A Day with Nagini and Voldemort
Crookshanks stretched lazily, his fur gleaming in the dim light of the hidden chamber. He was nestled comfortably next to Nagini, who was curled into a tight coil, her head resting serenely on her tail. A far cry from the chaos of the Triwizard Tournament, but today, he would allow himself a moment of peace.
Nagini was a delight to be around. She understood the finer things in life—quiet, subtlety, and not constantly chasing after humans. Unlike the others, she didn’t demand attention. Instead, she gave Crookshanks the space he needed, respecting his independence. And, if he was honest, her company was far less irritating than most of the humans he’d been forced to tolerate lately.
It was early morning, and Voldemort was still in one of his long meetings with his followers. Crookshanks, uninterested in any of their plans, had spent the last hour lounging near Nagini. Voldemort’s voice echoed faintly through the stone walls of the cavern, but Crookshanks paid little attention. There were far more pressing matters, like the way Nagini’s scales glistened and the soft hissing sounds she made when she was content.
Occasionally, Crookshanks would shift his gaze to Voldemort’s imposing figure, but only out of mild curiosity. The Dark Lord’s presence didn’t bother him—he was an arrogant, dramatic figure, certainly, but Crookshanks had learned long ago that most beings of power weren’t all that impressive when you stopped trying to understand their grandiose ambitions.
“You’re a curious one,” Nagini hissed in a low, amused tone as Crookshanks flicked his tail, watching Voldemort’s movements carefully. “So much freedom in your actions. I can’t understand why you still tolerate those humans.”
Crookshanks made a noise that could have been a sigh or perhaps a purr—who could tell with such a complicated creature? Humans are nothing but unpredictable, he thought. But they provided a steady stream of food and attention when they chose to. That was enough for Crookshanks. For now.
“You’re wise beyond your years,” Crookshanks finally said, though not without a touch of sarcasm. “Though I must admit, your methods are a bit much. The constant lurking, the speeches…” He rolled over lazily. “But I suppose I’m lucky you’re not forcing me to take part in whatever plans you two are concocting.”
Nagini chuckled softly, and the sound was like the rustling of dry leaves. “I do not force. I offer comfort. And in return, you can observe. No obligations—just watch.”
Crookshanks flicked his ear in acknowledgment. “Fair enough.”
Voldemort’s followers, those death eaters, seemed to be in a particularly delightful mood that day. Crookshanks had never quite understood their infatuation with power, but the Dark Lord’s minions had a peculiar energy about them. Nagini, too, seemed bored by their antics, her body stretching languidly across the cold stone floor, unfazed by the “important discussions” taking place just yards away.
Crookshanks, with his sharp eyes and ears, kept an eye on the goings-on, but really, he was more interested in observing the quiet companionship of Nagini. Unlike the humans, Nagini didn’t bother him with meaningless chatter. There were no endless questions about his thoughts or his well-being—just silence and mutual understanding.
Meanwhile, in another part of the castle, Hermione was having her own thoughts.
“Hermione, have you seen Crookshanks?” Ron asked, looking up from his own reading, concern in his eyes.
Hermione frowned slightly, tapping her chin. "Not recently. But you know how cats are. He probably wandered off again." She glanced around the common room, as if expecting him to appear with his usual air of self-satisfaction.
But something about the day felt off to her. The mood in the castle had shifted with Cedric’s death, and she couldn’t shake the feeling of unease that lingered in the air. Harry had barely spoken all morning, and the weight of the past few days hung heavy over them all.
“I hope he’s not up to something again,” Hermione muttered, pushing aside her worries about Crookshanks for a moment. “But knowing him, he’s probably just causing trouble.”
Ron grinned, though there was a hint of unease in his expression. “Maybe he’s just off hunting something.”
“Maybe.” Hermione sighed, running a hand through her hair. “But I’ll worry about it later. I have to focus on supporting Harry. He needs us right now.”
She stood, her thoughts turning back to the darker matters at hand. Cedric’s death had shaken everything, and Harry’s mood had soured even further since that moment in the graveyard. She couldn’t leave him alone—not now, not after everything that had happened.
Crookshanks, meanwhile, continued to live a life that was, in many ways, far less complicated. The quiet slither of Nagini's movements beside him was far more comforting than the looming shadows of the human world.
Let them worry about their little problems, Crookshanks thought as he stretched out again, enjoying the warmth of the stone and the peace of the moment. I have better things to do than dealing with their trivialities.
Still, as the hours passed, a flicker of doubt briefly crossed his mind. Perhaps it was time to return to the castle. Perhaps he’d receive the attention he deserved now that his adventures with Nagini had been indulged. But for now, he was content.
Tomorrow, Hermione would probably call for him. And maybe, just maybe, she would remember the true genius that was her brilliant, magnificent cat. Or maybe—he grinned to himself—he would just stay gone for a little longer.
For now, though, Crookshanks lay beside Nagini, comfortable and undisturbed, letting the human world sort itself out without his involvement.