then.”
“Wait!” Harry said, taking a step towards the cat. “Why are you offering this at all? What information in the library is so important to you?”
Joker turned and looked at him, consideringly, then sighed. “Look kid. I’d probably be doing this even if I wouldn’t get anything out of it. I know what it’s like to have everyone’s eyes on you, waiting for you to mess up, and on top of that, someone clearly has it out for you. You need all the help you can get.” He turned his body towards Harry. “I will tell you what I’m looking for, though. As a gesture of good will. I need to find out as much as I can about something called the Holy Grail.”
The cat then turned and left, very impressively opening and shutting the door on his own. Harry gazed after him, then gathered together some writing supplies. He needed to get a letter to Sirius. Hopefully his godfather would know what to do.