To Lend a Helping Paw

Talion

Rating: PG
Genres: Romance, Humor
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 5
Published: 23/10/2003
Last Updated: 18/11/2003
Status: completed

Crookshanks is back, and Harry is really going to need his help as he attempts the most difficult thing he has ever done . . . proposing to Hermione!

Chapters

1. Plots!

2. Roses are Red

3. Bubble, Bubble, Toil & Trouble

4. Riddle Me This

5. Where There

6. Singing the Blues

7. It

8. Epilogue

1. Plots!

Author’s note: I want to thank everyone who reviewed “Have a Nice Trip!”. I’m glad you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. To DanaKM and Perenelle, who requested more, here is your wish, another story from Crookshanks’ point of view. This one is a bit longer and will have several chapters to it, but I hope you like it just as well.

Special thanks to by aunt Becky who does all my Beta reading for me.

Disclaimer: These characters are all J.K. Rowling’s.

Chapter 1

Plots!

I was lying in my favorite spot in front of the fire in the Gryffindor common room when I heard the entrance to the portrait hole open. It was the middle of the day, and as almost everyone either had class or was busy in the library studying, I knew that whoever had entered was probably up to no good. I raised my head and opened one eye to see Harry Potter and Ron Weasley running about checking to see if there was anyone else in Gryffindor Tower. These two were definitely up to no good.

Now don’t get me wrong, I dearly adore my human’s boyfriend. After all, wasn’t it I who got them together in the first place? But the fact remains that Harry Potter has a penchant for mischief, and when accompanied by Ron Weasley, his best friend, those chances multiply. More often than not, their little adventures also end up drawing my human into their midst. Knowing that the old adage “Ignorance is bliss” is indeed a fact; I laid my head back down to renew my snooze.

As I was on the verge of drifting off, I heard them renew their conversation.

“There doesn’t seem to be anyone in the girls’ dormitories,” Ron said. “Of course I really can’t go up there and check, you know.”

I almost laughed at this statement. It was Ron who had tried two years ago to go up the stairs to the girls’ rooms only to have the stairs transform into a slide, which promptly deposited him on his rump back in the common room. It was a most humorous site at the time, and the memory of it brought a smile to my face.

“Uh, Harry,” Ron continued. “Does it look like Crookshanks is smiling to you?”

“Yeah,” Harry replied. “He does that from time to time. It’s kind of creepy!”

The smile slid off my face at that. Creepy indeed! Are half cat-half kneazles not allowed to smile?

“Yeah,” Ron said. “Anybody on the boys’ side?”

“No.”

“Okay, out with it,” there was an edge of excitement in Ron’s voice. “What is it you were wanting to tell me about you and Hermione?”

There is another old adage, one that I highly disagree with, but which seems to have some sort of basis in truth, and that is “Curiosity killed the cat.” At this last question voiced by the red-haired Gryffindor, I promptly abandoned all pretense of sleeping, and instead began paying very close attention to the two young men. They were, after all, talking about my human and I had to make certain that things were going well between her and Harry. I rose from my spot on the floor and casually made my way to the couch where the two young ones were sitting. I rubbed my cheek against Harry’s hand, just to let him know I was there, of course, and not in an attempt to have him start scratching behind my ears. (Really, that’s almost akin to begging!) The fact that he did so only proves that he wanted to.

“You’ve got to promise me you won’t tell anyone,” Harry said excitedly. “Not even Ginny.”

“I swear,” Ron replied.

“Okay,” Harry took a deep breath. “I’m thinking about asking Hermione to marry me!”

“Really? Wicked!”

“Yeah. I just hope she’ll accept,” Harry said with a worried tone.

Ah, marriage! The blessed union between two people who truly love each other. I knew the boy had some sense to him. I also knew immediately what my human’s answer would be. While she is a very intelligent and rather studious young woman, the emphasis should be placed on the word young. Just because she spends hours of her time reading text and library books, does not mean that is the limit of her reading material. If Harry only knew about the bridal magazines she kept hidden underneath her bed, he wouldn’t be too worried.

“So, how are you going to do it?” Ron asked.

“Do what?”

“Propose! Geez, Harry, sometimes you’re a little thick!”

I’ll second that!

“I – I don’t know,” Harry said. “I mean I haven’t really thought about it.”

“Well, it’s got to be special, especially coming from you.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean you’re Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, defender of the magical realm, slayer of basilisks, Triwizard Champion, et cetera, et cetera. You can’t just walk up to her, pull a ring out of your pocket, and say, ‘Hey, Hermione! Let’s get hitched!’ You’ve to be more dramatic and romantic than that!”

“That’s not what I was planning on doing, Ron,” Harry said flatly.

“I know. I’m just saying we need to give this some thought.”

“We?”

I agreed with Harry. What did he mean by “we”?

“Yeah! I’m going to help you with this.” Ron’s voice was overly enthusiastic, and I inwardly groaned.

Over the past few years I have had the misfortune of being present at some of Ronald Weasley’s “dates” here in the common room. The most romantic line I’ve heard him utter was, “Wanna snog?” It was then I knew that if this was going to go smoothly at all, and not end up with my human entering a convent or worse, I must get involved.

Jumping down from the couch, and leaving a most wonderful session of having the back of my ears scratched, I ran up the stairs to my human’s room. I knew there were some articles in my human’s magazines detailing the best way to propose to someone. I also knew that Harry and Ron, being males, would never think to look in periodicals such as these for help, or anywhere else for that matter. I quickly perused the magazine covers until I found what I had been looking for. The latest copy of Witch’s Bridal Monthly had an article on the top five proposals of all time. I picked the magazine up in my teeth and headed downstairs, hoping that the two boys had not already come up with some lame plan on their own. I needn’t have worried as both looked as if they were deep in thought (a real feat in Weasley’s case) when I entered.

I placed the magazine on the floor beside Ron and waited for him to notice me. Let me say that another observation I have made about Ron Weasley over the years is that he can be oblivious to what is right in front of his own nose. That much was evident as I tried to help him out four years ago when I knew his pet rat was not really a rat, but an animagus in hiding. Not only was the rat an animagus, but he also was a murderer. Whenever I tried to help the poor boy out, he accused me, rather falsely, of trying to eat his pet. This ended up in much yelling between him and my human . . . but I digress. Knowing the boy would never find the magazine on his own, I tried to vocalize the fact that there was something he needed to see. I let out the most dignified “meow” that I could, which he promptly ignored. I tried again, only louder.

“Quiet, Crookshanks,” Ron said.

I tried a third time.

“I said, be quiet!” he yelled.

By this time I was beginning to get angry. He was laid back on the arm of the couch with his arm hanging down nearly touching the floor. Desperate times call for desperate measures, so I did the only thing I could. I bit him.

“Ow!” he cried. “You bloody cat! I’ll get you for that!!”

With that, he then picked up the magazine I had just brought and rolled it up ready to swat me with it. While this is not exactly what I had in mind, he at least had his hands on the magazine. While I may be smarter than he is, his is definitely larger and stronger than I, so I followed the only course of action left open to me. I ran. As I stated earlier, Ron had the size and strength advantage, but he was not quite as agile. I ran in and out of the chairs and tables in the common room, leading him on a merry chase. After a few of minutes, in which he knocked over two vases in his vain attempts to get at me, I decided to end the chase and sought refuge in Harry’s arms. I knew that as my human’s boyfriend he would never let any harm come to me, lest he incur my human’s wrath. True to his heroic nature, he quickly ended the confrontation.

“Ron! Give me that!” he said and snatched the magazine from Ron’s hands. “Sit down before you completely wreck the place!”

“But he bit me, Harry!” Ron whined. “That cat’s had it in for me since the day we met!”

That’s not entirely true, though he was far from the top of the list of my favorite humans.

“Honestly,” Harry went on. “How do you think Hermione would feel if she found out you tried to assault her cat?”

“All right. But only because it’s her.”

“Good, now back to the problem at hand,” Harry said and laid the magazine down between them on the couch.

I closed my eyes and sighed. I honestly don’t see how these two ever survived without me. I was about ready to bite Harry, out of sheer frustration, when Ron spoke.

“Harry! Take a look at this!”

“What is it?”

“It’s a bride’s magazine! And there’s an article, ‘Top 5 Magical Proposals of the Ages’. This is it Harry! This is the answer to all your problems!”

Finally! I thought those two would never figure it out.

“Let me see.” Harry’s eyes were wide now, and I knew his curiosity was piqued. He quickly turned to the article and began reading it.

“Uh-huh,” he mumbled. “I don’t know about this one.” His eyes continued down the page. “I’m certainly not going to try that!”

“Which one?”

“Here, number three.”

“Ugh, no! I certainly can’t see you doing that!”

I rolled my eyes and sighed. Was I going to have to do all the work for the poor boy?

“Wait a minute,” Ron exclaimed. “Look at number four!”

“That’s perfect!” Harry said, the excitement evident in his voice. “I can get Dobby to help and set it up for this weekend.”

“Good idea, mate! And I’ll make sure the common room is cleared out.”

“Thanks, Ron. Now I just need to get the ring. Feel up for an unscheduled trip to Hogsmeade?”

“Do I? You get your dad’s cloak and I’ll get the Marauder’s Map.”

The two jumped up from the couch and ran upstairs, taking the magazine with them. I settled down to resume my nap, secure in the knowledge that my job here was done. Little did I know how wrong I was!

Post script: I hope you enjoyed the first chapter in this little story. I’m planning to update at least once a week, so (hopefully) you won’t have to wait months to finish.

2. Roses are Red

Author’s note: Thanks to everyone who reviewed Chapter 1 of this story. Your kind words mean a lot. I hope to have Chapter 3 ready to update within a few days.

