Loginquitas
distance, remoteness, isolation
Crookshanks thinks on Ancient Egypt, biting customers, and his Companions distant eyes.
In Ancient Egypt, cats were worshipped. They have never forgotten this. Thus, they spend their nine lives seeking the Companion who treats them with the respect they deserve. Unlike some unworthy species, Crookshanks sniffed disgustedly, eyeing the salivating dog leaping at a woman. That he himself could not be considered a true member of the Cat was carefully put aside and dutifully ignored.
Stretching regally, Crookshanks looked over at his Companion fondly and –
Snorted.
Out of all the careers offered to the young heroine, she chose to own a bookshop. Crookshanks could not understand such a choice. She earned barely enough to feed herself, never mind buy those things that a normal woman most needed. Frivolous things. Chocolates, pretty hairpins, lacy knickers. Womanly things.
"Welcome to The Bookshop. Please ask if you need any help," Hermione rattled off, tone calm and friendly. Crookshanks twitched a whisker. She seemed happy. But then, his Companion had developed a frustrating knack for hiding her most inner emotions.
Loneliness, for instance.
The customer disappeared behind a stack of books without a word, but Hermione didn't seem to mind. Her eyes had drifted again, and Crookshanks was reminded quite disturbingly of that Lovegood child. The one who used to talk to him quite naturally, as if she believed he could hear her. As if he was human. Even Hermione had never reached that stage in their Companionship.
Making a disquieted sound beneath his whiskers, Crookshanks climbed clumsily onto her desk and settled himself in front of his Companion. The girl's otherworldly gaze didn't waver, but one gentle hand rested in his fur. What are you doing, my girl? he asked her. Stop being so silly and come back to earth. Unfortunately, Hermione didn't answer him, and neither did she hear him. This was an everyday ritual, which succeeded in doing nothing but remind him that he needed to lose some weight if he insisted on climbing that dratted desk.
"Get off of there, you mangy rat," the customer growled, books in hand as he approached the desk. Crookshanks glanced at him imperially. I think I will bite you, he told him. The man stared at Hermione, and something like recognition alighted in his expression. Crookshanks narrowed his eyes suspiciously as the man proceeded to poke her arm. On second thoughts, I believe I will relieve myself on your head. Please bow down obediently.
"Maybe I should leave without paying," the customer muttered wickedly. "Would serve her right for dozing off on the job."
Crookshanks hissed, amused when the man jumped and Hermione blinked.
"Welcome to The Bookshop. Please ask if you need any help."
There was a pause in which customer and assistant stared at each other, and Crookshanks thought, I think I love you, my girl. What a way to scare him off!
"Hello, Granger. Nice little place you got here," the man said. The scorn was immediately obvious. Crookshanks looked at his Companion, preparing for the proud moment in which her sharp tongue would whip the man into shape. However, he could only watch in horror as red flooded her cheeks.
Hermione, girl, what on earth are you doing! he cried, unnoticed.
The man grinned.
"No need to be embarrassed, Granger. Its just a filthy place for a filthy person."
"I'm not embarrassed," Hermione replied, red still tingeing her skin. Oh, my girl, I taught you better than this, Crookshanks moaned. "I just think you're cute."
Crookshanks blinked, pausing half-moan. Pardon? he asked, bewildered. My Hermione, finding a man cute? Is this…some elaborate scheme to cut him down? He glanced at his Companion. Oh, please tell me this is a new tactic to cut him down. You are better than this buffoon!
The customer seemed to be thinking along the same lines.
"Excuse me?" he spluttered, grey eyes wide. Hermione cocked her head to the side, obviously enjoying this.
"I think you're cute," she repeated. Crookshanks looked between them, confused, but found something dawning on him. Her eyes…
"Don't you know who I am?" the man demanded, furiously.
"Of course," she said.
Her eyes were no longer distant. They were focusing wholly on the man in front of her. Focusing with a light he remembered. He looked at her in wonder. Hermione, girl, you've come down to earth again…good! Now quickly snap out of this bewildering phase and get rid of this oaf!
Unfortunately, the oaf seemed to be quite enraptured with Hermione, and she didn't seem to want to let him go anytime soon.
"Granger, have you been hit with any hexes lately?" the man asked warily. Hermione smiled.
"No," she said. "I simply find you cute. Would you like to pay for those?"
The man stared, disorientated, before following her finger to the book under his arm. It seemed to take him a moment to regain his sense of dignity.
"I was actually going to walk out with them," he sneered, eyes narrowing with the utmost disdain. Crookshanks hissed, pleased when the man jumped. Again. Hermione raised an eyebrow, amused, and ran her fingers down his back. He purred in contentment, his eyes glinting wickedly at the uncomfortable man. Just you wait, he thought, never wavering in his threatening glare. I will relieve myself on your head and I'll bite you. I have some very nasty diseases holidaying in my mouth. I will have fun giving them to you.
"As long as you take me out on a date," Hermione said. Her mouth quirked. The man gawped.
"What!"
For once you have it right, oaf, Crookshanks muttered. Hermione…What!
"Take me out on a date, and you can walk out without paying for those," she reiterated, amusement lacing her voice. The man seemed to be having trouble breathing, and that familiar recognition in his eyes began to distort. Crookshanks reluctantly agreed with him. Hermione had changed. But he had seen flashes of this girl before, shorts breaks as she joked with the ScarBoy and the Rat. The distance in her gaze had been triggered by the War but…the War also freed her. Made her direct. Instant. Take the moment.
Obviously, the man had never come upon this side to his Companion.
"As long as I get to fuck you at the end," the man retorted. Crookshanks bit him. Hermione chuckled ashe cursed colourfully and tried to swipe at the fat animal. Crookshanks sniffed haughtily and sat heavily next to his Companion. "Stupid animal," the man muttered, glaring at him.
Hermione reached out and touched the man's cheek. He went still.
"Yes, I will fuck you," she replied, solemn. "Fast and hard, slow and soft, false professions of love or silent and passionate." She leant forward, desk pressing into her stomach, and breathed against his lips, "I'm not waiting anymore."
Her eyes never left his. He seemed caught in the brown orbs. Crookshanks looked between them, and sulked. My girl, out of all the men in your life, why did you pick him? he grumbled. Draco bloody Malfoy. He looked at the man. Well, I hope you're happy. You let her ensnare you, you immense oaf. Hermione's eyes were firm, no longer distant. She had a task now, and she was throwing herself fully into it, it seemed. Crookshanks twitched a whisker. Now I can't bite you again!
For Heath, who loves humour and fluff and smut and hates angst. I worked really hard to make this semi angst-free. Enjoy!