All we have per descriptions of this cat is that 1. It was enough of a Potter to make the list when they went into hiding and 2. Harry scared it with his new broom he got from Sirius.
There is further no mention of said cat.
On the other hand, don’t we know another, really old, beaten down, ugly, sad, sad cat?
A cat that befriended Sirius Black and seemed to KNOW Peter Pettigrew’s smell, hold a grudge against him, even?
Part-kneazle, so it has a remarkable ability for finding home or things that it has a connection to, like, say, a family member.
A cat that knows it’s way around Hogwarts, around the Whomping Willow, almost like it had been there before with another owner.
A cat that absolutely REFUSED to let Hermione leave that shop without him after seeing a certain rat, was CRAZED, almost.
We have no mention of this cat/kneazle’s age, except that it had been in the shop for a while and no one had wanted it. Magical creatures live a long time. Cats live a long time. It’s within reason that this cat could be 30, even 40 years old.
Instead of shrugging it off, the Wizarding World freaks tf out when they hear that an eleven-year-old burned a man to death using his bare hands.
Harry is dragged to a Hearing at the Ministry before he’s even a teenager. It’s there that he meets Arthur Weasley, who recognizes him from Ron’s letters, and invites him to stay at the Burrow during the evenings. (The Hearing takes quite some time.) Ron and his siblings try to cheer him up. Hermione writes every day, talking about new legal measures that she’s read about. Mrs. Weasley dotes over Harry, assuring him that everything’s going to be fine. She never expected the Wizengamot to convict a twelve-year-old.
But they do.
Several days before he’s set to return to Hogwarts, Harry James Potter is convicted of the murder of Quirinus Quirrell.
Instead of stepping onto the Hogwarts Express, Harry is ushered into a boat that takes him across a choppy ocean. He feels the happiness slip away from him, replaced by the repeated mental images of the worst memories of his life.
The first night is terrible. Harry sits with his back against the wall of the damp cell, watching these strange cloaked creatures sweep down the corridor, sucking away any joy. He can hear the screams of the other prisoners, the pleas for their sanity, for their freedom.
It’s a quarter past midnight before Harry finally snaps, running to the bars, and shaking them.
“Let me out,” he cries, “Please; let me out!”
The other prisoners scream alongside him, though they’re only interested in their own release.
In fact, only one prisoner seems to pay him any mind.
The man in the cell across the corridor slowly stands up, his shaggy hair covering his face. He staggers over to his own bars, his whisper wafting across the corridor:
Ugh, this gives me so many Marauders feels. Cause, first of all, Remus is immediately comfortable with teasing Harry like he would have teased James (well, he would have been much ruder to James, let’s be real, but this is only his first conversation with Harry). And second, because what do you want to bet Remus spends lots of time asking McGonagall and the other professors about Harry so he can know as much about James’s son as possible?
Actually, let’s be real. What do you want to bet he just straight up handed out this form for the rest of the professors to fill out on his first day?