|
||||||||
|
||||||||
Author: Allie Kiwi Story: While The Cat's Away Rating: Everyone Setting: Pre-OotP Status: Completed Reviews: 6 Words: 2,367
~*~*~*~*~ “Has anyone seen Crookshanks?” Hermione clambered through the portrait hole into the Gryffindor common room, a look of panic on her face. “He’s been missing for hours.” Harry looked up from where he was attempting to do his Potions homework. “Maybe he fell asleep somewhere?” “I don’t think so.” Hermione frowned. “I’ve looked in all the usual places.” Ron sniggered. “This is Crookshanks we’re talking about: friend of stray dogs, companion to werewolves. I suggest you try the not-so-usual places.” Hermione bit her lip. “I’ve tried those, too.” Harry realised his friend was very close to crying, and knew she’d be embarrassed if that happened in the common room. “Erm, how about we look at the—” he lowered his voice, “map.” “Do animals show up on there?” asked Ron. Harry thought back to last year when Professor Lupin had told him he’d seen Peter Pettigrew on the map. But he supposed Animagi didn’t really count as ‘animals’. “Mrs Norris!” he exclaimed suddenly, causing Ron to jump slightly. More quietly, so as not to be overheard, Harry continued, “She shows up on the map, so Crookshanks should, shouldn’t he?” “Only one way to find out,” said Ron, getting up from his seat. Getting the map from Harry’s trunk, and whispering, ‘I solemnly swear that I am up to no good’, took only a few minutes. Harry could almost see the steam coming out of Hermione’s ears at Ron's thoughtless statement. “You can stay here, if you like,” said Hermione frostily. “After all, you’ve never liked my cat, despite him helping us to uncover Peter Pettigrew!” Just then Ron arrived, strawberry jam and crumbs visible on his robes from a last-minute piece of toast, and peered into the box as well. For possibly the first and last time in their lifetimes, Ron, Harry and Pansy were in perfect accord: Hermione was nuts. They looked at her as if she’d just announced she was leaving school to set up shop reading tealeaves. “They are not cute, Granger,” ground out Pansy, “they’re an abomination. I’ll have you know that Gertrude is an award-winning Cornish Rex. My family has been breeding them since the 1950s, ever since the first cat of this type was born in our family barn. Gertrude was destined to breed with champions, and produce more champions, and look at what your mongrel has done!” Harry had visions of Pansy and Malfoy displaying their own offspring at Future Death Eater shows, each holding a perfectly ugly kitten in one hand with a perfectly groomed child at their feet, and getting rosettes for Show Champion. “Gertrude is your cat?” asked Ron, stupidly. “Not a person in Slytherin?” He turned to Harry. “No wonder we couldn’t work out who—” Harry elbowed him to shut him up; they didn’t need to make Pansy suspicious as to how they knew the name Gertrude. Hermione was making cooing noises at the kittens as Pansy stood looking on in disgust. “What are you going to do with them?” asked Hermione. “What do you think?” glared Pansy. “The only thing to do is drown them.” “You wouldn’t!” gasped Hermione. “You couldn’t!” “Couldn’t I?” Pansy paused. “But if you’re so concerned, you can have them. Just don’t ever let me see them again, and don’t let your cat near my darling again, or I’ll hex you within an inch of your life - and he won’t have a life left. And you know I can do it!” Leaving the box at Hermione’s feet, Pansy departed. “Oh, I’d rather not see those robes again, either!” she called back over her shoulder. “You know, I read about the Parkinsons of Padstow, Cornwall, in ‘Wizarding Families of Great Britain and Ireland’.” said Hermione, staring after Pansy. “Apparently they used to be dirt poor, but they made their money in ‘shipping’.” She gave the last word an odd emphasis. “They’ve been trying to get respectable ever since, and their cats nearly made them so. Although they’re still a bit of a laughing stock amongst the Pureblood families.” “‘Shipping’?” asked Harry. “What’s so wrong with making your money in shipping?” “It is if you stand with your wand raised above a cliff-top, mate, casting light into the air and pretending to be a lighthouse.” Ron grinned. “Mum told me about that. Said that the Parkinsons had always been in Slytherin - they’ve been doing underhand business in smuggling and such like for centuries.” “They were Wreckers, Harry,” added