CHAPTER IV: A Present for Ron

A.N. Chapter Four has arrived! Yes, I'm extremely lacking in self-discipline, and really the only reason I updated was because a CERTAIN SOMEONE (coughs and looks in Yavie Aelinel's direction) swore she would burn all the Harry Potter books in the world if I didn't. And really, what's life without Harry Potter? All right, I'll be quiet now so you can read.

More than two months had passed since Hermione's discussion with Mr. Durnham, and she had almost forgotten about the Kneazle kittens. Crookshanks was being his normal self, chasing rats and hissing at Ron whatever chance he got.

One stormy Saturday afternoon, Harry and Ron were playing a game of wizard's chess in the Gryffindor common room. Hermione was in an overstuffed armchair nearby, whispering advice to both boys over their shoulders.

"Ha, checkmate!" Harry grinned.

"Oh please, you cheated when I was talking to Hermione!" Ron laughed. This was exactly what Harry had done, but he wasn't about to admit that. Suddenly, Hermione jumped up from her armchair and peered out the window.

"Look!" she cried. A screech owl was zooming toward the open window, a letter tied to its foot. It perched on the back of a nearby chair and extended its leg to Hermione. She ripped open the letter and scanned its contents.

"Ooh, the kittens are here!" she squealed.

"Joy," Ron mumbled under his breath.

"Mr. Durnham says Precious had five of them… and he's willing to keep two, but the other three are mine! And they're able to be away from their mother now. Ooh, this is so exciting!"

"What are you gonna do with them?" Harry asked Hermione.

"Well, I suppose I'll keep them. Three extra cats will be quite a lot of work, but I can't just abandon them, can I? Unless… do either of you know anyone interested in having them?"

Harry and Ron didn't, so Hermione continued.

"Anyway, Mr. Durnham wants to meet me in the Three Broomsticks again this coming weekend so I can pick the kittens I want. Would you two like to come along?"

"Sure," said Harry.

"Hermione, I love five little Crookshanks clones as much as the next guy, but I'm planning to have lots of homework that day." Ron grinned.

"Suit yourself," Hermione replied.

Saturday would not come fast enough for Hermione. When she wasn't doing homework, she was imagining (aloud, to Harry and Ron) what they would look like.

"Do you think they'll look like Crookshanks? Or what if they look like Precious? Mr. Durnham said she's got gray striped fur, ooh that would be so adorable! Oh, what will I do about the extra food? Do you suppose they can catch rats with Crookshanks? Or are they still too young? And I've heard kittens like to claw at things… oh my, the common room will be a disaster."

But Saturday did come, and as it was a Hogsmeade weekend for the rest of Hogwarts as well, Ron walked with Hermione and Harry down to the Three Broomsticks. He was planning to meet Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas there to play Gobstones.

"I'm so excited!" Hermione sang. Considering she had been repeating this phrase for the past seven days, Ron and Harry had begun to tune her out. At last they reached the pub, and as Hermione pushed open the oak doors she glimpsed Fogglebrook Durnham sitting at a table, a large wicker basket at his feet.

"I'll see you guys later," Ron said. Seamus and Dean were waving him over to a nearby table. Harry and Hermione walked over to Mr. Durnham and sat down at his table.

"Hello Miss Granger, Mr. Potter," he greeted them.

"How did you know ---?" Harry cut his question short, however; he'd been stupid to assume that Mr. Durnham didn't know him.

Fogglebrook shook their hands, and then reached for the basket. "Now, Miss Granger, I'm sure you're excited to see what these kittens look like…" he pushed some of the blankets aside, revealing five mewing kittens. Three of them were orange and fluffy like Crookshanks, and two appeared to have inherited Precious' striped coat. Hermione was particularly entranced by one of the striped ones, the only one to have Crookshanks' squashed face.

"Oh, they're lovely," Hermione breathed. Harry was entertaining himself watching one of the orange ones attempt to reach Mr. Durnham's cup of coffee.

"Now as I said in my letter, I only want two of the kittens to keep at my farm. The remaining three are yours to keep. Which ones would you like?"

"Oh, it's difficult to decide… but I think I'll take that one," she pointed to the striped one with the squished face. "And both of those orange ones." Hermione gestured to two of the Crookshanks clones.

