Cat and Mouse

Malfoy listened to Luke and felt as though he were being looked down on—looked down on for the very reason that he was supposedly unworthy of the Malfoy Family's honor.

It was something Malfoy could not tolerate.

"What the... Gaunt?"

The moment Malfoy saw Luke's face clearly, he cried out his name in shock.

Luke watched Malfoy look as though he wanted to lose his temper but could not, and a mocking curve formed at the corner of his lips. "If you'd said it just now, I might have thought a little more highly of you."

Malfoy desperately wanted to get angry, but he knew perfectly well that the person before him was someone his father had repeatedly told him to treat well before school began.

"What gives you the right to say that?!"

He knew that he could not use noble blood to pressure Luke now. After all, Luke Gaunt's bloodline was even more noble than his own. Nor could he mock him with money as he had mocked Ron.

Thanks to the Goblins' publicity, Luke Gaunt's inheritance of an astonishing fortune had remained news for quite some time.

Everyone had been guessing just how much money the Gaunt Family vault contained.

Until one day, both the Goblins and the newspapers suddenly shut their mouths. Ordinary people merely felt that they had lost an amusing topic, but it did not matter. There were always similar things to gossip about in their lives.

But the nobles and those in power at the Ministry of Magic knew there was more to it.

More importantly, Malfoy knew that his father had sent an invitation during the past month, inviting the other party to dine at his home, only to be brushed off with an excuse in the end.

That left Lucius Malfoy unable to grasp Luke's intentions.

So before leaving, he could only warn Draco not to provoke the head of the Gaunt Family. It would be improper.

But Malfoy did not see Luke respond. He only saw Luke shake his head in apparent disappointment. "It seems you still don't understand what a true noble is."

With that, he ignored Malfoy and began chatting with Harry and Ron beside him.

His attitude was gentle, his tone reserved and humorous.

The students who had poked their heads out of their compartments to watch the show saw that there was no more fun to be had and returned to their seats in disappointment. Of course, some did not forget to give Malfoy a mocking or disappointed look before leaving.

As though he had done something contemptible.

Malfoy noticed the expressions and gazes of everyone in the carriage.

It made him feel deeply wronged.

He had clearly only done what he always did. Why was he being mocked and scorned by everyone this time? He was even the victim this time.

Goyle and Crabbe stood beside him with their heads lowered, like two defeated roosters.

Malfoy dearly wanted to go over and lash out at Luke, but his father's warning, along with that Fire-Making Spell that had been controlled so perfectly in the details, made him realize that he could not act rashly. Fighting when he could not win went against everything he had been taught.

So he cast a resentful glance at his lackeys, angrily tossed his head, and returned to his compartment.

Luke watched him leave and shook his head in regret once more.

Harry looked at Luke's reaction and asked in confusion, "Luke, why do you care so much about Malfoy? And you look... really disappointed."

Ron knew a little, but his family had never cared much about such things, so his understanding was limited.

"I'm only disappointed by Draco's lack of magnanimity. I can see his father's shadow in him."

Luke looked disappointed, but there was a trace of mockery in his eyes.

"Gentlemen, if you don't mind, I think we could sit down and talk."

Hermione could still feel people watching them, so she spoke with a hint of helplessness.

"Right! Come on, let's sit down and talk!"

As he spoke, Harry headed toward the compartment he shared with Ron.

Hermione followed close behind, intending to see what it was like inside.

Ron walked behind Hermione, looking thoughtful.

Luke watched the trio's backs and smiled sincerely before taking a step forward.

Suddenly, he remembered that he seemed to have forgotten something.

Where was Book?

He looked down by his feet, but there was no sign of Book.

For a moment, he panicked. He had not come to help Neville find a toad only to lose his own cat, had he? How was he supposed to explain that when he went to see Luna this summer?!

Inside the compartment, Book had pinned the big fat rat beneath him, his sharp, powerful claws pressed against its body. He was ready to take a bite out of it.

He had just smelled food, so he had slipped into the compartment. Then he found a huge pile of snacks, which made his eyes light up. Of course, it was not the snacks that had caught his attention. It was the fat rat sitting atop the pile, its head shoved into a snack bag as it ate wildly, seemingly completely unaware that a clever, adorable, nimble little cat named Book had his eyes on its life.

Though Book found the rat rather strange—at the very least, it was unlike the ones he had seen in the shop before, or the kind Miss Luna brought to the shop for them to play with. Still... if it was a rat, it should be edible, right? Well, he was not short on food now, so after biting it to death, he could give it to Luke and make him happy too!

Just as he was about to bite down, Book heard a pig-slaughtering scream.

"Ahhhhh! Scabbers!"

The smile at the corner of Luke's mouth froze. Well, now he knew where Book had gone...

He could only hurry forward, catch up to Ron, and hide the startled Book in his arms before Ron got there. Then he apologized to Ron.

"Uh, sorry, Ron. This is my cat. Maybe he's a little hungry."

Luke did not explain further. While soothing Ron, he stared at the big rat Ron had picked up and held tightly in his arms, an unusual gleam flickering in his eyes.

He knew that rat was not a rat.

But he needed to think carefully about whether someone like this had enough value for him to exploit. Or rather, now that he had hold of a little secret, what kind of demands should he make?

Luke wore an apologetic expression, but he had already begun calculating in his heart.

Scabbers—or rather, Peter Pettigrew—was being squeezed so tightly by Ron that he was nearly suffocating. Suddenly, in addition to the suffocation, he felt a wave of chilling dread rise within him.