"What about poor Scabbers, eh?" He pointed at his chest, where a large lump indicated that Scabbers was curled up in his pocket. "It's all right, Crookshanks," Hermione cooed through the wickerwork. A small wickerwork basket stood beside the heap of trunks, spitting loudly. Harry had no chance to speak to Ron or Hermione in the chaos of leaving they were too busy heaving all their trunks down the Leaky Cauldron's narrow staircase and piling them up near the door, with Hedwig and Hermes, Percy's screech owl, perched on top in their cages. "Later," Harry muttered as Percy stormed in. "What were you saying?" Ron asked Harry as they sat down. Weasley was telling Hermione and Ginny about a love potion she'd made as a young girl. Weasley was reading the front page of the Daily Prophet with a furrowed brow and Mrs. " "I've got something to tell you," Harry began, but they were interrupted by Fred and George, who had looked in to congratulate Ron on infuriating Percy again. She's hidden her face under the frame because her nose has gone all blotchy. You know," Ron grimaced, "his girlfriend. Now he's accusing me of dripping tea on his photo of Penelope Clearwater. "At least I can get away from Percy at Hogwarts. "The sooner we get on the train, the better," he said. Harry got dressed and was just persuading a disgruntled Hedwig to get back into her cage when Ron banged his way into the room, pulling a sweatshirt over his head and looking irritable. Tom woke Harry the next morning with his usual toothless grin and a cup of tea.
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