A/N: Back when I was...man, maybe thirteen? I participated in a thread in an online Harry Potter message board called ThinkPotter, and there was a thread called "If these things could speak" where we did short POV peices from various objects and animals in the Harry Potter world. Well, I was looking over these last night, and I found two: one I did for Crookshanks, and one I did for the Time Turner. I was rather fond of both of them, so I took them and cleaned them up. So here's a very short little vignette about what it's like to be Crookshanks, and unable to tell that stupid* Ron Weasley his rat is evil. :p
*No, you KNOW I don't think Ron is stupid, but trust me, Crookshanks does.
If These Things Could Speak: Crookshanks
I leap lightly into my girl's warm and welcoming lap and devour my prey. I hear a noise of disgust from the red haired boy and also a bit of fear. He does not like the animal I have caught. I glare at him, daring him to try to hurt me. I know he dislikes me and he likes the deceitful animal. Idiot.
The girl croons at me. She is praising me for my valiant defeat of the disgusting eight legged creature, I think.
And then I smell it. I smell the deceit, the lies, the hatred, the cowardice. It is hick as smoke and just as putrid. It is coming from a bundle of cloth. It does not love the stupid boy as the stupid boy loves it. It does not love anyone. It is too hateful, too cowardly to love. It is a disgusting creature, horrible and tainted. When I kill it, I will not even bother to eat it. It will not be tasty like the other sumptuous, wriggling creatures of its kind. It is not one of them, though it pretends to be. It has merely taken their form. It is something darker, more dangerous, some great evil in a small body. I will kill it, and I will not eat it, for I am sure it will not taste like a squeaker. I will leave it to rot. I will take not pleasure in killing it, like I did the eight legged creature. It is just something that must be done.
I know it. I must kill it or it will hurt me. It will hurt me, my girl, the stupid boy and the green eyed boy. And I admit I care for my girl, possibly the boys too, even the red head, though he is an idiot to love the horrible thing so.
I must go. I must act.
NOW! I pounce on the cloth, tying to tear through. I must reduce this false squeaker to a bloody pulp so it will never rise again. Anger and adrenaline rush through me. This time I will succeed…
The boy yells and holds the cloth, but I hang on, clinging. He will not get between me and my mission this time!! He spins the cloth and my claws hurt badly. I feel as if they are being pulled from my body.
My girl makes a noise of fear. The filthy creature scampers out of the cloth and I free myself from it, rushing after him..
The idiot boy lets out a hunting cry and one of his kin make a lunge for me, but I am too quick. All I am focused on is the false squeaker. I must catch it. I must end its miserable life and its threat to me and my pride with a claw through it's hard. I must peel its flesh off and bury it in a dark corner where none will ever see it again.
But, Alas! It escaped under a block of wood, hiding like the coward it is. I still don't give up, I put my paw under the table to swipe at it, but it has crawled too far back. My girl rushes over and grabs me, hugging me to her chest. The red haired boy grabs the wretched creature by its tail and it wriggles like a serpent. He shouts insults at me, the stupid boy. My girl tries to defend me, but she is near tears.
The green eyed boy watches blankly, not knowing the danger he is in. The stupid boy, he is defending the false squeaker, but I am too filled with frustration and hatred to care. I nearly got him! But he wriggled away from me at the last minute once again.
I struggle to get at him again, but it is hopeless. More meaningless noise comes out of the idiot boy's mouth and the deceitful thing laughs at me. The idiot boy stalks away, leaving me with bitter defeat and my girl full of sadness.