Disclaimer: I wish I could say these characters belong to me, but alas, I cannot. They are from the vivid imagination of Ms. J.K. Rowling.

Chapter 2

Roses are Red

With Harry’s plans to propose to my human set in motion, I should have been able to relax and enjoy life. However, I was unable to do so. Knowing Harry and Ron as well as I do, I kept an eye on them, waiting for them to make some sort of mess of things. I was not to be disappointed.

The two boys returned from Hogsmeade several hours later with a small velvet box and two dozen red rosebuds. They quickly dashed upstairs to their dormitory room, and I promptly followed. If they noticed me following them around, it did not seem to bother them. After all, I had become a permanent part of Gryffindor Tower four years ago when my human rescued me from that horrible shop in Diagon Alley.

Ron locked the door while Harry retrieved the bridal magazine from underneath his bed. They sat down on Harry’s bed, and I took up a position behind and between them. Harry flipped through the magazine until he came upon the page he sought.

“Here it is,” he said. “It’s called the Flower Vocalization spell.”

“What does it do?” Ron asked.

“You cast it over a bunch of flowers that will blossom, such as rosebuds. You need one flower for each syllable. After saying the incantation, you start with one and go clockwise, saying what you want to say. When the activation spell is cast, the flowers open up and say what it is you spoke. The trick is it has to be done in order. Another thing, it says here it can only be done once, as the flowers will not close again.”

“Sounds bloody romantic!”

“I surely hope so.” There was a tremble in Harry’s voice, and I could tell that he really wanted this to work perfectly. “Let’s give it a practice run.”

“So that’s why you bought two dozen of these things!” Ron exclaimed. “I thought you were going to try and have a whole conversation with her just using flowers.”

Harry gave Ron a withered look, and I just rolled my eyes. Sometimes I really wondered if there was a brain beneath all that red hair.

While Ron held onto the roses, Harry pulled out his wand, tapped the flower closest to him and waved it clockwise over the flowers while saying the incantation, “Syllaburus Vocalis”. Red sparks settled on the flowers awaiting his next words. In a clear voice, he said, “I love you, Hermione. Will you marry me?” As each syllable was spoken, the sparks sank into the rosebuds, imbuing them with the power of the spell.

“Now to see if it works,” Harry said. He tapped his wand on the flower closest to him again, waved his wand clockwise over the flowers, and said, “Syllaburus Audius”.

One by one, in rapid succession, the rosebuds blossomed. As each did so, a syllable was uttered. “I-love-you-Her-mi-o-ne-will-you-mar-ry-me?”

“Brilliant!” Ron said, and for once he and I were in agreement. My human would be very impressed.

“Now for the real thing,” Harry said. He handed Ron the second dozen rosebuds and repeated the process. The red sparks flew and settled in as soon as he spoke. He then went over to his bag and pulled out some parchment.

“What are you doing, mate?” Ron asked.

“I’m writing down the instructions on how to activate the spell.” He finished and folded the parchment handing it to Ron. “I’m going to go get cleaned up. I want to look nice for Hermione tonight. Do me a favor and see if you can find a vase to put these in.”

“I’m on it,” Ron said as the two of them headed downstairs. I immediately followed. As well as the spell had been performed upstairs, I still had this nagging feeling that something was going to go wrong.

As Harry headed for the showers, he called over his shoulder to Ron. “Be sure and put the instructions where she can find them. And make certain the flowers stay in that same order!”

Ron shot him a dark look. “I’m not stupid, you know.”

Harry simply nodded and turned back to the door. I wisely kept my mouth shut.

“Oy, Harry.”

“Yeah?”

“What are you going to do with those extra flowers?”

“I dunno, Ron,” Harry smirked. “Do you want them?”

“Well, I . . . uh . . . that is I could . . . ,” Ron stammered.

Oh, brother!

“Give them to Luna, Ron.” Harry winked at his best friend. “She doesn’t have to know you didn’t buy them.”

“Thanks, Harry!”

Once that little exchange was over and Harry left headed toward the showers (why humans want to have water poured over their heads when licking oneself is a perfectly fine way to get clean, I’ll never know), I settled down for a nap. Ron, on the other hand, was frantic. If you’ve never seen a Weasley on a mission, let me tell you that it is quite a sight to see! It took him several minutes and several trips out into the hallway, but Ron was eventually able to find a vase and fill it with water. I guess with all his running around, what happened next was inevitable.

Let me point out that it is not my fault I screeched and scared Ron into dropping the flowers. I am a cat, and as such have a tail. Since you do not have a tail (at least I presume you do not, but if you do, then you’ll know what I’m talking about!) let me tell you that it is a very sensitive part of my anatomy. Particularly when it is stepped on by a foot the size of a small rowing scull. Needless to say, my caterwaul (no pun intended!) startled the poor boy enough that he jumped and scattered the flowers all over the floor.

“Oh, bloody hell,” Ron said, mirroring my sentiments exactly. “Harry’s going to kill me!”

He picked the flowers off the floor and began arranging them in the vase as best he could, all the while glowering at me from the corner of his eye.

“It’s all your fault, you know,” he growled at me. “If you had been able to keep that big, bushy tail of yours out of the way, I wouldn’t have stepped on it. Stupid cat!”

I started to make some witty remark about the enormous size of his feet when I realized he wouldn’t be able to understand what I was saying. So I did what any normal, rational being would do in my position . . . I licked my tail and ignored him.

Ron spent the next few minutes arranging and rearranging the flowers. I groaned inwardly. Did he not pay any attention when Harry read about the spell? The flowers have to be in a specific order. I tried to get his attention to let him know this, but he kept brushing me aside.

I thought about knocking the vase over, but just as soon as this thought formed, the portrait hole opened and the rest of the Gryffindors entered the common room. Ron dashed upstairs and I went in search of my human. I soon saw her bushy brown hair as she stepped through the portrait hole. I strolled over to her and let her know I was in the room by rubbing up against her legs.

“Crookshanks!” Hermione cried and picked me up. “Did you miss me today?” she asked as she scratched my ears. I purred in contentment, not because I enjoyed it, but because it made her happy to scratch my ears.

“Hermione!”

My human walked across the common room floor toward the one who was calling her. Ginny Weasley, Ron’s younger and infinitely smarter sister, was standing beside the table where the flowers were.

“It looks like you’ve got some flowers here,” Ginny said.

“I’ll bet they’re from Harry,” my human said with a smile.

She set me down on the floor and began reading the note Harry had written.

“Start with the flower in front of you and wave your wand once around the flowers clockwise while saying Syllaburus Audius,” my human said aloud. “Not a very romantic note.”

I noticed Harry and Ron had come down the stairs and were anxiously watching as my human raised her wand and did as instructed.

I would like to say that the spell went off exactly as it had earlier in the boys’ dormitory. I would like to say that, but I cannot. Instead, what was heard throughout the common room was, “Me-oh-my-you-love-mar-ry-will-you-knee-her-eye.”

To say that my human was perplexed would have been an understatement. A puzzled look crossed her face as she looked from the flowers to Ginny and back. Most everyone in the common room burst into laughter.

“What?” she asked. “Is this a prototype of one of Fred and George’s jokes?”

“Don’t ask me,” Ginny said. “I’ve never seen it before.”

I turned to look at Harry and Ron. Harry had taken a few steps toward my human with the velvet box before him, ready to present the ring. He stood staring at the flowers, his face becoming redder as the moments passed. Ron, on the other hand, looked ghostly pale as if his face had been drained of all its blood.

Harry turned slowly toward Ron who had already turned toward the staircase and was casually making his way back to the dorm. Harry then sped after Ron who bolted up the stairs two at a time. I sprinted after them. As quick as Ron was, Harry was faster and the two reached the door to their room at the same time. I was barely able to slip inside before they slammed the door shut.

“What happened, Ron?” Harry’s voice was full of confusion. “The spell went perfectly up here.” He ran a hand through his unruly black hair. “Did you get the flowers mixed up?”

Ron shifted nervously under Harry’s gaze. Go on, tell him, I urged, only to them it sounded like “meow”. Ron turned his eyes toward me.

“It was Crookshanks’ fault,” he said pointing his finger at me.

My fault?

“His fault?” Harry said incredulously. “How is it his fault?”

“If he hadn’t screeched, it wouldn’t have scared me, and I wouldn’t have dropped the flowers!”

My fault indeed, Mr. I-have-skis-for-shoes! I gave him my most indignant stare, which between you and me can be pretty powerful.

“And just why did Crookshanks ‘screech’, Ron?”

Yes, Bigfoot! Tell him why!

“Er . . . I kind of stepped on his tail,” Ron blushed.

“Well, that’s just great.” Harry was exasperated and threw his hands in the air. “Now I’ve got to come up with another plan.”

“Couldn’t we just go get another batch of rosebuds? I’ll pay for them?”

“No,” Harry said. “The surprise is gone. Besides, Hermione would probably think they’re from Fred and George again.”

“Oh.” Ron’s face fell as he sat down on his bed. “I’m really sorry, Harry.”

“I know you are. You didn’t mean to ruin it.” Harry sat down beside him and placed a hand on Ron’s shoulder.

Yell at him some more! Don’t let him off that easily! I was really disappointed in Harry. I expected the Boy-Who-Lived to be a little tougher.

“Hand me that magazine, Ron,” Harry said. “Let’s see what other ideas they’ve got.”

I sighed and made myself comfortable on Harry’s bed. This could take a while.

3. Bubble, Bubble, Toil & Trouble

Author’s note: Thanks so much for the kind reviews. Since this is fan fiction and can hardly be judged based on sales, reviews are the next best thing. Keep them coming!

