Your black cat, Dexter, lept lightly onto your lap. A large, dead spider was dangling from his mouth.

“Does he have to eat that infront of us?” said Ron scowling.

“Clever Dexter, did you catch that all by yourself?” you asked the cat, letting its fluffy black mane.

Dexter slowly chewed up the spider, his yellow eyes fixed insolently on Ron.

“Just keep him over there, that’s all.” Ron said irritably, “I’ve got Scabbers in my bag.”

Harry yawned. He really wanted to go to bed but he still had his own star chart to complete. He pulled his bag towards him, took out parchment, ink and quill, and started work. “you can copy mine, if you like.” said Ron, labelling his last star with a flourish and shoving the chart towards Harry.

Dexter still stared unblinkingly at Ron, flicking the end of his bushy tail. Then, without warning, he pounced.

“OY!” Ron roared, seizing his bad, as Dexter sank four sets of claws deeply into it, and began tearing ferociously. “GET OFF, YOU STUPID ANIMAL!”

Ron tried to pull the bag away from Dexter, but he clung on, spitting and slashing.

“Ron don’t hurt him!” you squealed S Ron whirled his bag around, Dexter still clinging to it? and Scabbers came flying out of the top —

“CATCH THAT CAT!” Ron yelled, as Dexter freed himself from the remains of the bag, sprang over the table, and chased after the terrified Scabbers.

George Weasley tried to grab either Scabbers or Dexter, but missed, much to Fred’s amusement. Scabbers streaked through four pairs of feet and shot beneath an old chest of drawers.

Dexter skidded to a holt, crouched low on his bandy legs and started making furious swipes with his front paw, just missing Scabbers.

“That cat is deadly!” Ron scowled, “no wonder they say someone’s pet portrays their owner.”