Hermione. “Well at least we now know what Crookshanks was up to,” said Ron. “He was in love.” Hermione picked up a kitten and began to stroke it. “They’re so tiny - their eyes aren’t even open yet. They should still be with their mother.” “Hagrid will know what to do with them,” Harry said reassuringly. “But you’d better do it quickly. Who knows what Snape will say if you come to class with a box of kittens?” “He may think up a potion that uses them in it - or maybe that’s what is in all those jars of pickled things!” Hermione looked sick at Ron’s comment and, putting her kitten back in the box, she hurriedly placed the lid back on. “I’ll go now - will you tell Professor Snape I’ll—” “Tell Professor Snape what, Miss Granger?” hissed the teacher in question from behind them. “And where, precisely, were you off to when you should be about to come into my Potions classroom?” Hermione opened her mouth ready to launch into an explanation, but Snape forestalled her by grabbing the box. “Don’t bother with any nonsense, Miss Granger,” he snarled. “I know you’ll just be making excuses for whatever prank your friends have hidden in this box.” As he shook the box experimentally, two furry creatures suddenly launched themselves out of nowhere at him – one at his legs, the other at his chest region, landing on top of the box before moving to his shoulder and attacking Snape’s face. “What the—!” he cried, dropping the box to reach for his wand and defend himself, his rapid – but noticeably inaccurate – spell casting interspersed with yelps of pain and unearthly yowls and growls. Hermione dashed to the box of kittens, who were mewling in agitation. “You grab Gertrude, I’ll get Crookshanks!” yelled Harry to Ron as both of them weaved about the hallway, trying to avoid Snape’s hexes. A minute or two of scuffling ensued, where claws and jaws plus wands and fists were used with gay abandon. Panting slightly, Harry clasped a Stunned Crookshanks to his chest with one arm, his other hand wiping a trickle of blood from his cheek. “All right, Ron?” he asked. Ron spat a mouthful of fur onto the stone floor, as he held onto an equally Stunned Gertrude. “Yuk, I hope I don’t get fur balls!” he announced. “I presume you’re intending to clean that up,” drawled Snape from behind them as he rose to his feet. His face and hands were covered in bites and scratches, and his robes had countless rends in them. “I’ll restrain myself from deducting points from Gryffindor, if so.” Harry, Ron and Hermione realised this was the only ‘thanks’ they were likely to get for helping rescue him from the two irate cats. “I also hope that you will take these creatures – all of them – away from me this instant,” their professor continued, “and never let any of them into my sight again! I’ll expect you back in ten minutes. If you’re any longer it will be five points from Gryffindor. Each.” Professor Snape swept down the hallway, obviously off to tidy himself up and put some lotion on his wounds. Ron put down Gertrude’s frozen form and Harry set Crookshanks beside her. With a murmured ‘Ennervate’ the cats returned to normal. Both animals immediately dashed over to where Hermione was reaching into the box to stroke the kittens. Upon finding their babies unharmed, they started to purr. Harry glanced into the box. “You know, you’re barmy if you think those are cute, Hermione.” Crookshanks sank a claw into Harry’s ankle in retaliation, before returning to canoodling with his mate whilst watching their kittens. “Well, I can see where the kittens got their looks from,” muttered Ron, shuddering as Gertrude smooched against Crookshanks, and getting his first real view of what a Cornish Rex looked like. “Blimey, if Mrs Norris doesn’t look like a goddess in comparison to that cat!” He stooped and picked up the box of kittens. “Come on, we’d better get the kittens to Hagrid.” “Looks aren’t everything, Ron!” exclaimed Hermione, and they all made their way along the corridor as other students started to arrive, with Hermione and Ron bickering as they went. The End. ~*~*~*~*~ Author’s Note: I found this story a month or so back, sitting on my hard-drive, long forgotten and not-quite finished. Well, with GoF recently coming to cinemas, it seemed as good a time as any to complete it and finally put it up where people can read it! To see what Gertrude looks like, and to read a little bit about cats like her, please follow this link: Cornish Rex |