After their trip to the bank Hermione visits the magical menagerie, and Waits-the-longest gets a new name and master
(Note: This chapter is from the perspective of a cat! A very clever cat, but a cat all the same. I tried my best to narrate from that perspective while keeping things understandable. That being said, just in case some of the things he describes don't quite make sense or are hard to visualize, I'll have a more generic summary of this chapter in the end notes (but be warned it may contain minor spoilers!))
Kneazles were particularly intelligent animals, and Waits-the-longest was a particularly intelligent kneazle.
He had languished in the menagerie for many many years, actively dodging any and all that attempted to bond with him. He had always felt that he would somehow instinctually know when the right two-leg came along and that it was finally time for him to leave this place with them. When the bell above the door rang and the smell of a predator entered his domain, he had the strangest intuition that this would be the last day of his waiting. It would not have been too terribly unusual an occurrence if it had been the smell of a simple canine or raptor predator. Krups and eagle owls and their like came and went constantly, sometimes being plucked out of their cages and taken home the very same day they had arrived, the poor beasts.
Most of the animals that arrived here didn't have the right to choose their master, instead they were chosen the way one of the fickle two-legs might put on a pair of the arm or leg coverings they used to protect their hairless bodies. It was the curse of being either cute, sweet, or useful. Waits-the-longest thanked the great mother Bast every day that he possessed none of those unfortunate traits. At the end of the day, they served a kneazle poorly. He knew he was an incredibly handsome specimen, but he had heard enough of the boorish little two-legged younglings call him ugly to know that it was his single greatest protection in this place.
Even being mean couldn't protect a kneazle the way being ugly could, and he knew this because he was the meanest one he had ever met. It certainly did help though. His claws were sharp as broken glass and had never once failed to draw blood from hands that foolishly reached for him. His hiss was nearly venomous in its practiced intensity, and was able to stop even the most persistent two-leg child from approaching to try and pet him or, mother Bast forbid, pick him up.
He got most of his regular battle training in with the keepers of the animals who lived here, as he was in a constant state of war with them. They had gotten only more and more desperate to sell him as he had grown meaner and meaner over the years. It was an insult and an indignity that they kept asking for less of their coins for him! He was still worth just as many shiny yellow coins as any other creature here, if not more for how long and devotedly he had endured waiting to find the one he was meant for.
Despite the fact that the smell that entered was heady and dangerous and whispered of incredibly long sharp teeth belonging to a large and dominant pair of predators, something about the scent caught and drew his attention in a way that made his fur stand on end. The bell had barely stopped tinkling over the doorway when he felt a set of eyes on him weighing him down with their intensity, and he froze in place where he sat high on a shelf over the keeper's desk washing himself. Even having the advantage of such an excellent tactical position to observe and remain safe off the ground gave him no measure of comfort.
Waits-the-longest by no means considered himself domesticated in any way shape or form, but whatever had just entered was so untamed it might as well have come straight from the wild.
Two energetic little two-legs zoomed around the store like a whirlwind, seeing and admiring but ultimately dismissing the krups and the kittens and the toads and the rats and the owls. They got excited while looking at the snakes, but didn't choose one of them either. He heard them hissing their two-leg noises to each other quietly, and his ears pricked in interest. He could appreciate a good hiss, even if he had little use for most of their two-leg noises. He knew what a few of them meant, many more than he let on for sure, but day in and day out he ignored most of what he heard. He had never wanted to come across as too intelligent and give the impression that he might be useful.
Crawling on his belly, he crept to the edge of the shelf he was atop and followed them with his eyes. His head stayed rigidly in place to give no indication that he was watching, but he realized a moment too late that his tail swished excitedly and betrayed him. Curses!
The girl two-legs had stopped just a few feet away, and was looking up at him admiringly. Her eyes were a lovely clear grey, and they compelled him to leap down from his safe perch and onto the counter in front of her. The wretched keeper spoke its noises to her, eagerly offering a humiliatingly low price in an effort to sell him, and she ignored him with appropriate disdain. Instead she came closer and lowered herself so that they were nose to nose and eye to eye. Up close her aura was so animal and dominant that it nearly made his eyes water, but there was something in her that called to him. If he was a cat then she was a lion, and he wanted to be a part of her pride.