Disclaimer: The characters belong to J.K. Rowling. The plot belongs to me.

Chapter 3

Bubble, Bubble, Toil & Trouble

After the fiasco with the flowers, Harry and Ron decided to thoroughly research their next plan before putting it into action. Number two on the list of the Top Five Magical Proposals of the Ages was an incandescent bubble that would follow the wizard’s fiancé-to-be around until she noticed it and popped it, at which point the melodious voice of her beloved would whisper those sweet words, “I love you, will you marry me?”

Unlike the flowers, in which the order the flowers were arranged was the key, the real trick to this proposal was the timing. While the wizard who created the spell had figured out how to get the voice inside the bubble, he had not been able to figure out how to control the bubble’s size. Therefore, cast the spell too late, and the bubble would not grow enough for the intended object of his affections to hear his words of love when popped. Cast it too soon, and it could grow too large, thus giving his beloved a splitting headache. However, this was something over which Harry felt he had at least a modicum of control. This was not to be the case.

Two days after the disaster with the flowers, Harry, Ron and myself (I had to keep an eye on the boys, didn’t I?) stood on the steps leading up to the boys’ dormitories awaiting the arrival of my human. Harry knew her schedule by heart and figured out the perfect time to cast the spell.

“Bubblearium Vacalis,” he said and held the tip of his wand up to his lips. A small, shimmering bubble appeared and he spoke into it. “I love you, my sweet. Will you marry me?” Once finished, he gently blew on the bubble, which obediently set off in search of my human.

Harry had timed the casting of the spell so that my human and the bubble would meet halfway across the common room, at which point the bubble would have grown from the size of a pea to the size of a walnut. Unfortunately, my human was running late this morning, and the bubble was nearly to the stairs, and slightly larger than a golf ball when she emerged from the stairwell.

“I’m so late!” my human cried to no one in particular as she sprinted for the portrait hole. “I forgot I had a meeting with McGonagall this morning!”

The bubble was just changing its trajectory when she reached the portrait hole and Harry saw this. In an attempt to stall her, he called out to her.

“Hermione, wait!” He ran over to her and tried to wrap his arms around her, but she just held up her hand to his chest in an attempt to stop him.

“I really don’t have time right now, sweetie,” she said. “If I get through in time, we’ll talk in the Great Hall. If not, I’ll see you in Transfiguration.”

With that, she kissed him on the cheek and scrambled through the hole. Harry stared after her, and only barely registered the bubble, now the size of a tennis ball, following her.

“Oh, no,” he whispered and bolted through the exit. Ron and I immediately followed, ignoring the questioning stares of the other Gryffindors. We had just caught up to Harry and could see my human pulling away in the distance when a voice called out.

“Hey, Weasley!”

We all three turned to see Ernie MacMillan, the Head Boy, standing at the top of the stairs.

“Did you forget the prefect meeting this morning?” Ernie asked.

“I must have,” Ron blushed. I swear that boy would forget what his name was if his mother hadn’t sewn it in all his clothes. Sheepishly he turned back to Harry. “Sorry, Harry. I’ve got to go to this meeting.”

Harry said nothing, only nodded and continued on. My human was out of sight by this time. The bubble, however, had drifted further away and was now about the size of a human head. Harry dashed off after it with me hot on his heels.

Now Harry is an intelligent young man, and I really think a lot of him. And you can’t really put all the blame on him for what happened next, given the situation. But he has been at Hogwarts for seven years, and one would think that he would remember, after all that time, where the missing steps were. He didn’t.

One minute I was watching his feet as they scrambled down the steps. The next minute I was staring at the back of his head as the lower half of his body disappeared into the marble.

“Bloody hell,” he cursed. He was holding on to the step in front of him with both hands, trying desperately to pull himself up. Meanwhile, the bubble was getting farther and farther away. For my part, I could only stand there and watch as I didn’t have the body mass to help pull him out of his predicament. After a minute or two of struggling, he finally turned and looked at me.

“Crookshanks,” Harry said. “See if you can go and stop the bubble before it reaches Hermione!”

I nodded and left a confused looking Harry behind. I don’t think he ever really understood just how intelligent I am. To be honest with you, it hurt a little bit, but I put my feelings aside and went about the task laid before me.

Fortunately for me, I knew where Professor McGonagall’s office was, having made many a nighttime excursion throughout the castle. By the time I caught up with the bubble, it had reached the size of a soccer ball and was gaining speed. I leaped at the bubble, hoping to pop it with my claws, but alas, it floated just out of my reach. Several students passing by saw me and stopped to watch. None bothered to help me, though. I suppose to them I was just another dumb cat playing with a bubble. Silly twits!

When the bubble reached McGonagall’s office, it had grown to the size of a beach ball, yet it still floated just out of my reach. The door to McGonagall’s office was open, and the bubble floated easily inside. I entered right behind it and saw the look on the professor’s face. It was one of total bewilderment.

“What in the name of Merlin is that?” she asked.

My human turned around to see what her professor was talking about. There were two things wrong with this, however. One, the bubble had stopped right behind her, and two, she was holding a quill in her hands. As she turned, the tip of the quill pierced the bubble’s skin. What followed was Harry’s voice magnified a thousand times.

“I LOVE YOU, MY SWEET. WILL YOU MARRY ME?”

The cacophony the erupted was enough to rattle the windows. My human and the professor clapped their hands to their ears. I, unfortunately, have no hands and could not do the same. To make matters worse, with my keen cat hearing, it sounded even louder to me. The last thing I saw, before I passed out from the pain, was my human collapsing in front of me.

*****

My human had spent many hours in the hospital wing during her seven years at Hogwarts. How could she be friends with Harry Potter and not? However, I never thought that I would ever find myself there, and yet, there I was.

I awoke to find myself lying on my human’s bed, curled up in a ball at her feet. I turned my head to see Harry sitting at my human’s beside, her hand lovingly wrapped in his. I could see the worry etched on his face, and my little feline heart went out to him. Then I saw his lips move, but his words were all muffled.

Oh no! I’ve gone deaf!

Quickly I pawed at my ears and felt something stuffed down in them. I realized that the thunderous sound from the bubble must have done something to my eardrums and that Madame Pomfrey, being the angelic woman she is, must have applied some sort of ointment to some cotton balls and stuffed them in my ears in order to help them heal. However, since I am part Kneazle and heal rather quickly, I was more annoyed at not being able to hear than I was grateful for what she had done. I kept digging at my ears until the cotton balls fell out and I was able to hear once more. It was then that I heard the nurse’s reply.

“I’ve repaired the damage to her eardrums,” Madame Pomfrey said. “She’ll be fine in a few hours, although she’ll more than likely have a headache for a day or two.”

Harry sighed in relief. “What about Professor McGonagall?”

“I’ll be fine as well.”

Harry turned to see his professor standing behind him. I was startled myself. I should have heard her approach. Then I realized that while I might have been in better shape than my human, but I still had suffered a serious trauma.

Relief washed over Harry’s face when he saw the professor was all right.

“However,” McGonagall continued, “as flattered as I am, I’m afraid I’m going to have to turn down your proposal. You are much too young for me.”

Harry looked taken aback by this, but I just smiled. I knew the professor had a sense of humor.

“I’m sorry professor,” Harry said, his face showing genuine concern. “I never meant for it to turn out like this. It’s just that she’s so special to me, I wanted my proposal to be special.”

“If it comes from the heart,” McGonagall said, “then it will be special.” With that, she turned to leave. She had taken about two steps when she stopped and turned to face Harry. “You really love her, don’t you Mr. Potter?”

“More than life itself,” Harry said.

McGonagall beamed at him and my heart swelled with pride. I knew Harry loved my human; he had demonstrated that time and time again. But this statement really told me how much he cared for her; it came from his soul, as well as his heart. I knew that she would be safe with him. If a cat could have cried, I would have.

When we were alone again, Harry reached over and stroked my fur with his free hand. I looked up at him, and we stared at each other silently for a few moments before Harry broke the silence.

“Well Crookshanks,” he said. “It looks like we move on to plan three.”

I rolled my eyes and tried to bury my head under the covers.

Here we go again!

4. Riddle Me This

Author’s note: Thanks for the reviews. They really mean a lot. I hope everyone is enjoying reading this as much as I enjoy writing it. It has taken a lot of effort trying to do everything from a half cat/half kneazle’s point of view, but from your reviews, I think the results have been worth it.

Disclaimer: I don’t own any of the characters in this story, though I wish I did. That honor goes to Ms. J.K. Rowling.

Chapter 4

Riddle Me This

It took several hours for her to recover, but eventually the headache wore off and my human was back to normal, despite a slight ringing in her ears that persisted for several days. Unfortunately for her, she was standing too close to the bubble when it burst, the noise becoming overwhelming, and she was unable to make out the words to Harry’s proposal. Professor McGonagall, the romantic at heart that she is, kept Harry’s secret. The only words she said about the matter were that someone was obviously trying to play a prank on them.

Harry, in the meantime, had been busy planning his next proposal attempt. By this time, all the seventh year Gryffindor boys had been clued in to what those two bumbling idi-. . . I mean, what those two, fine young men had been attempting. It had started when Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnegan found Ron and Harry reading through my human’s bridal magazine one afternoon. Curious as to why two, strapping young men would be reading a woman’s bridal magazine in the privacy of their dorm room, questions of their masculinity were immediately raised, and Dean even went so far as to ask if it was really appropriate for Ron to wear white, seeing as how the redhead had bragged to all that he had been deflowered the year before. A scuffle immediately ensued, and many hexes and curses were flown about striking pillows and mattresses sending feathers flying everywhere. After five minutes a truce was made, but not before the seventh year boy’s dormitory looked as if two chicken armies had decided to use it for a battlefield. Neville Longbottom had been brought into what was now known as The Conspiracy to Propose to Hermione (or The Conspiracy for short), after he had pouted about being left out of what he termed “the mother of all pillow fights”.

