The Cat's Reluctant Return.
The night had been long, but Crookshanks was finally tired of it. He had spent several days lounging at Nagini’s lair, enjoying the quiet of her company. It was, in some strange way, exactly what he needed. Nagini was... well, she was different from the usual humans. Less chatter, more subtle, calculating silence. And besides, they both understood the art of the perfect nap.
The last few days had been peaceful: no bothersome students, no frantic searching for rat-friends, and certainly no Harry Potter drama. This was the life.
But alas, as much as Crookshanks appreciated the comforts of Nagini’s lair, the time had come to return. The summer holidays were on the horizon, and he had promised Hermione, sort of, that he would at least show up before the end of the term. She had a tendency to worry when he wasn’t around, and as annoying as it was to admit, he couldn’t leave her to deal with all that nonsense alone.
Nagini watched him, her eyes gleaming with that amused glint she always had. "You’re leaving? How disappointing," she purred, coiling lazily around a nearby rock. "You could stay longer, you know."
Crookshanks gave a disdainful flick of his tail. "I don’t have time for sentiment. I’m not staying here to discuss philosophical musings with a snake."
Nagini hissed in amusement but said no more, watching him turn and head back towards Hogwarts. Crookshanks did not look back as he made his way to the entrance of the Forbidden Forest, only allowing himself a brief flicker of doubt as he took one last glance at his temporary home. He would return, of course. One day. When it suited him.
Hogwarts was as loud and bustling as ever when Crookshanks finally returned, much to his displeasure. The corridors were filled with the typical cacophony of student voices, the irritating clatter of broomsticks and magical artifacts, and the ever-present whiff of poor decisions made by underclassmen. Crookshanks, of course, had been through it all before.
He padded silently through the hallways, his fluffy tail swishing in annoyance. He was not interested in any of this nonsense. He had been in a much more peaceful environment recently. Nagini got it. Why couldn’t Hermione?
When Crookshanks finally slid into the Gryffindor common room, Hermione was sitting by the fire, flipping through a book and absentmindedly scribbling notes. As expected, she didn’t notice him immediately. Crookshanks took his time, making sure to climb into a nearby armchair before he let out a soft, unmistakable meow.
Hermione looked up, her face lighting up in recognition. "Oh, there you are," she said, sounding both relieved and mildly exasperated. "I knew you were just wandering around, silly cat."
Crookshanks froze.
Silly cat?
He narrowed his eyes. The audacity. He had been off having grand adventures, avoiding the madness of Hogwarts, and this human—his so-called “Chosen Human”—dared to call him “silly”? That infuriatingly affectionate tone was enough to make his fur stand on end. He had just spent the last few days in the company of a giant snake and a dark wizard, and all Hermione could say was "silly cat"?
He couldn’t even muster up the energy for a proper hiss. Instead, he stalked over to her, tail flicking aggressively as he climbed onto the arm of her chair.
He gave her a pointed, disapproving stare, as if to say, I have better things to do than be called "silly".
Hermione, oblivious to his seething rage, simply reached down to scratch him behind the ears. “I knew you’d come back eventually. You always wander off, don’t you? You really do have a mind of your own.”
Crookshanks's whiskers twitched in irritation. Always wander off? I was in the presence of a snake of unspeakable power, and you call that wandering off?
The betrayal stung like a thousand paper cuts. His pride—his magnificent, cat-like pride—was wounded.
He did not respond, of course. Instead, he casually plopped himself into her lap with all the grace and dignity of a cat who had just endured the most grueling of adventures.
But, in a small, quiet corner of his mind, a part of him acknowledged something strange. Maybe... just maybe... he had missed her, too. Though he’d never admit it aloud, and certainly not in front of her, he had missed the feel of her hands brushing through his fur. The attention. But the silly cat comment? That was unforgivable.
Hermione gave him a smile, oblivious to the silent storm brewing inside him. "I’m glad you’re back. I missed you. You’ve been so strange lately, though."
Crookshanks closed his eyes, hoping that if he just ignored her long enough, she might let him nap in peace.
But then—because the universe had no sense of fairness—she started talking again. "It’s so odd, though. You've been gone for days, and now you show up just when things are getting complicated. You have impeccable timing, Crookshanks."
Crookshanks grumbled softly. Impeccable timing? It’s called being a genius. Some of us just know when things are about to go horribly wrong.
But no, he just yawned, stretching his paws out with a deliberate slowness. He had better things to do than explain himself to a human who still couldn’t grasp the complexities of his life.
And so, as the common room continued to bustle around him, Crookshanks allowed himself a rare moment of contentment—before Hermione inevitably went back to her worrying, and his summer of true freedom would be over.