For the first time in his entire life, Waits-the-longest slowly rolled himself over onto his back and showed her his soft furry belly. The fur markings above her eyes jumped, and her strange mouth curled up around the edges. He didn't need to know all of her noises exactly to understand that she was generously praising him in that moment, and his submission was rewarded with her hairless paw ever so gently resting over his ribs and rubbing wonderfully. He hadn't realized it could be… nice. To be touched. A strange and powerful vibration started in his chest under her hand, and it made a similar noise bubble up out of her. He had heard many other kneazles make this vibration before throughout his life, but he had never made it himself.
The boy two-legs that he realized was her litter-mate came closer, but he held himself deferentially and waited for her instruction. Waits-the-longest heard him make some of their noises and he vaguely understood that they were looking for an animal to give away to another two-legs - no! If they took him from here he would only submit to being hers. He would not be traded away to live with and serve an inferior master. He hissed at the boy, his cruelest and most vicious hiss that promised claws and teeth to follow, and the male appropriately raised his hairless paws and backed away.
The girl two-legs that he so desired to go home with and serve glanced at him appraisingly, and he listened more carefully than ever as she made her two-leg noises at him. Her voice was soft and sweet like milk "You're an awfully clever kitty, aren't you?" she said, and he desperately made the vibrations in his chest again to prove to her that it was true.
Her fur markings rose again and her mouth curled up in what he realized was either happiness or amusement or both. It was a good response though, he had pleased her and he tried to make himself rumble even harder. "What a lovely boy you are, you don't want to go be Ginny's cat do you? Do you want to come home with me and be my cat?" She asked him, and she was the first of the two-legs that had ever taken him opinion of the matter into consideration. That was all he needed to hear, he was hers and he would be until mother Bast called him back home to the eternal desert. He pressed the top of his head into her open hairless paw, and the sensation of her short blunt nails lightly scratching and rubbing there was so soothing he felt like he might melt into a puddle.
She looked at her litter-mate and sighed noisily "We'll have to just pick a kitten for her, this little guy has made it pretty clear how he feels about the matter," she said, and Waits-the-longest yowled for his nephew to come and greet his new master, holding out a faint hope that maybe he would be able to leave here with them as well. She looked at him and hummed in surprise, and a moment later his young protege clumsily leapt on the counter and slowly waddled over next to him.
When Waits-the-longest had been a kitten himself, years and years ago, he had several female litter-mates he had been close with. Though they had all eventually been sold, he had occasionally recognized their scent on litters of kittens that came in. Jumps-and-falls-down was one such kitten, and he recognized a certain innate stubbornness in him that was particularly promising. It reminded him of himself, and he had a feeling that the lad would be waiting for his own master or mistress long after he was gone if he didn't intervene. He'd been training him carefully, and though he was still young his claws and hiss were shaping up to be highly effective. Already he was the last of his litter that remained.
Now though, feeling something unfamiliar but warm and wonderful in his chest, he didn't know that he wanted his nephew to have the same long lonely life here that he had. If he could convince his two-leg to take Jumps-and-falls-down as well, then maybe they'd both get to have a better life outside of this place. Rolling back over to sit up proudly on his hind quarters, he nosed Jumps-and-falls-down forward towards his master and meowed softly at her.
She made the face he'd seen many other two-legs make when they saw a cute little animal. It wasn't that different than the face she had made at him when she'd called him handsome, and he was momentarily stunned. So many two-legs had called him ugly over the years that he had forgotten what it felt like to have his feline beauty acknowledged. "Oh look at him, is this your baby? He looks just like you, you're so darling together!" She said in the same soft voice, and he relished in the tone. He had always hated when the two-leg females would make their noises at him and the other animals in those strange high breathy voices.
"Well we can't get him and just leave his son behind," his girl told her litter mate, and the boy two-legs nodded obediently and reached out tentatively to pick his nephew up and hold him. Both kneazles tensed, but his hairless paws were stronger and more stable than they looked. He didn't lift Jumps-and-falls-down by his forelegs or under his ribs like he'd seen other over-excited two-leg younglings foolishly try to do, but scooped him up with one paw under his bum and the other around his torso. If one couldn't lift a kitten by the scruff that was an excellent alternative option, and the boy two-legs earned some of his respect.
