Not What It Seems

[ineedmymods]

For h311ybean
From erised1810

Title: Not What It Seems
Fandom: Harry Potter
Rating: PG-13
Author's Notes:A tiny intermezzo from the point of view of a slightly flabbergasted Crookshanks. Now that I have read a few chapter snippets to refresh my memory, I'd like to thank you for making me wish to reread the whole book again, yay!

Also, thanks again to the moderators for running this thing so smoothly.


Stupid. Stupid, stupid stupid! Both of them, completely lost it, haven't they? Him blundering about and showing off as if the way he snuggles up to that Lavender Brown is something new and exciting that no-one else has ever done or seen before, and she with those birds. What was that good for? I should probably admire her for that. Who gets the idea to conjure those tiny twittering things out of thin air and then set them on someone else? I have been waiting for something like this to prove how we fit together.

If I could actually talk, or change into a human form like that wonderful dog could...but no, I'm curled up at the foot of her bed, or somewhere in an armchair (that's until those two land into it and nearly flatten me), or waiting behind a suit of armour for my chance to finally teach that Mrs Norris or Peeves a lesson or two. They are both friends of Potter. They should be there with him, not just apart from each other, but together. That's worked wonders until now, how can something silly like this get in the way? Now that there's hardly anyone else to hold on to, now that we've lost that black dog, she's diving into books to see if there's something in there that might end the war. He's giving himself a crash course on how to become an actual boy. If I could speak, I could whisper things now and then, little reminders of what they're here for, what they should do. There was Dumbledore's Army for one, and the whole shebang after that, the nonsense with that new minister, all those deaths, and Harry Potter, Harry Potter, always Harry Potter. If I could say something for real, I would ask them what they remember from last year? That brain attacking him, that weird spell that almost cut her in two. It's not just the ghosts and the portraits who hear things? There are also the house elves, and the owls. They're scared of cats, but they won't mind you nicking a dead mouse or two if you have some good news from downstairs.

So here I am in a windowsill in the common room, right next to a forgotten ink bottle and a forgotten piece of parchment. I could ask that little furball, or puffskein or whatever it's called, for some kind of help, but that one will not even come near a window. Probably scared of the snow on the other side, thinking it might seep through.

There you have it, Weasley and Brown, they're reading Witch Weekly together. A boy reading a magazine for women. It's the last thing you would expect from any boy, let alone from him.

"Oh look, the Holyhead Harpies!"

"Oh good, they're playing this Saturday, we could get posters next time we go to Hogsmeade."

Oh, an all-female Quidditch team, that's everythign he likes rolled into one. Someone should find a way to make it end here, or he'll find out they're in the Daily Prophet and then promptly subscribe.

Aha, he's searching for his horoscope for this week. Never paid attention in class, always nodding off when Hermione reads something from a school book and now he wants to know everything about his birth sign.

There are a million reasons for him to be a bit more grateful for having a friend like Hermione, a million reasons for not taking it all for granted. I tried to get rid of that pet rat of his for one. We know how quickly he turned around once he found out it was a poser instead of a real animal. Ron and Hermione, They've worked together for months to help Harry Potter out, perhaps even tried to solve stuff before he would. And something as silly as a kiss gets in the way of this friendship? How can we get that out of their thick heads?

Oh what does it matter, I will show them I'm not a common crumpled cat. I'm not as clever as McGonagall here, or any of Mrs Figg's pet kneazles for that matter, but I'm still a half-kneazle, I notice just as much as anyone else, perhaps even more. So I'll dip my tail into that ink, and I'll show off for once. Look how I found out how to read and write. Clever Crookshanks can do a lot more than just catch a mouse.

No, we shall not take this snippet to the owlery, no matter how many good mice I could find there. This is a waste of time for owls, they have more important correspondence to deliver these days.

Here we are, right in front of the portrait hole and a good thing the fat lady is chatting to that friend of hers.

"Ooh Violet, I nearly forgot, Professor Slughorn is hosting a Christmas party."

"Ah, yes, for his little club of students. I heard he's invited musicians, and some of his friends."

"I actually heard someon say he invited a vampire..."

"What? At Hogwarts? That will never be allowed-"

"Don't panic, it's not the truth until it's really happened. Shall we see if it's real then?"

Yes by all means go over there, both of you. You are lucky to be portraits in fact, you won't have to be invited. A Christmas party then, for his club of students. Fantastic, even more ways to ruin the harmony in this house.

Oof, that means Hermione will not be here either. She'll be at that party of course, along with Harry Potter, and Weasley will be hiding somewhere with that girl of his and their horoscopes, ridiculous! Well, she'll find me in my favourite corner when she climbs into bed tonight.

What shall that blundering Weasley boy do tonight? Will his girlfriend actually come back here or follow him up to his four-poster? Ach! There's something he'll find on his bed-side table for one. A small scrap of parchment with a nice anonymous note: 'she is not Hermione."

Ha!

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