Disclaimer: Just so you know, it's not mine. Any of it.
Very early one morning, whilst most students in the Gryffindor house were still sleeping behind the drapes of their four poster beds, a furry brown cat came down the girl's staircase.
She encircled a few chairs, sniffed some pillows, and came to rest at the end of the lumpy scarlet couch in front of the fire place. She gently nuzzled the socked feet that hung over the armrest, purring a loud melody. Looking around for any intruders, she jumped up onto the couch. She walked the length of the red pillows stopping by the mess of black hair buried in a large gold trimmed pillow.
Anyone who didn't know better would swear the cat was smiling, or at least looking like she would if she were human. She licked the boy's nose lightly with the tip of her rough, pink tongue. His eyes lightly fluttered before he sank deeper into the couch. She took hold of the arm of his glasses with her small teeth, pulling them from the crooked position on the boy's face. Lightly dropping them by the end of the couch, she looked satisfied with her work.
The boy rolled over, slightly pushing the cat toward the edge of her resting post. Her ears perked, not daring to move as the boy continued to squirm under the blanket. He was moaning, low and desperate. Sweat was forming on his brow as his eyes squeezed shut. He was in pain. The cat settled lightly in his arms, letting him reach for her wild brown fur for comfort. Her eyes were glassy, and one would be sure she would be crying, if cats could cry.
A little while later the boy settled, still gently stroking the cats fur in his sleep. She moved slowly away from his welcome touch, licking his nose once more before jumping to the worn carpet. After another check of the room and of the boy, the cat headed up the girl's stairs.
Later that morning, the same boy sat at the Gryffindor table for a late breakfast before he was to go to Potions. He pushed eggs around his plate as the red-headed boy next to him ate everything he could reach.
"Eat up, Harry," he said. But the boy continued to stare at his plate.
"I had another dream." The bushy haired girl across from the two boys looked up from the thick book leaning on the milk jug.
"Oh, Harry," her voice was low and sad.
"It's ok," he sat up straighter, then lower his voice. "I was ok. There was this… cat, there. It just made me feel better, you know? Like, I knew it."
The boy who had been eating non stop sat down his half of blueberry muffin.
"But there are no other cats in Gryffindor tower besides Crookshanks. And you know he'd just as soon claw your nose off than look at you."
"Please, Ron," the girl sighed. "He is really not that bad. He's very loyal. It very well could have been him with Harry."
"But it wasn't," the boy interjected. "It was a girl cat. Her hair was kinda curly, and brown."
No one seemed to notice the color drain from the girl's face.
"Maybe you dreamed it," the other boy said as he stuffed the rest of his muffin into his mouth.
"No, it was real. She took off my glasses, and licked me. Took care of me."
"Well, we may never know. But we're going to be late to class, so I suggest you come along." The girl stood with her huge bag of books hanging off one shoulder.
"Yeah. We're coming, Hermione."
As she stood, the boy noticed a small feline foot print on the back of her cloak. But when he went to wipe it off, he noticed it was too small to belong to the large orange cat that chased mice around the school.
"You've got a cat print on your cloak," he said, catching up to her fast pace.
"Huh," she glanced at the spot. "Imagine that."