Seeing as how I was an honorary member of The Conspiracy (after all, it was I who tried to stop the bubble from popping before it reached my human), I was able to be present at all of their clandestine meetings. I must say that if I thought things were going badly when it was just Harry and Ron, they were nothing compared to when the rest of The Conspiracy became involved.

Seamus insisted that Harry dress up like Romeo, complete with tights that showed off his entire “package” (“Let Hermione see what she’s getting!”). Harry quickly discarded that idea, and I for one agreed with him. Flaunting oneself in public, indeed!

“Eww,” Seamus said. “Crookshanks is licking himself!”

Stopping my bath, I gave him an indignant stare. There was a difference between “advertising one’s goodies” and cleanliness. Clearly the boy could not make the distinction.

Dean’s suggestion was not much better. According to him, Harry should take Hermione to Madam Puddifoot’s in Hogsmeade and find a nice secluded table where he could ask her in private. I thought this was a rather good idea. However, Harry looked at Dean as if he had just grown another head.

“Are you mental?!” Harry asked.

“What?” replied Dean. “It’s a nice place!”

“That’s not the point, mate,” Ron piped in. “Madam Puddifoot’s is where Harry took Cho Chang on their one and only date!”

“Yeah,” Neville said. “And you know how Hermione gets whenever she’s around anything that reminds her of Cho.”

“I made the mistake of saying her name around Hermione the other day,” Seamus added, a slight quaver in his voice. “I thought she was going to hex me on the spot! I was never so scared in all me life!”

Throughout all of this, Harry remained silent. That may have been as a result of all the blood draining from his face.

For those who are not in the know, my human despises Cho Chang with a passion. Not only was she Harry’s first real girlfriend, but soon after Harry and my human got together in their sixth year (with a little help from yours truly!), Cho decided she wanted Harry back and set forth a plan to do just that. My human was just as stubborn and decided that now that she had Harry Potter, there was no way on God’s green earth she was giving him up. What followed was a week long witch’s battle of epic proportions that culminated with Harry bravely stepping in the middle and ended with him spending three days in the hospital wing. But that is another story.

As soon as Dean heard these arguments, he quickly rescinded his idea and kept his mouth shut for the rest of the evening. After much discussion, it was agreed on by a vote of four to one (Seamus being the only dissenter and insisting that Harry dress like Romeo) that Harry would attempt Magical Proposal Number Three. I must take a moment to point out here that the vote was actually five to one as I had my paw raised as well, but no one seemed to notice me except for Neville who thought I was swatting at a dangling thread from his robes.

Magical Proposal Number Three, according to Witch’s Bridal Monthly, was supposed to be a romantic spell based upon the magic of ancient Egypt. Legend has it that Ramses II had his sorcerers enchant the Sphinx to propose to his beloved Nefertari by asking her a riddle. And so, The Conspiracy felt that Harry should charm one of the many statues found in the halls of Hogwarts to do the same with my human. After the vote was cast, the members of The Conspiracy, myself included, went in search of the perfect statue. We descended the steps from the boy’s dormitory with the same determination of young men going to war (or young cats, as the case may be). We must have looked an odd sight to those in the Gryffindor common room, for we received many stares on our way out the portrait hole.

It took about ten minutes to find the right statue, but find it we did. On the second floor landing, near the entrance to the Great Hall, was a statue of the wizard Gulgathar the Great who was known for his work with animals. Everyone seemed to think this was particularly appropriate since my human had shown a great fondness for animals (one of the reasons I chose her as my human in the first place).

Neville pulled the magazine from the insides of his robes and began to read the particulars of the spell. Harry was to recite the incantation with the appropriate wand movements, then speak the words he wanted the statue to utter. Then he had to give the trigger to the spell, which would be when he and my human passed by on their way to breakfast the following morning.

With a flourish of his wand, Harry spoke the incantation perfectly. The statue’s face lit up with a purple light as Harry spoke the riddle it was to repeat:

This riddle I bring from one you hold dear,

It is a question you might wish to hear.

So listen with all of your mind and your heart,

And apply that wonderful brain so smart.

‘Tis a query your loved one wishes to make.

Answer it “yes” or his heart you’ll break.

“Yes” will win you something you’ll love,

A circle that shines with light from above.

After the spell was cast, and Harry checked and double-checked to make certain nothing could go wrong, our little group marched back up stairs to Gryffindor Tower. Once again we were met by wondering stares, not the least of which came from my human. In an effort to forestall any questions as to our previous whereabouts, Harry excused himself from the rest of our coterie and proceeded to kiss my human so deeply and thoroughly that even I began to blush. When they pulled apart from each other, I could tell by the glazed look in her eyes and the idiotic half-smile on her face that she had no clue what planet she was on, let alone that her boyfriend had been conspicuously missing for the past twenty minutes.

With the feeling that their mission had been accomplished, the boys headed up to their dormitory while I followed my weak-kneed human to her room. I was looking forward to a blissful night’s sleep. Instead I was forced to endure an hour’s worth of giggling, hormonal teenage girls as my human was bombarded with requests to describe, in excruciating detail, what her roommates had just termed “the kiss of the century”. Once the giddiness died down, I was able to finally drift off into oblivion. But before I did, one question ran through my mind: If my human thought she was happy now, what would she be like after tomorrow?

*****

The next day, all of us in The Conspiracy were up early and out the portrait hole before any of the girls could arise. Harry stayed behind to walk my human down, making sure the spell would go off at just the right time. Ron took point and led us down the stairs to the doors of the Great Hall, where we took up a position that allowed us a good view of second floor landing. Actually, it allowed the boys a good view of the second floor landing. From my disadvantaged height, I had a most excellent view of the stairs.

“What’s he doing there?” I heard Seamus ask.

“Who?” Neville inquired.

“Malfoy!” Ron snarled.

Standing behind the boys, I jumped in the air, trying to get a look at what they were talking about. Sure enough, the blonde haired Slytherin was leaning against the statue of Gulgathar looking as smug as ever. I tried to make out what he was doing, but only succeeded in making myself look like Malfoy himself when Barty Crouch posing as Mad-Eye Moody turned him into a bouncing ferret several years ago. Tired of all the jumping, I decided to find a better vantage point and settled upon Neville’s shoulder.

At the same time, Ron, who had decided that Malfoy was not going to leave, pulled his wand and muttered, “Tarantallegra!” Unfortunately, Neville, who did not appreciate the feel of my claws suddenly imbedded in his flesh, stumbled forward into Ron. Ron’s spell went wide, missing Malfoy and striking the statue. There was a bright flash and a resonating splat as the spell struck the marble artwork. Malfoy jerked his head in our direction, and nearly drew his wand in retaliation. However, seeing there were five of us (yes, I am counting myself with them) and only one of him, he quickly decided that discretion was the better part of valor and stalked off up the stairs, but not before giving a glare that promised retribution. After Malfoy slinked away, Dean brought up a rather astute question.

“Ron?” he asked. “Do you think that spell you cast did anything to mess up the one Harry cast last night?”

Ron stood there with a blank look on his face, alternately looking at Dean, then Seamus, then Neville, then (surprisingly) at me before looking back at Dean.

“I don’t know,” he said. “Do you think we should . . .”

Before he could finish the sentence, the sound of footsteps could be heard coming down the stairs. Within seconds Harry and my human, hand in hand, came waltzing down the stone staircase, the rest of Gryffindor House in tow. As he reached the statue, Harry stopped and flicked his wand at it. The purple glow surrounded the face and it began to recite, in a bass version of Harry’s voice, the riddle he had given it last night:

This riddle I bring from one you hold dear,

It is a question, you might wish to hear.

So listen with all of your mind and your heart . . .

Unfortunately, that was all the statue was able to say. Much to everyone’s amazement, there must have been a slight magical residue left over from Ron’s spell. Since Harry’s spell had, in effect, animated the statue, Ron’s leg twitching spell fulfilled it’s intended purpose, if not on it’s intended victim.

Ka-thunk, ka-thunk, ka-thunk, ka-thunk, ka-thunk, ka-thunk, CRASH!!

As soon as it began to speak, Gulgathar’s statue began walking jerkily forward until it reached the landing, where it promptly bounced down the stairs before smashing itself into tiny bits at our feet in front of the Great Hall.

Harry stood at the top of the landing with a look of pure astonishment on his face. He glanced from the ruined statue to us and back again, silently asking what had gone wrong.

“What was that all about?” my human asked Harry, who stood looking at Ron. Ron just shrugged and headed into the Great Hall for breakfast, followed by the rest of The Conspiracy.

I stayed behind and waited for my human to descend the stairs. When she saw me, she picked me up and began scratching my chin.

“Crookshanks!” she cried. “What are you doing down here?”

I purred in her ear hoping that she would forget that just moments before I was perched on top of Neville’s shoulder. That must have worked, for she proceeded to carry me into the Great Hall with her, where she sat a saucer of milk on the floor in front of me.

Moments later, Harry shuffled into the Great Hall, shock still evident on his face. He took a seat beside my human and attempted to eat.

“Harry, are you okay?” there was a touch of concern in my human’s voice. “You don’t look so good.”

“I’m fine,” he said weakly. “I . . . fine.”

My human shrugged and turned her talk to Ginny Weasley. When it was apparent they were deep in conversation, Ron leaned over to Harry.

“Looks like we try Magical Proposal Number Four, eh mate?”

Harry’s head hit the table, and everyone just stared.

