Disclaimer: Hello, my name's Jo Rowling. Why doesn't anybody believe me?

This story was written in drabbles format for the grangersnape100 livejournal community.

Reread by Somigliana, who helped me make this real English.

A Plotting Cat

Crookshanks felt old – ancient, but at peace. He had had very full lives; the ninth and last one had been particularly satisfying. He had been lucky enough to find a nice mistress, though he thought that she should have done something to tame her fur.

She had very nice friends, except for the red-headed one; the boy had mocked him from the beginning, and had unfairly accused him of treachery; a crime of which the rat had been guilty. When it became clear that his mistress was enamoured with the prat, Crookshanks decided that it was time that he intervened.


He had liked the man-dog, so brave and loyal, but he was no more. Crookshanks knew of only one other man who was suitable for his mistress. Unfortunately, that dark-haired man had left. He knew that the wizard's gesture was considered a crime, but who wouldn't understand the necessity of getting rid of an old fogey who had tried to poison everyone with yellow pills? That act had propelled the dungeon dweller to being high in Crookshanks' esteem.

He said goodbye to his mistress by offering her a very purring cuddling, and set off in search of his future master.


Crookshanks had travelled for days. An old school owl had given him the man's address, but to get there had been a bit tricky. He had had to use Muggle transportation, and had nearly been caught twice because he had been travelling alone.

He was now pacing and mewing in front of a decrepit house's door on Spinner's End. The door opened slightly.

"What are you doing here?" he heard a man's voice say. "I have seen you before, haven't I?"

Crookshanks answered by rubbing himself around the robe-clad legs and purring loudly. The man sighed and took him inside.


In the meantime, Hermione was getting ready to leave Hogwarts for the Burrow the following day to attend Bill's and Fleur's wedding, when she noticed her familiar's absence. She searched the castle and the grounds, and asked the teachers and remaining students about him, but her half-Kneazle had neatly disappeared. She would have to use the magical tattoo that she had placed on her errant cat to find him. It would take her to where he was; she just hoped he wasn't chasing mice in narrow places. She spoke the incantation and landed on a mattress in a dark room.


Her wand in hand, she looked around a room bathed in moonlight. It was barely furnished: a bed, a nightstand, and a wardrobe. Not even a chair. She felt her cat butt against her thigh in welcome.

"Where did you take me, Crooks?" It was a rhetorical question, for the cat couldn't answer her, but she felt that it was very important to know. She scooped up her cat, but before she could stand up, someone came into the bedroom, slamming the door against the wall in their haste. She felt a wand tip pressed into her throat, and fainted.