He looked at his girl and saw her holding her arms out patiently and looking at him softly, and it was strange to see such gentleness in those clear grey eyes that screamed predator. It was unclear to him if she was testing his faith or offering an opportunity to prove her own trustworthiness. Either way, he wanted both of them to know. He already felt like he could trust her implicitly, and his every feline instinct was unhappy about that and told him he should be suspicious and wary. For the first time in his long life so far he felt the urge to hiss and yowl at his own distrustful nature, to ignore entirely what his instincts were screaming at him.
After only a moment of hesitation he leapt into her outstretched arms, and she effortlessly caught and carried him.
His tail swished proudly when she insisted on paying full price for him despite the keeper practically trying to give him away for free. She passed the shiny yellow coins into his greedy paws, and he told her the hated name he had been called his whole life. Waits-the-longest's ears flattened unhappily against his head, and he prayed to the great mother Bast that his girl would know better than to call him such an ill fitting name. Her fur markings scrunched together and the corners of her mouth turned downwards "You've been calling him what? Gingersnap? Nah that's terrible… he looks like more of a Crookshanks to me," she said like a little queen.
Waits-the-longest pondered the name his girl had given him. It was very fitting. He decided that he liked it. And after twelve long years of languishing in the menagerie, watching youngling two-leggeds come and go, enduring their noises and their wandering hands, bearing the indignity of a name he did not care for and the tension of keepers he would rather scratch and bite at, he left in her arms a new cat.
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His girl brought him and his nephew to a place that was warm and smelled of good food. The house was full of normal two-leggeds that had orange fur like his and that carried not a whiff of the sharp predator scent that lingered around his girl and her litter mate. An adult female two-legs cooed over his nephew and petted him gently, and his girl allowed the female to hold and inspect the kitten.
He paid close attention to the noises they made "I wanted Ginny to have a pet so she doesn't feel alone while we're all off at school without her. Is it alright? It didn't occur to me until I got here that I probably should have asked first, I'm sorry Molly," his girl said, and though he didn't understand all of her noises he realized she was deferring to the older female.
She reached out and petted his girl's face kindly, and he knew from very recent experience just how nice that felt. She must be pleased with them. He made the rumbles in his chest in approval. His girl pulled him up out of the wicker basket she'd carried him here in, and presented him to the female "And and and! Look who I met while I was there, Molly! I wasn't expecting to get a pet for myself, but I couldn't bring myself to leave without him. Every other cat I've met my entire life wouldn't come within ten feet of me, the poor things have always been scared out of their minds. He must be very brave," she said with pride in her voice, and his tail swished at her praise.
He looked over the table and saw the female holding his nephew tenderly in her arms, one of her paws rubbing his ear. She seemed to come to some sort of agreement with his girl, and suddenly she made her two-leg noises very loudly "GINNY, COME DOWNSTAIRS PLEASE, DEAR!" She called, and he heard a thundering clatter of footsteps from the ceiling above grow closer and closer. Suddenly a girl two-legs that he realized was the female's daughter came barreling into the room.
"Nene, what are you doing here?" She asked his girl happily, "And is that what I think it is?" she added excitedly, pointing at his little nephew in her mother's arms and bouncing up and down. She rushed up to the table where they sat but stayed back a few feet, waiting for permission to touch, her paws fluttering at the height of her shoulders as if desperate to reach out. He approved of her restraint, and he meowed at her. Her eyes swung around to take him in and she breathed in noisily "Oh she's absolutely gorgeous! Is it a mother and her baby?" She asked, and he hissed gently at her. He was not a female! She recoiled from him, but only slightly. She was a brave one, and he could easily see himself tolerating her presence in the future if she kept this behavior up.
"I thought it was his baby too, but the shopkeeper at the menagerie said it's from one of his siblings' litters. So I guess that makes it his nephew actually. It came right to him when he called for it in the shop, it was the most curious and precious thing. Anyways, it's for you Gin - surprise! I know you have your mum and dad, but I thought you might need a buddy now that you're at home without any of your brothers here to keep you company. Do you like him?" His girl asked the other little two-leg. He scarcely moved or breathed, realizing that this was the one he had almost been a gift for and suddenly eager to hear the girl's assessment of his young protege.
