To Lend a Helping Paw by 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!




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.