A/N: The humour is subtler in this one. I witnessed a cat giving birth to four kittens today, two of them of ginger colour. So I couldn't bring myself in the same mood as the previous chapters.

A warm hug and many thanks to everyone who has taken the time to review.

Enjoy, and let me know what you think.

CHAPTER 13: Man to Cat.

Gingerhead stared at Snape through his orange, ageless eyes. This human was not a complete failure as it had seemed at first.

"Interesting," he said after a short silence. "You are certainly more resourceful than I had accredited you for," he added and licked his front leg. That damned humidity of this dungeon keeps curling my fur, he thought, annoyed.

Naturally, Snape had no idea of what went through the cat's mind. He just sneered. "Thank you, your Grace, for your kind words," he spat, his voice dripping venomous sarcasm. "Now, if you could please get the hell out of my dungeon and my life, I would be most thankful."

Gingerhead rolled onto his side and began licking his huge belly. "I am afraid I cannot do that. At least not yet, until Peeves' deadline in two nights time." Great Cat Mother, I smell like a house elf! Got to clean this fur, got to clean this fur.

Snape scowled. "What deadline?"

The cat looked up, thinking that the human was, after all, rather slow. "I lost a bet with Peeves a week ago. My penalty was to spend a week in your company," he explained.

"What kind of bet?"

Gingerhead looked rather embarrassed. "Oh, well, I might as well tell you. Better hear it from me than Peeves, I guess. I claimed I could eat ten times my weight. Peeves said that I couldn't." He paused, as if reliving a happy moment. "Much to my shame, I ate only two hundred and seventy pounds of tuna and chicken." He sighed. "Just ten pounds sort of winning the bet."

Snape raised an eyebrow, obviously impressed. "Well, if it's of any consolation, I too would have betted in your favor. Especially after having watched you dine," he added with a smirk.

The cat's face lit up. "Thank you. It was a pity to lose, considering I excelled at the rehearsal that same morning. Not one drumstick left," he added with a proud twitch of his tail.

The Potions Master overcame his surprise quickly. "Now that this is made clear, explain to me what do I have to do to rid myself of your company?"

Gingerhead blinked. "Why?"

Snape grinned. "Because you are the most self-centered, vain, obnoxious and greedy creature I've ever came across."

There was a moment of heavy silence. "I am not vain."

He rolled his eyes. "Please. Even Lockhart is not as vain, cat."

Gingerhead stood up, studying his face. "I could have sworn that you do not like me," he muttered.

"Like you? I'd rather hug the boy-that-lived in public and tell him what a great godfather he has than spend another minute in your presence."

The cat stared at him, having no idea of what the human was talking about, but pretended to fully understand his words. In any case, it was clear they were meant as an insult. "You don't like me."

"Correct."

"You do not like me."

Snape folded his arms across his chest. "Is there a point in this?"

"How can you not like me?" I do not understand, he thought, confused. He has the honor of being my servant and he throws it away? Why?

"My whole body is covered by scratches, to start with."

"You shouldn't have kicked me or step on my tail. You kick, I claw." Perhaps he mistakes me for a dog.

"My robes are covered by cat fur."

"Pure cat fur, if you please. Water proof and an excellent coat for the cold winter nights." Not to mention the sign of a faithful servant.

"You soiled my bedroom and bathroom."

"You should have summoned me a litterbox." How thick can he be?

"And what about the incident in my classroom? Remember that catnip party?"

"Fine, I am an addict. Help me, not judge me." And, incidentally, is there any catnip left?

"What about Fawkes? And the Sorting Hat?"

"I'm a predator. Cats hunt birds. As for the hat, it refused to sort me into my House."

Snape stared at the cat, surprised. "You were sorted into Slytherin?"

"Scheming, manipulative and hungry. That's what the Hat said about me," replied the cat, cocking his huge head haughtily.

There was a moment of silence. The Potion's Master was obviously contemplating of the times he had heard the same adjectives describing himself. Save for hungry, that is. "And what about harassing the other teachers? Have you any idea how much trouble you have caused me?"

"It was not my fault," Gingerhead protested, rolling on his belly, cute as a killer whale. "I am just an innocent cat." Let's see if it works. Blast. It didn't.