Her mouth hung open wide, showing off her many rows of tiny blunt teeth that could harm no one. How embarrassing for her, he'd have kept his mouth closed if he had teeth like that. But the sides of her mouth were making the up-curls that he was coming to realize meant a two-leg was pleased. She breathed heavily "Really? A kitten of my own? I can keep him, mum?" She said, turning to her mother with her fur markings raised high on her face.
The older female nodded her head "I don't see why not. You've always been such a good girl my Ginny Bean, and your cousin is right that a pet would do you well. You'll feed and clean after him yourself though, am I understood?" She said, her voice going from soft to almost barking like a krup. There were complex two-leg concepts and pride dynamics at play that were beyond him, but he gathered that the girl would be allowed to keep his nephew and be his master.
From where he rested comfortably in his girl's arms he looked over at Jumps-and-falls-down being handed gently from mother to daughter, and wondered if they'd ever see each other again after today. He meowed and kneaded at his girl's arm with his front paws to let her know he wished to be put down, and she set him on the tabletop. He stepped lightly across its worn surface over to stand near the other girl, and she froze in place before greeting him "Hello kitty, do you want your baby back? You'll get to see him again, I promise. Hermione and I are family, we wouldn't keep you apart for anything," she said, and he was warmed by the meaning behind her noises.
Just as he and his sister's son were a part of the same pride, these two-legs were part of the same pride as his girl and her litter mate. He wouldn't have to say goodbye to his nephew after all! He meowed happily in relief, and pressed his head against her arm that held the kitten. Jumps-and-falls-down was still a bit too young to really understand what was going on other than that he'd been chosen by a two-leg, but at his meow he looked over the side of her arm and chirruped down at him questioningly. He reared back on his hind legs, his front paws pressed against the girl's belly, and leaned down over her arm to wash his nephew's face.
"Awww, Nene wook the kitties wuv each uvva!" The girl cooed in a high voice, and he was desperately thankful she hadn't become his master. He had already endured a lifetime of those awful obnoxious noises, and he was glad to have been chosen by such a sensible two-legs that he knew was above them. Jumps-and-falls-down was drawn in by the sound and entranced by it, the silly little fool. Nurture could only do so much, and he had done his best with the lad.
"Have you got any idea what you'd like to call him? He's so little you've probably got a while before you have to decide. They had a name for this guy but it didn't seem like a good fit, so I've been calling him Crookshanks," his girl said, reaching out to softly stroke her paw down his spine. He arched his back up to meet her touch and relished the warmth of it. "I think he likes it, or I hope he does anyways," she added, and he turned back to face her and meowed at her meaningfully. He loved his name, and even if he had only thought it was acceptable it was still infinitely better than Gingersnap.
"He really is quite a clever cat!" The older female said, and his tail swished proudly "He must be at least half kneazle to be able to keep track of what you're talking about like that. Goodness me, a clever cat for a clever little lady," she said, praising both himself and his girl. He was starting to really like this one. He sat back down on the table and turned to her and meowed, and she reached out her paw and held it several inches away from his face.
He wasn't sure exactly what the point of this was, but he'd seen enough people do it in the place he'd been before to know something was expected of him. He'd never let anyone get close enough to perform this strange ritual. Hoping he didn't disappoint, he leaned forward and sniffed at her hairless paw with its long wiggly toes. She turned it upside down so he could see the underside, and he sniffed that as well. It was a paw? It smelled of the house she lived in and the girl and several other two-leg males. She had touched meat and vegetables recently. She was clean and warm.
Deciding to be brave, as his girl clearly trusted this female, he rested his chin lightly on the bottom of her paw that she had left suspended in front of his face. It seemed the only rational course of action available to him. She almost certainly didn't want him to bite or scratch her, the two-legs generally seemed to quite dislike that. At the last moment he panicked and froze, what if she had wanted him to bite? Perhaps to test the strength and sharpness of his teeth and determine how well he would be able to protect his girl? She was clearly his master's matriarch, he should have considered the possibility that she might wish for him to prove himself. Curses!
