For the Love of Crookshanks

Thanks again to Meucci Warlock for betaing this, and for kindly putting up with my maniacal laughter.

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Chapter 3

The best book of the millennium! Never has any book of any kind meant so much to me and provided me with such valuable information. Insightful, sensitive and revolutionary!

--Philomena Felinius, Secretary, Nifty Kneazle Society of Great Britain

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The single most important thing to do in your Kneazle's first year is to take him to your Magizoologist and have your little treasure spayed or neutered. The breeding of Kneazles is a delicate business and far too often our noble Kneazles have interbred with stray cats. You may find using popular potions a more humane method of keeping your Kneazle from other cats, but let me assure you that this is not a permanent fix and could indeed lead to unpleasant side effects. In the interest of preserving the pure breed of Kneazle, it is of utmost importance to get your Kneazle "fixed," unless of course, you are one of the two witches certified to breed Kneazles with the Nifty Kneazle Society of Great Britain. If you are not Philomena Felinius, or Lucrecia Leonis, you must get your Kneazle spayed or neutered. Failure to do so will automatically bar you from the Nifty Kneazle Society and their internationally celebrated Christmas Fete. Further information on the Nifty Kneazle Society and its branches throughout the world can be found in Appendix Z4. (excerpt from For the Love of Kneazles by Beneficent Bast, pg 912)

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By virtue of her sex, Hermione felt that she should be better equipped to deal with the present situation. Was there not some sort of odd connection between all mammalian females? Some kind of uterine-based secret knowledge that magically manifested itself in times like this? Luna didn't seem to have any more knowledge on the current subject than Hermione, but while Luna was unperturbed by her lack of knowledge, Hermione silently berated herself for not getting a proper book on the subject.

Among the four spectators to the birth, Crookshanks and Luna were the calmest. Neville looked a bit green and occasionally mumbled incoherently. Hermione shifted uncomfortably and looked away at times, thoroughly disappointed in her inability to offer advice or assistance in any way. Luna calmly pointed out interesting or unexpected bits and wondered aloud exactly what would happen next or the purpose of the more unpleasant aspects. Neville would then get even greener. Crookshanks watched with what could most accurately be called detached interest. Because of his interest, he had become an item of interest to the other three.

"Of course he understands. Look at the way he's watching Freya. He knows that she's going to have his kittens," Luna stated, with calm confidence.

"It could be Luna," Neville piped up enthusiastically, apparently grateful for a distraction from the main event. "But I think it's unlikely. He's probably just here because everyone else in the house is here or maybe he's just curious. It's cats who are supposed to be curious, right?"

Hermione laughed at his confused expression, reminiscent of his younger days. "Yes, Neville."

"I think he's obviously here to support Freya," Luna said. "They are an item after all."

"They're not an item Luna. The only time they hang out together is when she's in heat," Neville said.

"Yes, but they live here together. They're friends at the very least.

"Just because they don't try to kill each other doesn't mean they're friends. You've seen the way they fight with each other sometimes," Neville said, admirably trying to maintain his argument in an effort to divert his own attention away from the birth. Neville found the whole thing to be rather disconcerting and felt he really oughtn't be there.

"Yes, but it's just play-fighting. They never actually hurt each other. It's probably the way cats flirt with each other, you know, like thirteen-year-olds," Luna answered. Luna had the uncanny ability few possessed to turn any rational argument on its head and sound nominally reasonable.

"They're just cats, Luna," Neville said.

"Of course they're not just cats. Crookshanks seems to be at least part-Kneazle and I know for a fact that Freya is one of the last descendants of the Grimalkins," Luna stated serenely

"The what?" Neville asked, looking to Hermione. Hermione just shook her head as if to say that Neville would have done better not to ask.

"Why the Grimalkins of course. They are an ancient species of cat that possess magical powers. They are very fond of their privacy, so sightings are extremely rare. You notice of course, the way that Freya prefers to be on her own and she has the tell-tale dark grey fur. I say - look at this. I think the first one's coming out."