"Merlin's ass, innocent. The Dark Lord pales in comparison."

"Who?"

Snape rolled his eyes. "Never mind."

"Anyway, about that Lockhart guy, I only did what you requested, remember?"

"Fine, I'll give you as much. But what you did to Professor McGonagall was inexcusable."

Gingerhead blinked. Then something of a sneer dawned inside his huge orange eyes. "Please. Just because you are on a diet, this doesn't mean everyone else must starve. I have to continue my bloodline. I only followed my instincts, as you have personally noted during the staff meeting." And once I have enough heirs, I will proceed with my plans for World Domination.

The Potions Master gazed at the cat thoughtfully. "You have an excuse for everything, do you not?"

"After seven lives, I'd better," he replied proudly. And perhaps you can learn something from socializing with your superior, human.

"Is there any way I can persuade you in behaving yourself for the remaining of this penalty of yours?"

The cat licked his whiskers. "Explain 'behave'."

"No scratching or clawing, for one thing."

"As long as there is no kicking or stepping on my tail, I suppose I can do that," he agreed.

"No more shedding on my clothes."

Gingerhead rolled his eyes. "Please. How do you expect me to accomplish this? You might as well ask me not to breathe." Great. Me and my big mouth. Good one, kitty.

Snape bared his teeth. "Razorblades and shaving potions come in mind."

The cat rose, almost arching his back. "Just try this. I dare you."

There was a moment of uneasy silence. Then Snape relaxed a bit. "Fine. Just don't shed on my clothes."

Gingerhead relaxed as well and scratched his ear, sending a thin mist of cat fur flying. "I'll try, this is all I can say."

"Is there the slightest chance you will not destroy the rest of my dungeon?" The sarcasm in his voice could make a whole classroom burst in tears.

The cat licked his privates. "Is there the slightest chance I will have my meals served in time?"

Snape sat down on his armchair, fatigue clouding his stern face. "This is hopeless," he muttered. "The moment you disappear from my life will be a blessed one."

Gingerhead gazed at him, puzzled. He still doesn't like me. And this was more than his ego could tolerate. He jumped off the bed and the once black robes he had been sitting on. He trotted to the seated professor and leaped on his knees, purring.

"Come on, Snivellus. It wasn't always bad," he said as he rubbed his head against the human's clasped hands.

The Potions Master scowled. "Do not call me that. Never," he warned him.

"Fine. What should I call you then?"

"I suppose that 'master' would be too much to ask, right?" The cat shook his head. "Then I guess that 'professor' will do, he replied wearily.

Gingerhead rubbed his head again against his hands. "Supper?"

Snape laughed. "After raiding the kitchens? No, I don't think so."

"As if you haven't fantasized about kicking a house elf occasionally," mumbled the cat, displeased.

"Truth be told, I have. But the Headmaster will be beside himself when he hears of this."

"Feed me and I will talk them out of going into strike."

He raised an eyebrow. "And how will you do this?"

Gingerhead's eyes glowed. "By claw and fang, of course."

"If you can do this, you can as well persuade them in feeding you, as a price of your ...protection against all harm," Snape suggested.

The cat almost gasped. Why haven't I thought of that myself? Then he curled himself on the human's knees, purring. "I might do that. And you were surprised that I was sorted into your House," he purred.

Snape looked at the cat for one, long moment. Then, reluctantly, he reached out and stroked the cat's head, which in turn closed his eyes blissfully. "Perhaps..." But he never spoke the words out loud.

The cat stared back at him. "Yes, perhaps..." Perhaps you and I could be friends. In another life and another place, but, again...

But the moment came to pass.

"So, when will you be leaving?"

Gingerhead licked his paw. "Sometime this Monday. I do not like snakes." Especially that big one that's crawling your way.

Snape blinked, confused. But he had given up the attempts to understand feline logic.

"And," continued the cat, "since I'll be staying that much, is there anyone in particular you have a grunge on?"

Severus Snape, present Potions Master and former Death Eater, bared his teeth in a vicious smile. "As a matter of fact, cat, I do."

Gingerhead purred louder, feeling the human's hand stroking his back.

This will be fun.