Post script: Some people have wondered why I just didn’t have Harry propose in the traditional manner of getting down on one knee and presenting Hermione with a ring. Quite simply, I look at it this way; Harry grew up not really knowing what romance was. It wasn’t until he met Hermione that he even knew what love for the opposite sex was. Keeping this in mind, remember that Ron has been a big influence on Harry’s life, so when Ron made the comment in the first chapter that he was The Harry Potter and that his proposal had to be special, Harry took that to heart. (Also, the story would be really short if he did that, and nowhere near as funny!)

I’ve also gotten the impression that several people are anxious to know when Harry will actually be able to “pop the question” for real. All I can say is, once again, look back to the first chapter. There were five top magical proposals of all time, and I had planned on Harry trying all five before deciding to try one of his own. So as of right now, I plan on three more chapters after this one as well as a short epilogue.

Oh, and if you would like for me to write about the battle between Hermione and Cho, let me know. It won’t be a Crookshanks story, but I believe it might be a fun one to write!

5. Where There

Author’s note: Not too much longer to go now guys! Thank you for being patient with me and hanging in there. I hope you’ll enjoy these next few chapters as much as you’ve enjoyed the first four. I hope that by the time you reach chapter 7, it will have all been worth it!

Disclaimer: Once again, these characters are not mine, but Ms. J.K. Rowling’s.

Chapter 5

Where There’s Smoke, There’s Fire!

“The fates must hate me,” Harry Potter groaned. He lay on his bed, staring up at the ceiling. I was trying to comfort the poor boy by snuggling up against him, and he showed his appreciation by absently scratching behind my ears.

“I don’t think they hate you, mate,” Ron said. “I just think you’re having a string of bad luck.”

“Bad luck!” Harry sprang off the bed, jarring me from my comfortable place at his side. I gave him an affronted look. “Bad luck! This whole plan has been a disaster from the start!”

He began pacing the floor of the boys’ dormitory. He had rarely left his room since the debacle with the statue, and my human was beginning to get worried. She had sent me to his room to keep an eye on him and make sure everything was all right. Normally she would have checked on him herself, but since they had begun their romance, she felt odd slipping into the boys’ dormitory. As a prefect, she had to set a good example. Besides, she had spent a lot of time recently investigating the strange occurrences that had been happening around her.

“I think I’m just going to give in and propose in the traditional manner,” Harry said.

“No, you can’t do that,” Ron cried.

“And just why not?”

“I told you this before, mate. You’re the Boy-Who-Lived! People expect bigger things from you, Harry Potter, and all that!”

“He’s right, you know,” Dean chimed in. “You do have a reputation to live up to.”

“Don’t remind me,” Harry groaned. “I’ve still got first years coming up asking to see the scar! I don’t think I’ve ever been more tired of being Harry Potter than I am right now.”

The Conspiracy sat and pondered his words. I began to see how all his fame could be a burden to him. After all, unlike myself, he was only human.

“I’ve got it!” Seamus called out. He had been sitting quietly the whole time. Everyone looked over to see him holding the bridal magazine. Harry groaned even louder.

“No,” Harry whined. “Not another plan.”

“Hear me out before you reject it,” Seamus said and began reading. “’Magical Proposal Number Four: Words of Fire. The wizard in love writes a letter to the witch who has captured his heart and casts a series of spells on the parchment. Once she opens the letter, the words leap from the page to spell out his request in the air in flames.’”

“Sounds cool,” Neville said.

“I don’t know,” Harry said. “With the way my luck has been going, I don’t know if I trust myself to work with flame spells right now.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Seamus replied. “I’ll cast the fire charms for you.”

The rest of The Conspiracy looked at one another. Although I wasn’t here at the time, word had spread that Seamus used to have some trouble with fire after he had first come to Hogwarts. Whenever someone needed a laugh, it was frequently told around the Gryffindor common room that he had burned his eyebrows off while attempting to change a goblet of water into rum.

“Oh come on guys!” Seamus cried. “I’ve come a long way since my first year. Professor Flitwick says I can perform some of the best fire charms he’s ever seen!”

Harry looked at the others, who all shrugged, then back at Seamus. “All right. But I’m only doing this because I don’t trust myself to cast the spell at this time. If I did it, Hermione would probably end up setting her hair on fire.”

I had my doubts about this, and from the look on his face, Ron did as well. I always hated it when Ron and I agreed on things. It always made my fur stand on end.

“Great,” Seamus said. “When do you want me to cast the spell?”

Harry pondered for a moment. “Tomorrow night. Give me a day to write the proposal. That will also give you the time to study up on the spells.”

“No problem!”

With the next plan agreed upon, the boys left their room. No problem, Seamus had said. Then why did I feel like there was going to be a problem?

* * * * *

The next day I was sitting with Harry in his dormitory as he finished his letter to my human. I had decided to stay with him for moral support. Ron was having to serve detention with Filch, something about having set of a dungbomb in the potions dungeon, Dean was off chasing after his latest conquest, and Neville had the task of keeping my human busy in the library.

Harry had just finished the letter when he turned and looked at me. “Well, Crookshanks,” he said. “I think I’m ready.” He picked up the letter and read it to me:

“My dearest Hermione,

My heart burns for your love. Please do me the honor of spending the rest of your life with me. Marry me, Hermione.

All my love,

Harry”

“What do you think?” Harry asked me as he finished.

While it certainly wasn’t Shakespeare, it was definitely from his heart, and I knew my human would love it. I laid my paw on his leg and meowed my approval.

“Thanks,” he said and looked at me.

We sat there and looked at each other for a few moments, and for the first time in the four years that we had known each other, I think we were finally starting to communicate. The moment was short lived, however, as Seamus came bursting into the room.

“Harry!” he cried. “You’ll never guess what!”

“Malfoy got caught in an embarrassing position with Snape and now they’re both gone from Hogwarts?” Harry asked with a smile on his face.

I chuckled at this. It was no secret how Harry felt about those two individuals.

“Eww, gross, no!” Seamus said. “This is even better.”

“I don’t see how,” Harry replied, “but go on.”

“You remember that ‘water to rum’ spell I was working on our first year?” Harry nodded. “Well, I finally got it! Watch!”

He walked over to the pitcher by the window and pulled out his wand.

“Eye of rabbit, harp string hum, turn this water into rum.” There was a pop and a flash, then I could smell the strong scent of rum permeate the room. Seamus quickly picked up the pitcher and poured himself a glass. He quickly downed it and with a grin on his face, poured another.

“Uh . . . Seamus,” Harry said. “You might want to go easy on that stuff.” I nodded my head in agreement. Seamus shook his head and looked at me, then at the glass in his hand.

“Don’t worry,” Seamus said. “I’m Irish! We know how to handle our alcohol. Just wait until I find a rhyme for whiskey!”

“Well, before you get too deep into your cups,” Harry said, “why don’t you go ahead and cast the charms on this letter?”

“Right,” Seamus said and started trying to remember the incantations.

This made me feel uncomfortable, so I walked over the magazine and pawed through it until I found the right page. As the boy began to cast the spells, I followed along in the magazine, making sure he said them correctly. I wanted to make sure nothing went wrong this time. Seamus paused and looked at me.

“Harry?” he asked. “Is Crookshanks reading?”

Harry glanced my way and shook his head. “Nah. There’s probably a bug on the magazine.”

I snorted. Bug indeed!

Seamus continued, and amazingly enough, performed the spells correctly. Perhaps those stories about his eyebrows were exaggerated.

“Now what,” Seamus asked.

“I’m going to tie the note to Crookshanks collar and have him deliver it for me.”

Excuse me?!

“That’s bloody romantic,” Seamus said and promptly belched.

Harry got up and grabbed his broom from underneath his bed. “I’ve got Quidditch practice. Keep Crookshanks here, and when I get back, I’ll set the plan in motion.”

“Wicked!”

Harry left us alone and Seamus turned his attention back to the pitcher of rum. A few minutes later, and the pitcher was empty. He staggered into the bathroom to refill the pitcher. I could hear his slurred speech from my position on Harry’s bed.

“Eye of rabbit, harp string hum, turn this water into rum!”

He wobbled back into the room and refilled his glass. In no time, the second pitcher was empty. Seamus started to go back into the bathroom when he saw Harry’s letter.

“Did I cast those spells like Harry wanted? Oh well, better safe than sorry!”

Before I could do anything, the inebriated lad had cast the spells a second time. I shuddered to think what would happen when my human opened the letter.

Seamus continued his drinking, and I settled down for a nap. Some time later, I was rudely awakened when I felt a wetness on my fur. Seamus was standing over me with the pitcher sloshing rum all over the place. He blearily looked at me and spoke.

“Shookcranksh,” his speech was slurred. “I tink I f’got to casht the shpellsh. Better do dat now.”

Again, the drunk Gryffindor cast the spells on the letter. Surprisingly, he said the words correctly and the envelope glowed as the magic settled itself within the parchment. A thought occurred to me; what would happen when my human opened the letter? Seamus had put three times the magical power into the parchment, and two of those were after he was already drunk. My human would be lucky if the envelope did not explode in her hands. I knew I had to do something.

I ran over to the desk and grabbed the envelope with my teeth. Seamus only stared at me dumbfounded. I bolted for the door when I had the sudden realization that I had no way of opening it. For one as intelligent as I am, this thought was rather disconcerting, for this is not a mistake I would normally make. However, as luck would have it, someone was opening the door just as I approached. I gathered my speed and took off through the opening . . . and right into the arms of Harry Potter.

“Whoa, Crookshanks,” he said as he picked me up off the floor. “Where do you think you’re going? I know you’re as anxious as I am for Hermione to get this, but let’s do this right.”

