A/N & Disclaimer: No, I don't own it, and I'm writing this because I'm blocked. *sobs* Well, that and I'm waiting for an important message…
Yes, I will finally receive my letter from Hogwarts! I've been waiting for six years now, and even if I would be considered of age in the wizarding world, I will be an adult student.
Le sigh.
Curiosity killed the cat.
or
(The worst day in Ron's life (Ron's POV))
Hermione and I have been living together for over a year now, and she's forced to go jogging. Thus far I've refused, but now I think it might be a good idea. After all, Aurors sometimes need to be fit – don't they? Hell, I didn't know. But it might still be a good idea.
So one day I got up early. It was 5 am, the earliest I've been up in a long while. The room was excessively neat – it had been hard in the beginning, but now it was much easier. Hermione was a need-freak, whereas I was a slob.
I hunted for my sneakers in my oppressively clean closet. I quickly found them and started searching for the socks.
After about fifteen minutes I was ready. Off I went!
Across the park, through an alley, and then I stuck to the driveways. I became aware of something ginger behind me. At first I thought it was my hair, but at second glance I realized it was Crookshanks. I still didn't like that cat, and it seemed the feeling was mutual. He followed me around every corner, and, truth be told, it was getting rather unnerving. This cat was too curious than was necessary.
Finally I decided to head home. Besides the aching pain in my side and the fact that the sneakers were new and I now probably sported many blisters on my feet, the cat behind me was really freaking me out.
As I crossed the street I heard it. Screeching brakes of a car… aloud moan… and then… nothing.
I slowly turned around.
Crookshanks was flattened under a shiny red car. The owner got out and looked in horror at the cat.
"Is it yours?" He asked fearfully. I sighed.
"Yes." I answered after a while, nearing the old cat. He was dead. Unmoving, bloody and no sound escaped him. Dead. "Back up so I can get him."
The owner quickly got into his car and backed off the cat. I grimaced, but picked it up.
"My girlfriend's gonna kill me." I said sadly.
"I'll come with you." He offered. "It's my fault, after all. I'll buy you a new cat."
"I doubt you'll be able to replace Crookshanks. But you'll explain that to Hermione."
At first Hermione didn't believe me, she accused me of catslaughter and I've been planning it for weeks, if not years… I called the owner of the car in to testify. He apologized a dozen times, and offered to buy us a new cat twenty times.
But Hermione was lost.
She'll get over it. Now we'd all lost a pet. I had lost Scabbers, Harry his owl and Hermione her cat. Can't say I'm too sad about it. After all, curiosity killed the cat – but for a while, I was the suspect.
Sorry, I just had to use that last line.
Review? Maybe? No? Whyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy nooooooottttttt? ? ?