Neville pointedly looked away from the scene and loudly said, "Well what do you think, Hermione?"

"Maybe," Hermione said absently, not quite sure what Neville was asking. Try as she might, she couldn't look away from the scene in front of her. She had never seen anything actually being born before and while Freya dealt with it all very calmly, Hermione's eyes were wide with a disgusted sort of fascination. Freya wasn't yowling in pain, although from Hermione's perspective, it appeared she ought to be.

"Oh look," Luna said, in that breathless way people acknowledge moments of beauty and truth, transcendence and unity.

"Oh God," Neville said, slightly gagging on his words. Apparently feeling that this wasn't the place for any male to be present, Neville grabbed Crookshanks, held the animal in front of him like a shield and began walking out of the kitchen backwards.

"You know guys, I'm just gonna go, okay? But if you need me, just call me. But only if you really really need help, because you know I've already told you all I know about this . . . this whole thing," Neville babbled, his voice becoming increasingly high-pitched. "Because you know, I'd help you guys out with anything. You know that right? I would do anything for you guys." Hermione and Luna nodded at the truth of it. "Well I'll just be in the greenhouse, in case you might need me."

As soon as he left the confines of the kitchen, Neville turned his back on them and practically ran out of the room, with Crookshanks still in his arms.

"Bye Neville. Don't forget to log your progress on the Fanged Geranium," Luna called after him, completely undisturbed by Neville's defection to the greenhouse.

"I think this makes him uncomfortable," Luna said to Hermione in her innocent matter-of-fact tone, which made it impossible to answer with anything but sincerity.

"I think you're right," Hermione said, despondently. While Luna was perfectly content to see Neville go, as he probably would have been more of a hindrance than anything, Hermione mourned his absence. In this situation, it seemed better to have more people with no idea what to do rather than less. If anything, it lessened her culpability.

Hermione and Luna turned back to the labouring animal. It was apparent that the first kitten would be with them quite soon.

"What does the book say we're supposed to do?" Luna asked.

Hermione turned her head away from Freya, but her eyes continued to watch the animal. It was all horrifyingly hypnotizing. Hermione never would have thought it would be so difficult to look away from something inherently unpleasant. At length, Hermione tore her eyes away from the animal and for the hundredth time that evening, thumbed through the pathetic little pamphlet that the Magizoologist had given them, hoping to glean some scrap of heretofore missed information. The pamphlet encouraged pet owners not to resort to magic to aid in the delivery as this generally led to less-than-pleasant results. The publishers of the pamphlet were kind enough to include illustrations of what generally happened when magic was used in delivery. The three poorly executed drawings could very well provide nightmare material for the rest of one's natural life.

The pamphlet mostly discussed the importance of having extra blankets, some warm water and disinfectant available, but declined to share just what exactly should be done with these items. The most helpful phrase was that the pet owner should be prepared to "help the mother along in any way necessary," but neglected to outline what that involved. The majority of the pamphlet was dedicated to toilet-training new kittens, which Hermione conceded was very important, but not at this juncture.

"Nothing," Hermione cursed, and tossed the thing aside. She now found that once she had looked away from Freya, she was incapable of returning her gaze to witness the miracle of birth. The squelching sounds were quite enough to quell her curiosity.

"Oh well, Freya seems to be doing just fine on her own." Luna moved around Freya's box to get a better view of the proceedings. As Freya gave a low little howl, Hermione became even more determined not to watch. Hermione decided that this was a good time to commence her inspection of the ceiling. After all, she had lived here for five years and had never properly looked at her own kitchen ceiling. She was in no way inspecting the ceiling at the particular moment because the most disgusting thing in the world was happening mere centimetres from where she sat, she was inspecting it because it needed to be done. Scanning the ceiling, Hermione noted that Harry had not done a very good job of the painting spells he had sworn he could do with his hands tied behind his back. She would have to Floo him and suggest that he might need to brush up on his handiwork.

