Curiosity Killed the Cat

Curiosity Killed the Cat

People always say that cats are far more intelligent than humans. Okay, so I made that up, but hey, I'm half-kneazle (and proud of it)--I'm biased. But really, humans think that they are so much smarter than us, but really they are wrong. Because not only are cats (especially half-kneazles) smarter than them, we are also more mischievous, sly, or what some people would call "evil." Specifically, one of my witch's best friends, the one with unruly red hair that makes my fiery orange fur look even more handsome.

But back to the subject, I feel a need to show these humans (I say that word with utter loathing, other than for my witch of course) just how "evil" I can be. You know, I've always wondered if the red-head's hair would burst into flame if he got angry enough. An interesting theory that I would have to test someday, but note to self: keep your dashing tail out of burning range.

So, here I am, crouching at the top of the stairs of the Gryffindor Common Room, where my witch and the red-head and of course the Boy-Who-Lived. You know, if he gets to be called that then I should get a proper name too. How about the "Darling-Handsome-Dazzling-Cat-Commander-of-the-World"?

Off topic again, now back to moi, crouching at the top of the stairs, watching--no, observing, yes let's make it scientific shall we?--my witch. She was curled up on my sofa, yes MY sofa, a book in her lap and a steaming mug of cocoa in her hand.

Fondly watching her, I was astounded as a tear slid down her cheek. Bounding down the stairs at a pace that I am certainly proud of, I took up my esteemed duty as Comforting Ball of Fur in Chief.

Okay, so maybe I didn't need to throw in the sitting on top of her book bit, or the attempted gnawing of her ear, but trust me, as a senior Fat, Fluffy, and Warm Comforter, that the purring helps. I can tell.

"Oh Crookshanks," she croons over my affectionate rumbling (see, told you she goes for the purring), "what would I ever do without you?"

A low growl and a grin to rival that of the Cheshire Cat's succeeds in sending my message across.

"I know I can tell you everything, Crooks," I grin even wider at the sound of my coveted nickname. Little does she know how truly representative it is of me. But she continues, interrupting a mental flashback into my old-time glory days of thieving.

" I'd tell you everything, but what if he overheard?" Hearing the sudden panic in my witch's voice, I snuggle closer, burying my nose in her bushy brown hair and turning the purring up another notch. Okay, maybe a couple notches. Sometimes I just can't help myself.

Usually, I would wonder which "he" she's talking about, but this time I know exactly who it is. Lately she hasn't spent much time with him; instead she sits in the library (I watch sneakily through the window. That awful woman who is in charge threw a book at me once, and I have to admit that I'm not as fit as I used to be.).

Yes, I know what you're thinking: "She spends most of her time in the library anyways, the know-it-all!" But now she's there even more.

Heck, I'm starting to get annoyed with that place! Do you know how many hours I have gone today without getting snuggled by my lovely witch? I'll tell you! Five hours straight! I'm going to need some serious therapy by the time she stops this unnatural behavior.

Back to the point. My witch is full out crying now and I am in complete Fuzzy Companion mode. Off with the tape recorder now, I need all paws on deck!

___*___

*

There is nothing like something shiny to make my day. It's even better if this object is of value to someone--you could say that it ups the sense of achievement. So the moment the sun's rays shone through the window onto my glistening fur, I jumped off of my witch's bed and landed majestically on all four paws and sauntered over to the boy's dormitories.

Then I wandered into the room that echoed in that red-hair's disconcerting snores. Oooooh! A shiny object had caught my eye. It was just a bit too high. I stretch as far as my paw can reach and make a preliminary swipe. The shiny thing moves closer to the edge of the bedside table.

As soon as I get the mysterious shiny thing down, I run an inspection. Two thin metal wires that are super shiny and two round clear things connecting them. What a prize! It must be my lucky day.

Anyways, flushed from the effort and my excellent luck, I batted the shiny thing down the stairs and then up the opposite staircase to my witch's room. Grabbing it between my teeth, I jumped onto her bed and deposited my prize on her sleeping face.

Surveying my handiwork for a moment, I sat down to wait--for what, you will soon see.

___*___

*

When he stumbled in through the door, I almost giggled. Imagine me, a cat--and a male one at that--giggling. It would have been hysterical.

Anyways, the black-haired boy stumbled into my witch's room, his eyes half closed and hands holding his side.

"Aughhh. Hermione... oh my side... my glasses... where are they?"

Ha! He must have run into a few walls on the way here. Somehow that makes it even more satisfying. Obviously the bloke was half asleep, and mixing that with being half blind could make this situation interesting.

He headed for my witch's bed and instead of calling out her name, he tried to shake her shoulder. Only, he missed. He missed big-time. He ran his hand over her slightly parted lips.

Sensing that the situation was getting out of control, I jumped on top of my witch and hissed ferociously. Add that with bared teeth and fur on end (If I had to play adult here, then I was by god going to do a good job of it.) gave him enough sense to back off just in time for my witch to wake up.

Lifting her head up from the pillow and sleepily pushing her bushy, brown hair from her eyes, she suddenly realized who was standing next to her bed.

"H-Harry!" Blinking with surprise and rubbing her eyes in astonishment, she stared at him. C'mon darling, you've known him for years and years. Can't you see that something's different?

She still didn't move or speak. I nudged the shiny thing on her bed sheets with my nose and suddenly she noticed.

"Oh! Your glasses, Harry. Crookshanks must have taken them. I'm so, so sorry." But Harry just stood there. Trying to make some kind of mental contact with that bloke, I stared at him as hard as I could. He must be a real dumb one; he just stood there, eyes tightly closed and arms at his side.

I couldn't just stand there. I had to do something. Maybe it was a catty instinct. Anyways, I stood up on my hind legs and nipped--okay, maybe it was a bit harder than that--the foolish boy on the nose.

Him jumping a foot in the air would not be an exaggeration. Pleased with my work, I sat down on the end of the bed and watched the events unfold.

The boy jumped up and down screaming, "Hermione, your cat BIT me! Ow!"

My witch grabbed his arm and calmed him down enough for her to examine the bite (my bite... mwahaha) and scold me, "Crookshanks, you are in BIG trouble!" (like that'll do any good). There faces were close--too close--but somehow I knew (maybe I'm psychic!) that this was not a moment to interrupt.

She ran her hand gently over his nose and tilted her head to the side to see if I had drawn blood. Unfortunately I hadn't.

"It looks alright to me, Harry." The boy just stood there staring at her. My witch looked at him quizzically. "Harry? Are you alri--?"

Her words were cut off as the boy fastened his lips onto hers and wrapped his arms around her waist. My witch stood stock still for a few seconds before sliding her arms cautiously around his neck.

That was my cue to turn my head around in disgust and hop off the bed to exit. What, you actually want to WATCH this?

A/N: About Harry getting into Hermione's dormitory, the rule is non-existent in this one-shot. Reviews (good and bad) always help!