"I'm going to kill that bloody cat!"

"You will do no such thing, Charlie Weasley!" Hermione Granger yelled from the sitting room. She put down her book and hurried down the hallway to stop her boyfriend from doing something stupid.

Charlie was standing in the cramped little wash room of their flat, glaring down at the one of baskets, where a content Crookshanks lay snoring on a pile of fresh laundry.

"I turned my back for one second to close the dryer, and suddenly there he is!" Charlie complained, his voice sounding more than a little whiny. "This is the third time this month!"

Hermione rolled her eyes and picked up her cat, hugging the orange beast to her chest. In his place were clumps of fur, clinging to Charlie's clean clothes.

"I just washed those!" Charlie wailed.

"He's a cat Charlie, he doesn't know any better."

"That is not a normal cat, Hermione," Charlie insisted, his eyes narrowing as he glared accusingly at Crookshanks. "He's got some sort of vendetta against me, I just know it."

"He's a cat," Hermione said again, her patience growing thin. "Just rewash the clothes Charlie." She started to head back to the sitting room, and her book.

"It's not about the laundry; it's about that pig with fur!" Charlie shot back weakly. Hermione didn't even bother with a response.

xXxXxXxXx

It had been a few weeks since Charlie's mild melt down. He had thought that he had taken all the necessary precautions. He waited until Crookshanks was either down for the count and napping on the bed (the next habit on the list to kick) or nestled in Hermione's lap before he pulled his clothes out of the dryer. And yet no matter what, the evil creature managed to get its ginger fur everywhere.

Hermione found the whole thing extremely amusing.

This day, though, this day was different. This day was too important to let that cat ruin his clothes again. He was taking Hermione out to dinner at her favorite Muggle restaurant for Valentine's Day, and everything, including his fancy Muggle suit, had to be perfect.

That's why Charlie found himself bored out of his mind (and with a rather sore bum) as he sat on top of the dryer, staring fixatedly at the doorway. The job was tedious, and it made his eyes water, but Charlie refused to look away.

Charlie had finished his laundry about two hours ago. It was folded to perfection and spotless in the basket at his feet.

He was waiting for that cat. He refused to turn away from the clothes for a second, he refused to look away. He figured it wouldn't be long before the disfigured animal gave in to temptation and sought him out for an annual dose of Charlie-torture.

Dragons liked him better than this ruddy creature did.

Charlie sighed, wishing he had thought to bring the wireless along for entertainment. There was probably a Quidditch match going on somewhere that he could listen to. He was contemplating getting up to grab it, but one glance at the clothes at his feet had him glaring at the doorway again.

Suddenly he jumped to his feet, lunging at the laundry room entrance. He took a moment to catch his breath, his landing having knocked the air out of him, and stood up, clutching Hermione's so-called cat to himself. Crookshanks stubby little legs wiggled like he was still trying to walk towards the basket.

"Not today, you don't," Charlie said gleefully, feeling rather victorious.

"Charlie, are you alright? It sounded like you – Charles Weasley! You still haven't gotten dressed? Our reservation is in half and hour!"

Hermione was standing in the doorway, he hands resting on her hips. Her hair was pulled up in an elegant bun, a few girls hanging on the side of her face. She was decked out in a short black dress and silver heels. Her face, though perfectly made up, was cross.

"I was protecting my clothes! There's only so many times you can wash an Italian suit before it's ruined, Hermione!"

Hermione rolled her eyes and took her cat from her boyfriend. "Honestly Charlie, sometimes I wonder if Ginny took after you, rather than your mother. Now go get dressed, I'll put Crookshanks in the spare bedroom so you can protect your precious suit."

She walked off, laughing under her breath, and Charlie sighed, wondering if he was ever going to win.

Hermione's head popped back into view, and she was smiling brightly. "And happy Valentine's Day, love."

Then again, maybe he already won.

And there you have it. I'm not completely pleased with it, but hopefully you all enjoyed the quirky little read. This was written for the Twin Exchange February Challenge. My prompt was cat and laundry, my quote was "Not today, you don't" and of course, my theme was Valentine's Day.

This could be looked at as a sequel to Little Hermione Granger, though I didn't plan it that way. Leave me a review with your thoughts, and I wouldn't say no to a vote ;D

For those wondering, there will be a new He Noticed Her chapter up by Monday at the latest. Promise.