It was several long minutes before the two women continued their conversation.

"Is it supposed to look like that?" Luna asked.

"Er-" Hermione noted that there were also some cracks in the ceiling that merited her attention. She would have to talk to Harry about the importance of taking pride in one's workmanship.

"Hermione. Look," Luna said in her most demanding voice. Hermione had little choice but to follow the note of direction in Luna's voice. It was something rarely heard.

"Oh. It looks-" Hermione waved her hand around in search of the perfect word.

"Slimy."

"Yes. . .yes, slimy." Once again, Hermione found herself unequal to the task of looking away.

"It kind of looks like a drowned rat, doesn't it?"

Hermione frowned in thought. "I guess it kind of does."

"It isn't very cute, is it?" Luna asked.

"Not especially, no."

Freya cleaned the newborn mewling kitten and eventually moved it to the corner of the box. It was nearly an hour before Freya would give birth to the next kitten. In that time, Crookshanks had trotted back to the kitchen and crouched next to the Birthing Box. Freya ignored his presence and Crookshanks ignored hers. Rather, he watched the new born kitten slither around its little corner of the box.

By the time the third and final kitten had arrived, the whole process seemed much less disgusting to Hermione. Luna was as fascinated with the third birth as she had been with the first. The first kitten looked like Freya with its sleek grey fur. The second was a little version of Crookshanks with wiry orange fur and a smashed cat face. The third was a strange combination of the two, with patches of grey and orange fur. Luna and Hermione decided that while the third one was the ugliest of the three, he was their favourite.

By some strange agreement, Crookshanks and Freya took turns cleaning each of the kittens. Neville eventually returned to the kitchen after Luna and Hermione had assured him that the worst was over.

"Luna, are you sure we need to ask all these questions of possible owners?" Neville asked, looking over the long list Luna had compiled when she discovered Freya would be having kittens.

"Of course, Neville. We want to make sure that the kittens go to good and loving homes don't we?"

"Well yes," Neville said, his brow furrowing, "but do we really need to know their astrological signs and their favourite flavour of ice cream?"

"Of course not, but only those who really want the kittens will answer those questions. Anyone who doesn't really want them will laugh or deride the questions," Luna said, reaching in the box to scratch Freya on the head. "These kittens have to go to homes where people are willing to undergo a little interrogation."

Neville looked to Hermione for verification of such a tactic. Hermione gave him a little shrug. Luna could be surprisingly perceptive about people sometimes. People often found themselves frustrated and unnerved in Luna's presence, consequently revealing the very best or worst of their personalities. Hermione had discovered much about people in observing the way they reacted to Luna. Luna could also be surprisingly dotty at times as well, and her questions might just be the product of an over-active mind.

"Well, maybe we don't have to get rid of them," Neville said. "Maybe when you and I move out, we can take some, so that Hermione would only have Crookshanks and maybe another kitten."

"We have several weeks to decide what to do with them. They'll have to stay with Freya a couple of months at least." Hermione said, hoping to cut off Neville's line of thought. She rather hoped that Neville and Luna wouldn't feel the need to move out anytime soon, although if the looks Neville was giving Luna were any indication, they wouldn't be staying with her much longer. Hermione rather enjoyed having other people stay with her. After living alone for a time, she had found she missed the activity provided by other people.

"I'm going to bed guys," Neville yawned. Freya had had the good sense to have her kittens in the middle of the night, when all self-respecting cats have their kittens. Looking at the clock, Hermione realized that it was four in the morning. Luna extinguished the lights and followed Neville up the stairs to their separate bedrooms.

Peering into the basket, Hermione could see that Freya was asleep with her kittens cuddled against her. Crookshanks still sat next to the basket, licking his paw.

Hermione reached down to pat his head. "You're a good boy, Crookshanks," she said. Crookshanks butted his head against her hand in a sign of affection.