Night.
Jerry had firmly turned down every girl's Valentine's Day invitation at the feast and returned to his Slytherin Dormitory. Lying on his soft, comfortable bed, he let his thoughts churn, turning over what Catherine had mentioned that afternoon.
The good news was that the Apostles Organization wasn't an unbroken monolith from top to bottom, without a single weakness, as he and everyone else had imagined.
The Apostles' higher-ups had their disagreements and conflicts, too.
The bad news was that those disagreements and conflicts revolved around him!
In truth, whether it was the Third Bishop mentioned that day, the Fawley family, or even Catherine Fawley herself, Jerry didn't trust any of them very much. What could he say? He was suspicious by nature!
There was no helping it. Fate had played a slippery trick on them. Who had told the Apostles to choose him, anyway?
Jerry was a Slytherin snake, too, and an intensely controlling one at that. His ambition would never allow him to settle for being a spineless master, a puppet others could manipulate and control at will!
Jerry lay on his bed, stared at the ceiling, and sighed.
I've got it so rough. I've been under so much pressure lately!
The business with Voldemort and the basilisk still isn't settled, and now someone named Flory has turned up. Trouble just never stops!
Early the next morning, the moment Jerry entered the Great Hall, he saw Ron at the long table, excitedly feeding his pet rat, Scabbers, while talking to Neville.
"Could you take your rat off the dining table? He's filthy!" Hermione looked disgustedly at the rat feasting on the table, then shifted closer to Jerry.
"Scabbers isn't filthy! Poor Scabbers must have been starving these past few days!"
"When did your pet rat come back?"