Ron had been trying to get Scabbers to settle down for hours, but the rat wasn't having it. No matter how gently Ron held him or how much he muttered threats about treats being revoked, Scabbers squirmed and twisted. And then—just like that—he slipped free.

“Scabbers!” Ron yelled as the rat shot out of his hands and bolted into the hallway. Ron groaned loudly before taking off after him, nearly tripping over his own robes in the process.

They tore down the corridor, Scabbers zigzagging with impressive speed for something so small. Ron dodged around clusters of students and narrowly avoided crashing into a professor.

By the time he burst into the courtyard, he was bent over, hands on his knees, gasping for breath. He straightened slowly, scanning the open space in a panic—until he spotted Scabbers near a stone bench. But instead of running or hiding, the rat was… rolling around.

Ron frowned, stepping closer. Scabbers was batting excitedly at another creature—a (pet)—rolling onto his back and squeaking in what looked like delight. The (pet) seemed just as enthusiastic, pouncing and scampering around Scabbers with playful energy, the two of them in their own little world.

Ron blinked, stunned, as he approached. Of all the outcomes he’d expected, this hadn’t been one of them.

Then the (pet)’s owner appeared from around the corner, someone about Ron’s age. “I think they like each other,” they said lightly, eyes flicking between the two animals tangled together on the grass.

Ron stared for a moment longer before a laugh bubbled out of him, the tension finally melting away. “You think?”