"It's okay Crooksie, Molly just wants to be friends," his brilliant girl said softly in her milk sweet voice, calming him instantly, and he relaxed his neck and let his chin rest fully in the female's paw. She made a noise in her throat much like his chest rumbles, and he felt confident that he'd pleased her with his display of trust. Not wanting to push his luck he quickly retreated back into his girl's arms, curling up in them and tucking his head in close to his body and making himself small. His young master generously rewarded his incredible bravery and obedience with gentle comforting strokes of her large warm paw down his spine.
"He'll make an excellent familiar for you, my dear. That's a strong bond if ever I've seen one. I'd bet anything he came to you in the shop didn't he? Sometimes the right match just makes itself," the older female told his girl, and though he had been trying to make himself disappear from her sight and mind, he couldn't help but rumble with pride and swish his tail at her high praise. He knew it already of course, but it was nice to hear other two-legs acknowledge.
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Jumps-and-falls-down was still being held by his new little master, basking in her adoration and bonding with her as was appropriate. Crookshanks had long since been let down onto the ground of the strange house to make himself comfortable, and was taking it upon himself to explore the surrounding area. There were scents of many two-legs, all offspring of the older female. She must have borne many litters, and he was glad to have earned such an important matriarch's favor.
There was a room where the surfaces were all hard and cold and echoey, and within it there were traces of food everywhere. Old dried edible plants hung in bundles by a window, an entire small room full of good fresh things that had grown outside, a shelf where lots of little jars held things that burned his nose but that he'd recognized from the breath of other two-legs. He didn't know how they ate those things without killing themselves. There was meat in the room somewhere, and he could smell it but frustratingly he couldn't seem to find it.
There was also a much softer room, with pillows and blankets and good plush floors to walk on and large squishy objects where he could tell many of the two-legs often sat. There was a fascinating hard stone cave built into the wall of the soft room, and pieces of wood sat propped up inside of it. He'd been inspecting it closely earlier when it had suddenly come to life, hot and green, and one of the male orange-furred two-legs had come out of it! His tail had been stepped on and he'd hissed and scratched at the two-leg's ankles viciously before running away and hiding. He'd been so frightened that he'd shamefully yowled desperately for his master, and it had taken her ages to coax him to come down from the high shelf he'd retreated to.
It had been humiliating.
Now though he was staunchly pretending it had never happened, casually continuing his investigation. Having seen everything interesting that there was to be seen, he made his way towards the set of stairs he'd noticed earlier and slunk up them curiously. Each one was nearly his height and it was a bit of a climb, but he was no slouch. They seemed to go up and up and up forever, flattening out to another level here and there with rooms that smelled like more of the two-legs lived and slept within. He easily found the room the girl two-leg slept in, her scent distinct from all the others. There was nothing of particular interest within, and after having a good sniff and a peek around he moved on.
There was a room that smelled strongly of the matriarch and her mate that he respectfully avoided. He wanted no trouble from her, he had earned her favor fair and square and wasn't going to risk losing it.
Closest to that was a room that smelled of the two-leg who had so cruelly stepped on his tail. He was delighted to find that the door had been left open a crack, and he nosed his way in and gleefully pissed all over the soft place where the male slept. Ha! Revenge! Take that, heavy-pawed demon!
Passing a room that smelled like a much younger male two-leg, he realized that some of the good food smells from the room below were in there as well. This door was shut, though. He sat in front of it for a few moments, considering his options. He had seen two-legs open doors, it didn't look hard. They just put their paws on the sticky-outie bits, and did something to make them click. If a two-leg could do it he was certain he could as well. The door's sticky-outie bit was well above his head, but he was an excellent jumper. He leapt up, batting his paw at the silvery thing. It rattled! The entire thing creaked and swung open. He could scarcely believe his luck, it must not have really been closed all the way!
Darting in, he looked around eagerly to find where the food might be. It was a mess, and the smell of unwashed young male was potent. All over the floor were piles of upper and lower leg-coverings. There was a large open space on the floor underneath the soft area where the two-leg slept, and there were lots of things crammed into it. Crinkly things that scrunched when he stepped on them, a few of the yucky nuts that owls foolishly ate were scattered here and there, even some of the heavy hard things he'd seen his girl pick up and look at were under this two-leg's sleeping space. Finally his nose led him to the part of the room where most of the better-smelling coverings were put away in a collection of holes in a big wooden box.