With that, he sat down on his bed and took the envelope from my mouth. I reluctantly let go. Although I was infinitely more intelligent, he was much larger and stronger than I. He then pulled out a piece of red ribbon from his robes and began threading it through the envelope. I started fidgeting as he tied the ribbon around my neck.

“Crookshanks!” Harry said. “Calm down!”

Seeing there was no getting around this, I did as he asked. My only hope was that I could avoid my human long enough to remove the letter myself; until I could dispose of it properly.

Once the letter was securely tied around my neck, Harry picked me up and we headed downstairs to the common room. There were only a few people present, mostly the younger students. I thought this would be my opportunity to escape, but Harry walked over to where a group of first year girls were studying.

“Amanda,” he said to a cute girl with blonde hair. “Would you do me a favor?”

The girl looked up, surprised that he had spoken to her. “S-sure, Harry!” Her eyes were wide and she had a silly grin plastered on her face.

“Could you run Crookshanks up to Hermione’s room for me? I would really appreciate it.”

“No, p-p-problem,” she answered and took me from Harry’s arms. She headed for the girls’ dormitories, but kept looking back at Harry so much I thought she was going to run into the wall. As we started up the stairs, I started squirming to get down. The girl only tightened her grip on me. “You be still, kitty! Harry asked me to deliver you and that’s what I’m going to do!”

We reached my human’s door, and the young Gryffindor knocked timidly on the wood. A moment later, and it opened to reveal my human’s head staring down at us.

“Hello, Amanda!” my human said. “What can I do for you?”

“H-Harry wanted me to bring Crookshanks to you,” Amanda whispered. I caught the slight smile on my human’s face. She knew full well the effect her boyfriend had on the younger female Gryffindors.

“Thank you,” she said, taking me from the young girl’s arms. “Will you do me one favor?” she asked with an impish grin on her face. “Will you give Harry a hug to say ‘thank you’ for me?”

The blonde girl’s eyes widened and she blushed to the roots of her hair. “Okay,” her voice came out in a barely audible whisper before she turned and scrambled down the stairs.

My human chuckled and shut the door. “What’s this?” she asked looking at the letter hanging around my neck. She set me down on her bed and began untying the ribbon. I saw my chance and bolted from her grasp. “Crookshanks!” she called after me, but I continued scurrying around the room. “Get back here!” I dove under the bed, barely evading her grasp. “Don’t make me hex you!”

I paused, pondering this. Would she hex me? She had never threatened to do so before. However, her curiosity was so piqued about the letter, that she just might. Before I could fully form an answer to the question, I heard her mutter an incantation. “Locomotor mortis!” I felt my legs snap together, and I unceremoniously fell over. I mewled softly as she pulled me from under the bed. I cannot believe she did that! To me!!

“Sorry Crookshanks,” she said as she laid me on the bed. “I had no other choice.”

I kept thrashing my head about to keep her from the letter, but her deft fingers were unable to release the red ribbon from around my neck. She smiled as she stood and opened the letter. I meowed once, but it was lost in what happened next.

There was a loud “whoosh” as flames erupted from the letter lighting the bed curtains on fire. My human screamed and pulled her wand to cast a water summoning charm. In her excitement, she overdid the spell, and soon the entire dorm was flooded.

Wet hair hanging down her face, my human looked at me and released the spell holding my legs together. I trotted over and rubbed against her calves. She bent down to pick me up. Scratching behind my ears, she whispered, “I think someone’s out to get me!”

I sighed. Harry was not going to take this well.

Post script: I want to thank my aunt Becky for providing me with the proposal ideas. I wouldn’t have a story if it wasn’t for her. And to David Tatum, I did get the basic format of this story from AKScully’s “Assault of the Senses”. I loved that story and how each chapter was another disaster. I’m glad you picked up on the similarity.

6. Singing the Blues

Author’s note: Thanks to everyone who reviewed the last installment of this story. Your kind words mean a lot to me. Special thanks to my aunt Becky, for without her, I wouldn’t have been able to complete this chapter.

Disclaimer: All characters found within the contents of this story are the sole property of Ms. J.K. Rowling. The only thing that is mine is the plot and the song.

Chapter 6

Singing the Blues

Harry sat on his bed staring out into space, his eyes glazed over and his mouth hanging open. The rest of The Conspiracy was busy bandying ideas back and forth about what to do next. Finally Ron, hard as it is to believe, became the voice of reason.

“There’s no way around it, mate,” he said. “You have to try the last proposal.”

“I’m not doing it, Ron,” Harry said. “I told you this one was not an option.”

For those of you who joined us late in our epic drama, Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived, has been attempting to propose to my human, Hermione Granger. I say attempting, because after four tries, he has yet to have his feelings known as each attempt has met with miserable failure. Suffice it to say, Hogwarts it still standing, though barely.

It all began when Harry made the grave mistake of asking his closest friend, Ron Weasley, for advice on the best way to propose. Naturally, neither boy had a clue as to what they were doing, so I felt it wise to intervene by showing them a magazine hidden underneath my human’s bed. It was Witch’s Bridal Monthly with an article on the Top Five Magical Proposals of the Ages. So far, Harry has tried four of them and failed.

The final option, to which Ron was alluding to earlier, was Magical Proposal Number Five. This proposal has the wizard singing his wishes to his lady love while accompanied by an entire choir made up of his own voice. While the theory of this proposal is quite impressive, only one problem remains. Harry cannot sing.

“But you’ve got to, mate,” Ron said. “And look, the magazine says there’s a spell you can do to make your voice sound better. And look on the bright side, we won’t be around to mess things up!”

“He’s got a point, there,” Dean piped in.

“Yeah,” Seamus agreed. “What have you got to lose?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Harry said. “Pride? Self respect? The love of my life?”

I tended to agree with Harry.

“Oh, pshaw!” Ron said. “She’ll love it.”

The rest of The Conspiracy agreed. I, on the other hand, had my doubts. However, they continued to pressure Harry until he finally succumbed.

“Okay!” Harry said. “I’ll do it. But what song will I sing?”

“We’ll write one!” Dean said.

“Uhhh . . . no,” Harry replied.

“No, no! That’s a great idea!” Ron exclaimed. “It will be from the heart this way.”

“Ron, between the five of us, we can’t even come up with a good essay for Professor Binns’ class,” Harry said. “And he’s dead!”

I had to admit, Harry had a point. Literary geniuses, these boys were not.

“Nonsense!” Ron said. He quickly grabbed a piece of parchment and a quill, rushed over to the writing desk, and just sat there with a blank expression on his face.

“I know,” Neville spoke up. “Why don’t we get Hermione to help us? She’s good at this sort of thing.”

Four heads turned to stare at Neville. I just shook mine in disgust.

“Oh, right,” he said sheepishly. “I forgot.”

After a few minutes of silent pondering, a look passed over Ron’s face. Whether it was inspiration or constipation, I do not know. Whatever the case, he began scribbling furiously.

“Okay, guys,” he said. “How’s this: Now Heaven bless thy grace this day . . . It’s something my mum used to sing to me.”

“That’s beautiful, Ron,” Harry said. “What’s next?”

“Uh, I don’t know,” he answered. “That’s usually about when I fell asleep.”

Again, I just shook my head. What a senseless waste of human life.

“I know,” Dean spoke up. “How about ‘say all at dear Hogwarts’? After all you need to mention where they met.”

“Perfect!” Ron said, quickly writing it down. “Okay, next line?”

Silence filled the room. Everyone stared at each other, no one coming up with anything. Finally, I decided to do what I do best; nap. No sooner had I started my snooze when Seamus’ shrill Irish voice spoke up.

“For thou art lovely, blithe and gay,” he said. Everyone stared at him in wonder. Who knew that he had the heart of a poet? When he is sober, that is.

“What does ‘blithe’ mean?” Neville chimed in.

“I don’t know, but it sounds good,” Ron said.

“Is she gay?” Dean asked. “I didn’t think she was. But if she is, then why is she going out with Harry? Don’t get me wrong, I’ve had a few fantasies about Lavender and Parvati, but . . .”

Dean was silenced by a well-placed elbow from Seamus. The tall Gryffindor obviously did not see the dark look that crossed over Harry’s face.

The Conspiracy was silent as they tried to think of a rhyme for “Hogwarts”. For the next ten minutes they thought, until Neville cried out, waking several of us from a quiet slumber.

“I’ve got it,” he said. “How about ‘and don’t have stinky farts’?”

Ron, Dean and Seamus nearly fell off their beds laughing. Harry, however, was deadly silent. He glared at his dormmates for long minutes, then slowly reached for his wand. There was a mad scramble for the door as the others beat a hasty retreat.

* * * * *

Later that day, after Harry had a chance to calm down, the boys sequestered themselves in their dormitory determined to come up with the perfect song. Having neglected my human for the past few weeks, I decided to keep her company. She was walking around the common room with me in her arms (I was only allowing her to carry me because it made her feel good, not because I received any joy from it) when she turned to go up the stairs to Harry’s room. I knew this was not the most opportune moment, but there was nothing I could do.

With determination plain on her face, she knocked on the door. The door opened revealing Ron’s red-haired visage.

“May I talk to Harry?” my human asked sweetly.

“No,” he said and closed the door.

My human frowned at the door and knocked again. This time Dean poked his head out. “Yes?” he asked.

“Let me talk to Harry,” my human said.

“Not now, he’s busy,” he replied. Again the door was shut in her face.

Her frown turned into a scowl as she rapped harder upon the door. Seamus answered this time, but took the initiative.

“Hermione!” he exclaimed. “How are you? Would you like to go for a walk?”

“No, I . . .”

“All right, then,” he said and shut the door.

Fury replaced her scowl and my human pounded on the door. Neville timidly answered.

“Hi?”