"Very good choices," replied Mr. Durnham. "They're all yours. Write to me in a few weeks and tell me how they're doing, won't you?"

"Oh I will, Mr. Durnham. Thank you so much for all you've done, and I'm sorry Crookshanks was so much trouble."

"Not to worry Miss Granger, I got two kittens out of the whole ordeal, didn't I?" Mr. Durnham smiled. "I'll be waiting for your owl." With that, he collected his basket and strode out the door.

"Oh Harry, they're lovely!" Hermione squealed. "Here, can you carry this striped one back to the castle? I can't carry all of them by myself."

"Yeah," Harry answered. The striped kitten batted at the sleeve of his robes and gave a contented mew.

"Ron looks pretty busy with his game, so let's go," Hermione stood up with some difficulty, as she had one kitten under each arm. Harry pushed open the oak doors, and he and Hermione stepped out into the sunlight.

Later that afternoon, Hermione and Harry were talking in the common room. Hermione had managed to find owners for two of Crookshanks' kittens (Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil, who were both delighted to receive the orange balls of fluff), but the striped kitten remained on her lap. Crookshanks sat faithfully at Hermione's side, for once in his life not being spastic.

"Have you thought about who you're going to give him to?" Harry motioned toward the kitten.

"Well I suppose I'll keep him if no one wants him," Hermione said sadly. "Unless…"

"What?" Harry asked, curious.

"Oh, nothing," Hermione responded. "But I think I've just thought of an owner for this little guy…"

Just then, Ron climbed through the portrait hole.

"What's up?" he asked. Suddenly he noticed the kitten on Hermione's lap. "Is that one of the kittens? It's kind of cute… I mean I didn't say that, It's…" Ron's ears turned a violent shade of maroon as he struggled to finish his sentence.

"Well I'm glad you like him, because he's yours." Hermione deposited the striped ball of fur in Ron's arms.

"Wha..?"

Harry snorted as he fought back a laugh. "What're you gonna name him, Ron?"

"Uh, I dunno… what about Squash? I mean that face isn't exactly structured…"

Just then Squash climbed up Ron's robes to lick his nose.

"Oh, he likes you!" Hermione announced so loudly that a group of nearby third-years looked over their shoulders and snickered.

"Yeah. As long as he doesn't turn out like that ruddy father of his, I'm satisfied."

Hermione smiled at him and stroked Crookshanks.

The Easter holidays were quickly approaching, and everyone was paying less and less attention to lessons as the days went by.

The Hogwarts Express pulled up for its routine trip back to Kings Cross, and this year Hermione was boarding it.

"I've decided to spend Easter with my parents," she explained to Harry and Ron. "I know they were fighting over the Christmas holidays, but maybe they've resolved their problems now. Anyway, I'll see you both in two weeks. Happy Easter!"

"Happy Easter, Hermione," Harry said.

"Yeah, Happy Easter, Herm." (this earned Ron a grin from Harry)

Hermione stepped through the wall between Platforms 9 and 10 and glimpsed her parents a few feet away.

"Hi sweetheart!" her mother engulfed her in a hug. "How's school? Oh, your father and I have missed you. And how are Ron and Harry?"

"School's wonderful and Harry and Ron are fine," answered Hermione.

"Hey Herm!" Hermione's dad called. "So glad you could come back for Easter."

"Hi Daddy," Hermione reached up to kiss her dad. "Um… Mum, Dad, I've been meaning to ask you something since Christmas."

"Sure, honey," her mother smoothed her hair. "What is it?"

"Well I heard you and dad having a row in the kitchen on Christmas Eve, and it scared me and I was worried you were going to split up."

"Oh, Hermione!" her dad cried, surprised at her. "Your mom and I weren't mad at eachother. We were discussing the potential dangers of using novocaine on small children. I'm sorry we scared you like that."

"You know that you can come and talk to us about anything that's bothering you," Mrs. Granger told her daughter. "Now, why don't you tell us about school some more while we walk to the car."

"Well, Crookshanks is a dad now."

"WHAT!"

Hermione laughed.

A.N. Yay, the story's done! A beam of light comes down through the clouds to my computer, and angels start singing I suppose you were making bets with eachother that I'd be twenty-five before it was finished. Anyway, more HP stories are coming soon. I just can't say what they're about because I haven't a clue. Thanks for reading, and don't forget to review! Sirhith