He'd seen the hated keeper of the place he'd been before pull holes like these open to put things in and take things out. He realized then that the sticky-outie bit on the outside of the box must work like the bit on the door had, and could likely be used to get into the holes. One of them was already open and the little cave it held within was extended out of it, hanging in the air like a shelf for him to leap up onto and easily make his way to the top of the box. Looking down from up so high, he was able to see out the window and outside, and the sight took his breath away.
When he had still been Waits-the-longest, he'd heard of trees and grass and thought they must have been the fantasy of a mad cat's imagination. Soft green things to walk on? In the outdoors? He'd seen the outdoors through the window at the place he'd been before, it was hard and grey and brown and lots of two-legs walked by and sometimes came inside and looked around and left with animals. He'd let himself be convinced that there was nothing soft or inviting or good about the world outside of the place he'd been.
…But then again, his girl had come from outside hadn't she?
Now he could see with his own eyes that the ancient old kneazle who had once whispered to him about green things had been telling the truth. Though he'd never said it to him, it had to have been clear that Waits-the-longest hadn't believed a thing he'd tried to tell him. The poor old cat had gone back to Mother Bast's eternal desert knowing that the only other feline around worth talking to considered him nothing more than a liar or a fool.
Crookshanks looked out the window and dug his claws into the wooden box he stood on, longing to know what the green things felt like under his paws and on his belly. He wanted to run on it and roll in it and scratch at dig at it for the things that lived and burrowed beneath. Beneath? The only surfaces he'd ever walked on had been solid, but somehow he knew that the green outside the window had things living not only on it and in it, but under it. That it was bursting with life. Things that crawled and wriggled and scuttled and hopped. Things for him to smell and chase and eat. A thousand things. A thousand thousand.
He was sure of it.
The food the boy two-legs had hidden away like a little thief was long forgotten. He didn't want to risk falling trying to get the hole open, and it smelled like it had long gone bad anyways. Plus, he didn't want to make himself sick eating something that was rotten or moldy - even if he could still eat it, it might not taste as good anymore. The only good thing that could have been said about the keeper from the place before was that he had occasionally, extremely begrudgingly, given him bites of his rich and delicious two-leg food, which was infinitely better than the dry hard bland pellets the cats and kneazles were given to eat. It was also worse when it went bad. Pellets just became stale over time. He knew from experience scrounging through the keeper's old forgotten lunch bags that when two-leg food spoiled it did so it frightening and gruesome ways.
Crookshanks stood at the top of the stairs outside of the messy two-leg boy's room, just about to launch himself back down them and try to find a way outside so he could get a taste of the green for himself, when he smelled something wrong.
It was so wrong it set his fur on end, and he felt his back arch up involuntarily. His mouth fell open of its own accord, his lips pulled back and ready to spit and hiss at the first visible sign of trouble. His claws schinked out of the ends of his soft little toes and dug into the wood of the floor he stood on, ready to reach out and tear at whatever was here in the hall with him.
He had known creatures like this existed, even seen them the twice or maybe three times in his life that they'd come into the place he'd been. They had always sent the animals into complete chaos and disarray when they walked through the door, smelling of animal but walking on two-legs. This thing before him was the perfect inverse - an animal that did not smell like an animal.
A rat whose eyes gleamed with the cruel cunning and complexity of a two-leg. Whose paws held a piece of cracker the way they wielded objects in their dexterous long-toed paws. Who stood and walked towards him upright on its hind legs like a rat had never once before in the history of rat-kind walked or moved. Who looked at him like it would not chitter or squeak, but rather open its mouth and their two-leg noises would come forth from it.
It was like a thing from a nightmare.
With fear in him from the tip of his nose to the ends of his tail, but courage flickering into an inferno in his breast, he sprung forward and caught the vile creature by the tail. Knowing nothing more than that it was wrong and should not exist and was a danger - A danger! - to his girl, he sunk his teeth into its legs, lifted it into the air, and shook his head faster than the eye could perceive. Like a whip cracking, he heard it's spine break midway down its back. It let loose an awful screaming wail, still alive and suffering terribly, but he refused to feel guilt for his botched kill.