“Neville,” her patience was clearly worn out. “I want to talk to Harry now!”

My keen cat hearing overheard Ron in the background. “Stall her!”

“Harry?,” Neville asked. “Harry who?” He turned around to face the room. “Is there a Harry here?”

That, apparently, was the proverbial straw that broke the camel’s back. “Harry James Potter! You get out here right now!”

“Ooooh!,” Ron said. “She used all three of your names, mate! She must really be mad! Maybe you had better go talk to her and see what she wants. Try to get rid of her. We’ll be working on the song.”

“Touch that parchment,” I heard Harry say, “and all of you will wind up visiting Madame Pomfrey in the hospital wing.”

A moment later Harry appeared at the door. “Hermione!” he grinned. “How are you, love?”

“Don’t you ‘Hermione’ me! What is going on in there?”

“In where?”

Not a smart answer, I thought.

“Harry!” my human growled.

If humans had machinery in their brains, I would have sworn that I saw Harry’s turning furiously at that moment.

“Okay,” he said. “But you’ve got to promise to keep it a secret.”

This seemed to pacify my human some.

“Neville’s been trying to work up the courage to tell Ginny he likes her. We’re helping him write a letter asking her to go to Hogsmeade with him.”

“Neville likes Ginny?” my human nearly squealed. Harry made a shushing sound and motioned for her to be quiet. “That’s wonderful! But really, you boys know nothing of romance. You need a woman’s touch. I’ll be glad to help you . . .” She reached for the door handle.

“No!” Harry said and grabbed her wrist. She looked at him curiously. “I mean, poor Neville’s a nervous wreck as it is. It would embarrass him to death if he knew I told you. You know how he gets.”

Apparently my human did know, for she let the matter drop.

“Well, I promise I won’t breathe a word if it. I think that’s marvelous! But why don’t you and I go for a walk. There’s something I want to talk to you about. I’m sure the rest won’t mind working on it without you for a while.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Harry muttered under his breath so that I was the only one who heard him.

“I’m sorry, what was that?”

“Nothing,” Harry said quickly. “Hermione, you know I would love nothing more than to go for a walk with you, but I did promise Neville I would help him write this letter. I can’t disappoint the poor boy.”

My human sighed, and Harry quickly added. “I promise you, we will get some time alone soon, and we can talk then.”

“Fine!” she said and stormed off in a huff. I looked over her shoulder and saw Harry leaning against the door, beating the back of his head against it.

* * * * *

The next day my human was still in a tizzy. She spent most of her free time in her dorm room alternately muttering about someone being out to get her and uncaring boyfriends. As much as I wanted to be with Harry to make certain he did not make a mess of things, I felt it wise to spend this time comforting my human. After all, what could possibly go wrong?

It was late in the afternoon when there came a tapping at my human’s dormintory window. Curious, she opened it to find Harry, sitting astride his broom, floating just outside.

“Harry!,” she cried. “What . . .?”

“I’ve got something I want to say to you.” Harry pointed his wand at his throat and uttered two incantations, Singan and Choros. With that, the air was not only filled with his voice, but a whole chorus of Harrys accompanied him as he sang.

“Hermione, my love.

Such beauty from above.

I long to see your face,

With it’s everlasting grace.

My heart you stole from me.

I never want to be set free.

You are always on my mind,

Ever loving, ever kind.

So this I ask of you,

From my heart, you’ll know it’s true.

Make me happy as can be,

Oh . . .”

Whatever he was going to say next, will never be known as at that precise moment, a bludger came out of nowhere and struck him squarely in the noggin. And just where did this bludger come from, you might ask? All I can say is that it wasn’t until much, much later that the answer to that little mystery was found.

Around the same time that Harry was preparing to fly his broom up to his lady love’s window, the Slytherin Quidditch team was headed to the pitch for practice. Never one to pass up an opportunity to humiliate Harry, Draco Malfoy waited until he saw where Harry was going before opening the chest of Quidditch balls and releasing one of the bludgers. Taking a beater’s bat from Goyle, Malfoy sent the bludger in Harry’s direction. So intent on his serenade, Harry never saw the bludger that clipped him on the back of his pate.

Lucky for Harry, my human is a quick thinker. Before he could fall off his broom she snatched her wand, and with a swish and flick, she levitated him through the open window. She gently laid him on the bed and began ministering to Harry’s most recent wound.

“My poor baby,” she said softly as she pressed a wet cloth to the knot forming on the back of Harry’s head. “Crookshanks,” she turned her attention to me for a moment. “This just goes to prove it. Someone is definitely out to get me.”

Despite the situation, I had to laugh inwardly. If only she knew the truth.

Post script: Well, there you have it, dear readers. This is the last of the mishap chapters. The next update will be the last, and I assure you that Harry will get it right. Just what he does, you’ll have to tune in and see!

Also, due to the overwhelming response, I have decided to write the Cho/Hermione battle for Harry’s affection. I don’t know when I’ll get around to it as there are several other stories floating around in my twisted, little mind that I feel the desperate need to write first. However, I promise you faithful few that I will do it. Just keep watching Portkey for it.

In the words of the great Stan Lee, “Excelsior!”.

7. It

Author’s note: This is it, boys and girls. The final chapter. Hopefully it will answer a couple of questions that have been raised earlier.

I want to thank everyone who was patient enough to hang with me until the end. I hope it was worth it.

Disclaimer: The usual applies. Ms. Rowling is the owner of these wonderful characters.

Chapter 7

It’s About Time!

Following the incident with the bludger, Harry spent the night in the hospital wing with a concussion. With her Head Girl duties as well as her studies, my human had not been able to see him since she had levitated him to Madame Pomfrey the day before. As it was, she was now pacing the floor of the Gryffindor common room, anxiously awaiting his arrival. Most of Gryffindor House was present, either studying or engaging in recreational activities. I was there for moral support.

The portrait hole soon opened and Harry entered the common room. My human dashed to his side, threw her arms around him, and pulled him into a tight embrace. He laughed and returned the hug.

“It’s good to see you too, Hermione,” he said.

“Oh, Harry!” she said. “I’ve been so worried!”

“There was nothing to worry about. It was just a glancing blow to the head from a rogue bludger. I’ve suffered much worse before.”

“It’s not just the bludger.” She pulled back and looked into his eyes. “It’s everything that’s been happening these past few weeks.”

Harry extricated himself from her arms and walked over to the fire, glancing at Ron along the way. Ron, in turn looked at Dean and the rest of The Conspiracy, who became immediately interested in the chess game they were playing, the books they were reading, and the crud underneath their fingernails. I tried to whistle and turn my attention elsewhere, but it just came out as a hacking sound and the people around me gave me a disgusted look as if I were coughing up a hairball. I refused to dignify them with a stare.

“Wh-what are you talking about?” Harry asked nervously.

My human quickly crossed the room and began combing the hair from his forehead. She looked at his eyes with a worried expression. “Harry, are you feeling okay? Did the bludger do something to your memory?”

Harry shook his head and I could tell he immediately regretting doing it. He grabbed his head and winced with pain. “No,” he said finally. “I remember. It’s just that I’ve still got a bad headache.”

That seemed to satisfy my human and she continued. “I’m talking about all the strange things that have happened lately. At first, I thought it was a joke, what with the flowers saying that funny message and all. But now I think that was a warning.”

“A warning,” Harry repeated.

“Yes,” she said. “Then there was the bubble, and that awful noise. I didn’t think I would ever get my hearing back! McGonagall said it was days before the ringing finally left her ears.

“And let’s not forget the statue. You remember, you were with me when that happened. The statue came to life and tried to attack us!”

“Hermione, I don’t think . . .”

“I really became suspicious when I found that letter tied to Crookshanks’ collar,” she continued as if he had not said anything. “The fireball that erupted nearly burned down my room! What was even worse is that someone forged your signature to make me think it came from you!”

Harry’s face turned red and he stared into the fire.

“That’s when I knew someone was out to get me,” my human said. “Yesterday only confirmed it.”

“Yesterday?” Harry said.

“Yes. If you hadn’t been outside my window at the time, that bludger could have come through and hit me! You happened to be right in the way!” A puzzled look crossed her soft features. “By the way, what were you doing singing outside my window yesterday?”

Several of the Gryffindor girls snickered at this. Harry shot them a dirty look. He then glanced at Ron, who just shrugged his shoulders. Harry sighed and took my human’s hands in his.

“Hermione,” he began nervously. “Everything that has happened these past few weeks has been because of me.”

“Are you saying that someone is trying to get to you through me?”

“No,” he said. “I mean that I did all of those things.”

“But Harry,” her voice quavered. “Why are you out to get me? Don’t you love me anymore?” She pulled her hands away from his.

I sighed. My human is the most brilliant witch to attend Hogwarts in many years. However, where Harry is concerned, she can be a bit dense.

“No, no, no,” he said hurriedly. “That’s not what I mean at all. I mean, that’s not what was supposed to happened.”

“What are you talking about?”

Harry took a deep breath before answering. “I mean that over the past few weeks, I’ve been trying to tell you something. Only everything I tried has backfired.”

“What have you been trying to tell me? You want to break up with me?”

“No!” Harry cried. “I’ve been trying to tell you how much I love you!”

“By trying to kill me?!”

“No, by trying to propose to you!”

Every eye in the common room was on them now, except Ron’s, who had his head buried in his hands. For her part, my human stood there with a shocked expression on her face.

Harry looked at the floor, before coming to a decision. He reached into his pocket and withdrew a small velvet box. He then knelt down on one knee, took her left hand in his right, and gazed lovingly up at my human.

