The only bright spot of that first night had been the warm cushion on her bed. Ginger-furred, bow-legged and fat. Purring against the chill of the room. Crookshanks had returned. She hadn’t been able to find him after the battle, and Ginny had said that he’d disappeared from the Burrow around Christmastime. Sworn that she’d seen him tripping Death Eaters in the halls during the battle.