This was exactly what he had been chosen for, to protect his master and her house. To guard her secrets and assist her in her spellcrafting in whatever arcane ways she required. If he had only had the blood of a cat he might have been forced to choose between serving one purpose or the other, but as a kneazle he was more than magically strong enough to fulfill both roles. This den of two-legs were clearly a part of her pride, and therefore his duty extended here to them as well. An interloper had been in their midst, and he had apprehended it. He would deliver it to the matriarch, and she would know what to do with it.
He didn't want to pick it up again with his mouth, so he batted it down the stairs with his paws. He took great delight in the way it bounced down each step, rolling and tumbling and wailing all the way. As he finally reached the ground floor again he bristled to hear an awful lot of loud and upset sounding two-leg noises coming from the room where he'd last seen his master. He had only left her alone for a short while, how could she have gotten into trouble already? He hoped she hadn't displeased the matriarch in his absence.
Dragging the creature along with him by its tail, he approached his girl and checked that she was in the same condition he'd left her in. He reared back onto his hind legs, holding himself upright with his forelegs pressed against one of her long legs, and meowed softly to get her attention. She turned her head to look at him, and her mouth and fur markings did a funny wiggle on her face when she saw his captive on the floor.
"What a fine hunter you are Crooks! Good job, you clever kitty. Make sure you kill it all the way next time though darling, it's cruel to let them suffer like that for long," she said kindly. He basked in her praise, and the way she gave it so freely and generously. She reached down her hairless paw with its long toes and rubbed the top of his head sweetly before grabbing the foul creature and pointing to a spot higher up on its spine "See Crooksie, you've got to break it here or it might not die right away," she instructed patiently, and he nodded along, captivated.
Then before he could blink she snapped its neck and the life instantly left its body "Now that's how you kill a rat, my darling!"
"Holy shit Nene did you just break that rat's neck? Wow, that's so gross! Where did you even get it? Did your cat catch it? Quick Bill banish it before it gives us all the plague," the other two-leg girl cried, and he realized he'd forgotten his purpose of presenting it to the matriarch to inspect its potentially dark nature. But then again that probably wasn't necessary now that it was dead. This was most likely for the best. He meowed again to be picked up, and his girl quickly complied.
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Summary:
In the first section, Crookshanks describes waiting a long time in the pet shop for the right master to come along. This is pretty self explanatory I think. He notices and chooses Hermione right away, realizes she's looking for a pet for a gift for someone else, and has a kitty temper tantrum. She decides to buy him for herself and get a kitten as well, and he takes that as an opportunity to get his little nephew adopted lol
In the second section, Hermione brings Crookshanks and his nephew to the burrow to give Ginny a kitten as a companion so she'd not lonely since she's the last cousin home alone out of school. Molly approves of the gift, and she thinks Crooks is a clever cat.
In the third section Crookshanks is set down to explore on his own while Ginny plays with her new kitten. He's near the fireplace when the floo ignites and Bill comes through and accidentally steps on his tail, scaring him and making him bite his ankles and go hide up high. She goes up the stairs to check out the Weasley's bedrooms. He ignores Molly's and Ginny's, and pees on Bill's bed. He smells food in Ron's room so he manages to get the door open and goes in there to sniff around. He climbs a dresser (chest of drawers?) that has a drawer hanging open and stands on top of it looking outside at the greenery of the orchard. As he's about to go back downstairs he encounters a creature that frightens him and he tries to kill it. He brings it back to where the people are in the hopes that one of them will do something about it but Hermione sees it and thinks he just had trouble killing it so she helps him put it out of its misery.
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Side note: For those of you who have been thinking about pettigrew and what's going to happen with him - don't worry about it! This is officially the very rare but entirely genuine author guarantee that he's 100% not a part of this story beyond beefing it here lol the_evil_is_defeated.jpeg
Also you're fully allowed to imagine whatever makes the most sense to you as the impetus for why the weasleys wouldn't be upset by scabbers getting killed. Maybe Peter was especially pathetic in this au and just lived in their walls or hung out in the attic with the ghoul instead of being a child's pet. Or maybe they were getting suspicious that he was such a long lived rat and faked his death a few years ago! I don't know and I don't care I for real hate his character lmao