“Hermione,” he said softly. “I’ve often looked back at my life and everything that has happened to me; and I have to admit, the best thing that ever happened was the day when a bushy-haired, bossy little girl came bursting into my compartment on the Hogwarts Express looking for toad named Trevor. For six years now, you’ve been by my side, through good times and bad. You’re my best friend in the world. You taught me how to love when I really didn’t know what love was.

“Whenever I’ve tried to picture my life without you in it, it has scared me. You are my life. You’re the very air I breathe, and I can’t imagine living a single day without you.”

He let go of her hand and opened the box. Light sparkled off the diamond as he extended the ring to her.

“Hermione Granger,” he continued. “Will you marry me?”

Tears trickled down my human’s cheeks, and she smiled warmly at him. “Yes. Yes! YES!”

Let me say that it was not the fact that there were several squeals by the female members of Gryffindor that caused me to jump three feet in the air, but rather it was the frequency of those squeals that set my cat nerves on edge. Really, the idea of me being startled like that is quite ludicrous!

Grinning from ear to ear and with trembling hands, Harry placed the ring on my human’s finger. He then stood and cupped her face in his hands, brushing the tears from her cheeks with his thumbs.

“I love you,” he said tenderly.

“I love you, too,” she replied and leaned in until their lips met.

After a few moments, when it was obvious that neither was going to come up for air soon, Ron took it upon himself to ensure them a little privacy. Rising from his seat, he quietly went around the common room, shooing everyone to their dormitories amidst much grumbling. The male Gryffindors complained about having to spend their free time in their rooms, while the females wanted to stay and watch the two lovebirds a little longer.

Eventually Ron, with his sister’s help, was able to clear the common room. The two Weasley’s smiled at each other and retreated to their rooms leaving my human and her fiance alone. I, of course, stayed. After all, I wanted to witness the fruits of my labor.

A lack of oxygen forced the couple apart. They gazed into one another’s eyes for a moment before seating themselves on one of the couches.

“It looks like we’ve run everyone off,” Harry said.

“It looks that way,” my human replied. “And not a moment too soon!”

Harry smiled and pulled my human closer to him, wrapping his arms around her. They seemed content to sit there in silence, enjoying the closeness of each other. Not wishing to intrude on their moment, I closed my eyes intending on getting some well deserved sleep. However, my human’s next statement piqued my curiosity.

“Harry?” she said.

“Mmm?”

“Can I ask you something?”

“Certainly, love.”

“Why did you go to all that trouble to propose to me?”

I opened one eye, curious as to how he would answer this.

“Well,” he started. “Ron thought I should try to do something special. He thought that me being who I am, I should propose in a magical way and not the traditional way.”

“But where did you get the ideas from?”

Harry chuckled. “That’s kind of funny. The day I told Ron I wanted to propose, Crookshanks bit him on the hand. Ron picked up this magazine and chased him around the room with it.”

“He did what?!” she said and sat up straight.

“It’s okay!” Harry said and pulled her back to him. “I took the magazine away from him. It turned out to be a copy of Witch’s Bridal Monthly. There was an article about the Top Five Magical Proposals of the Ages. Ron thought we should try those.”

“I had forgotten about that magazine!”

Harry had a puzzled look on his face.

“Parvati had several bridal magazines that she and Lavender kept reading. I asked her if I could have them when they were through. When I finished with them, I stuck them under my bed and forgot about them! I wonder how it got down here?”

She looked over at me, and I quickly closed my eye, feigning sleep.

“I don’t know,” Harry said. “But we tried all five, and you see what results we got.”

“`We’?”

“Umm, yeah. After the bubble attempt, Dean, Neville and Seamus kind of got involved.”

“Oh, no wonder things went wrong!” She playfully slapped him on the chest. “Seriously, though, why didn’t you just do what you did tonight?”

“Because Ron said . . .”

“Well, that was your first mistake right there,” my human interrupted. “What you did tonight was what I’ve always wanted; you pouring your heart out and showing how much you love me.”

“So everything these past few weeks could have been avoided?”

“Exactly.”

“I’m going to kill Ron,” Harry said quietly and my human laughed.

“Why don’t you wait until later? I’m rather enjoying our time alone” she purred (She actually purred! And take it from me, I know a purr when I hear one!).

“Yes, ma’am,” he said and leaned in for a kiss.

Content with the world, I laid my head back down and settled in for my nap. Just as I was about to drift off, I heard Harry’s voice.

“Hermione. I think Crookshanks is smiling again.”

Post script: There you have it kids! Harry and Hermione are on their way to the altar! Thanks for sticking with me throughout all the disasters. I hope it was worth it.

I will be adding a short epilogue in a day or two. It’s just something I wanted to add that I think kind of sums up both “Have a Nice Trip” and “To Lend a Helping Paw”.

8. Epilogue

Author’s note: Thanks for the great reviews on Chapter 7. This epilogue is just a little something I wanted to do to tie the whole story together, although I don’t think it really turned out that way. Anyway, it takes places after approximately five years after the end of Chapter 7. I hope you enjoy it!

Disclaimer: These characters belong to J.K. Rowling. I just like to get them out and play with them for a while.

Epilogue

I was lying in my favorite spot in front of the parlor fireplace at number 12 Grimmauld Place, now known as Potter Manor, reflecting on my life. I must say that, all in all, it had been a good life. Sure, there were ups and downs along the way, but for the past 12 years I have been very content. I have accomplished a lot in my life, and if I were to name my greatest accomplishment, I would have to say it was in helping two wonderful young people get together.

Harry and Hermione Potter (I like to think of them both as my humans now) have been married for five years. Together, they defeated the Dark Lord Voldemort and restored to the wizarding world the peace and tranquility it had formerly known before the dark wizard’s rise to power. Harry went on to become an auror, and one of the best the Ministry of Magic had ever known. Hermione also become an auror, fighting alongside her husband, but after two years had quit. She was now in the process of writing a series of books detailing their adventures at Hogwarts, which they shared with their best friend Ron Weasley.

However, there was a new terror about, a terror that lived with us at Grimmauld Place. The worst part was that they were blind to the fact that the terror even existed. I tried to point it out to them on several occasions, but was immediately shushed for my trouble. Eventually I decided to leave them to their ignorance and take up the mantle of protector myself. If they refused to save the world from this terror, then it was my duty to the wizarding world to do it for them.

Alas, I was not to be successful as the terror overpowered me one day and rendered me helpless. I remember that day vividly. I was at my usual spot in front of the fireplace when I heard footsteps. I had heard these steps many times before and knew they did not belong to either Harry or Hermione. One thought ran through my mind: the terror was coming! In my panic, I froze not knowing what to do. Perhaps if I feigned death, the terror would bypass me and find something else of interest. How wrong I was!

I listened as the terror’s steps drew closer and closer. I could hear its heavy breathing as it came for me. I felt it as it crept within inches of me. Then, it spoke.

“Cwookthankth!” Its high pitched voice mangled my name. I felt its fingers wrap around my tail and give it a tug. I squealed in pain and surprise, and jumped from my spot on the floor. Turning, I lashed out at the terror and swiped its hand with my paw, scratching a small cut in its skin. It wailed in pain. Tears poured from its vivid green eyes and it shook its head with its mass of bushy brown hair.

The cry of the terror drew the attention of my human, and she entered the parlor at a run. Quickly assessing the situation, she immediately drew a conclusion (albeit the wrong one!) and began fussing at me.

“Crookshanks!” she scolded. “I’ve told you before to leave Lilly alone!” She then picked the terror up and held it close.

“There, there,” she said soothingly to the monster. “It’s okay now. Let mummy see.” She looked at the wound I inflicted, and then at me before returning her attentions back to her demon spawn. “You’ll be all right. It’s just a little scratch. He didn’t mean it.”

Yes I did! She pulled my tail!!

“Crookshanks! Come here!”

I had heard my human use that tone of voice many times. Sometimes it was with Harry, sometimes with their spawn, and, on rare occasions, she used it with me. I knew better than to try and run as she had once before put the leg locking curse on me, so I did as she requested.

Sitting down with her hellchild on one knee, she picked me up and set me in her lap.

“It’s long past time the two of you started getting along,” she said. “Crookshanks, I know you’ve been reluctant to accept Lilly as a part of this family.”

I certainly have. She’s evil!

“But this has been going on for over a year now, and it has to stop. No. It’s going to stop, and it’s going to stop now! Do I make myself clear?”

I dropped my head in resignation. There was no arguing with my human once her mind was made up. I had seen Harry try to get her to change her mind many times before, all to no avail.

“Good,” she continued. “Now Crookshanks, I want you to let Lilly pet you.”

I cringed at the thought of those pudgy little fingers in my fur. However, I was left with no alternative.

“Go ahead, Lilly. He won’t hurt you.”

I sat on my human’s lap and watched as the terror’s hand reached toward me. Every fiber in my being screamed for me to run. I think my human sensed this as her grip on me tightened. The tiny hand of her offspring inched closer and closer to me, and I closed my eyes in anticipation of the painful sensation of fur being ripped from my body.

But then, the most amazing thing happened. The demon child was actually gentle. Her touch was soft, much like her mother’s. My human began stroking my fur, and the child followed her lead. Whenever the child would get too rough, her mother would correct her, and they would begin again together. Eventually, the child was petting me on her own.

I allowed myself to get closer to her, and she hugged me. Being the daughter of Harry and Hermione Potter, the child had to have been very magical, for at that moment she put a spell on me. From then on, no matter what this child did to me, it would be all right for what she did, she did in love. I made a silent vow that I would be by her side, the same as I was by her mother’s and, eventually, her father’s. No one was going to mess with my family!

Post script: As I started writing this epilogue, I had a certain idea of how I wanted to go. But like so many other stories and idea I’ve had, it kind of took on a life of its own. I hope you have enjoyed it.