A/N: I know, I know! I should be working on I Would Not Kiss Him, but this plot bunny wouldn't leave me alone. It's short, I know, but I just love Mungojerrie and Rumpelteazer, and I had to write something from their human's point of view.


Most of the Time, We Leave it at that

Mischief and Hassle are my two cats. Well, they're not exactly cats yet. They're at that stage where they are still as cute as kittens, but turning into cats. I love them both, but they cause me so much trouble! Just the other day, I came home from school to a very angry mother holding poor little Mischief by the scruff of her neck. The poor kitty looked terrified, but Mother just pointed to a mess on the floor; her favorite vase, now only shards of glass, in a pool of water.

"And the other one made a mess of the litter box," she said, letting Mischief go before going upstairs to her room. I sighed and squatted down so I could look at Mischief better. I looked at her and scratched her head.

"You're a bad kitty!" I scolded. "Why are you always getting me into trouble?"

She just purred, pleased with my affection, and I hoped she didn't think she was being praised for breaking something. I stood, and she rubbed against my legs as I cleaned up the mess she had made. Then, I went to the basement to see what Hassle had done. I groaned when I saw the kitty litter all over the floor. Hassle sat atop the dryer, licking the fur on his paws, and looking extremely pleased with himself. I ran a hand along his back before fetching the vacuum cleaner. As soon as I turned it on, he jumped off the dryer, and ran upstairs, most likely to find his sister.

"I don't know why I ever decided to keep them," I said to myself as I finished up the job. I put the vacuum away and headed upstairs so I could start on my homework, when I heard a loud smash! And Mischief and Hassle ran down the basement steps to go hide from my very angry mother.

"Those horrible cats!" she cried.

I came into the dining room to see that her glass figurine of a ballerina had been knocked over and smashed, along with her china teacups.

"Was it Mischief or Hassle?" she questioned, but I just shrugged. I hadn't seen. I knew that no matter what Mother threatened to do, she would not force me to get rid of the cats. She loved them as much as I did, even if she never showed it. Whenever something new broke, she would ask me which one had done it. I would say I didn't know, and we would leave it at that. Mischief and Hassle were a handful, but we wouldn't trade them for anything.


A/N: Yeah, I'll admit, it's not my best work, but I think I had fun writing it. Review? Please? Make me happy.