Chapter 10

Planning

Now that he had Crookshanks on his side, Sirius didn't know what to do with himself. Drawing up plans was useless if he didn't know what he was planning for. His only task was to simply wait until Crookshanks made his trips over to the Willow to update him, and even then, the cat hadn't managed to find out much. 

It was exasperating since Sirius could practically feel that they were missing something huge, some really useful information that could entirely change the way they were going right now, and lead to them formulating a great plan that would fix everything. 

But for now, all Sirius could do was wait. He still went on walks, got food for himself, and sometimes Crookshanks, though he got plenty of food already. Sometimes Crookshanks would sneak him something nice from the castle. the best yet was a couple of licorice wands that some older students had left on a table. Idiots. No matter, Sirius adored licorice wands and his thinking of Crookshanks had improved dramatically. 

It was a fairly normal day for Sirius when it happened. He was on the porch of the shack, chowing down on some meat while laying in the sun when Crookshanks came dashing towards him. 

SNUFFLES! He was yowling.

Sirius, as Snuffles, jolted upright. What!

I-its the rat. The one you were telling me about. He belongs to a friend of my owner's. 

Are you sure?!

It's missing a toe, and it doesn't seem like a normal rat.

That's Peter.

What are we gonna do?

Crookshanks... you wouldn't mind, you know, eating him?

What good would that do?

What do you mean?

Crookshanks stared at him imploringly. If I eat him, what are you going to use to clear your name?

Oh...

Yeah. 

Then... could you bring him to me?

Much better. Yes, I can, or at least I'll try. 

Thank you.

Don't mention it. 

That had been 2 days ago. Crookshanks hadn't made his report yet, but Sirius couldn't entirely blame him. Peter must have been quite good at evading trouble, and apparently cats, for having pulled off being a rat for 12 years. In Sirius' mind though, he'd been a rat as far back as 5th year, when it really started to show that he was on the road to betraying them. Unfortunately, no one else shared his opinion, which was unfortunate, since if they had, none of this would have happened. 

He was going on walks very often now. Once, at the edge of the forest, he'd seen a man wearing ragged robes and had thought nothing of it. Must have been some person trying to get a job. But he'd been skulking behind a bush once when he'd seen the man again. And he'd been able to catch a glimpse of his face this time too. It was scarred, with one big slash along his nose. 

He'd come to the realization almost instantly, and it had taken all his control to not pounce on the man and lick his face. It was Remus. Remus Lupin, his love, his world, his everything. No wonder the robes' condition looked sort of familiar, like something he'd seen before, and of course, his Moony's face, scarred as it was, was as perfect as always, though with a few lines, but Sirius came to think of them as boosting his Moony's character. 

After the sighting of Remus, Sirius had so much pent-up energy that he'd often just end up chasing his tail or tearing around the grounds in hope of releasing some of that energy. He'd see Remus often on these attempts, and immediately crouched behind a rock or tree, or ran towards the forest, trying not to be seen, worried that Remus would spot him. He didn't want to get him involved in any of this until he was free.

Crookshanks still hadn't come back days after. Sirius was left to ponder what that cat was doing. He got bored, which led to him thinking about everything that had happened 12 years ago, which made him depressed, which finally led to him nicking a couple of bottles of firewhiskey from the Hog's Head using a Dissilusionment Charm, and so it was that when Crookshanks finally came to make his report, Sirius was sprawled on the couch on the lower floor, passed out drunk.

Crookshanks took a sniff of the air and recoiled, gave a sound that almost sounded like a sigh, and then curled up on the floor next to the couch, where he waited out the time until Sirius woke up. 

Sirius was up a few hours later, with the worst hangover he'd had in a while. A look over the side of the couch showed why. A ridiculous amount of bottles were stacked up by the side of the couch, along with a large ball of orange fur.

Crookshanks. Sirius gave the cat a prod to wake him up, then transformed. Crookshanks, leaped up, looking around, startled. 

Sirius gave a bark that sounded so much like a laugh that Crookshanks stared at him in bewilderment too. A look of understanding dawned over the cat's face. That wasn't funny!

Sirius, as Snuffles, was laying on the floor in mirth, as Crookshanks stared at him, disgruntled. Sirius recovered after a while, though still in an incredibly good mood, which immediately dissipated after Crookshanks told him grimly, I've got my report.

And?

I've got nothing.

What do you mean nothing?!

The rat is quite unusual, it certainly isn't normal, but you told me that it could put the boy in danger. 

Is Harry okay?

Ah yes, Harry. I kept thinking it was Harold. Yes, he is. The rat hasn't made any attempts on him. 

Of course, he hasn't! Sirius exploded. He's a rat! If he does anything suspicious, mainly hiding... or faking his own death, you let me know okay!

Will do. Crookshanks replied, licking a paw nonchalantly. The cat looked up at the sky. It's breakfast, I'll be leaving. 

Sirius stared after him, appalled by the abrupt exit. Crookshanks took his bewilderment differently. He looked back. Yes Snuffles, I'll try to bring you some bacon. And with that, and a swish of his bottlebrush tail, he ran off towards the castle. 

Sirius transformed, and continued to stare after him through the window. Though the window itself was so caked with grime that by the time Crookshanks had crossed the boundaries of the Shack, he was no longer visible. While Sirius was angry with Crookshanks' lack of information during this latest report, which he'd waited the longest for, he had to admit that bacon sounded pretty good right about now. 

But as he waited for his breakfast, he couldn't help but ponder the information that Crookshanks had given him, however little and obvious it was. What was Peter playing at? It was impossible to tell. Peter was evil, that was clear already, but how could you predict what a person who'd sink as low as Peter had would do next?

In the meantime, it would do no good to get frustrated over the matter. He had to keep gathering information, intelligence, and whatever else such information as such was referred to until could begin fabricating a plan.