Languid sunlight seeped through the window.
Warmed by the light, a creature curled up by the bed slowly opened its eyes, feeling the heat on its fur.
*Yaaawn.* It glanced around, then stretched its front paws out in a long, satisfying stretch.
Licking and grooming his own golden fur was none other than the cat, Crookshanks.
*—Meow. 'I'm hungry.'*
He smacked his lips and looked around. A cat's mind does not concern itself with many things. A master, food, a touch of mischief, and a few other miscellaneous necessities for life are sufficient.
He hopped onto the windowsill to sunbathe for a moment. But being the only one awake, Crookshanks began to feel a little bored.
After a brief survey of his surroundings, Crookshanks decided on his next course of action.
*Leap!*
"Keck!"
A groan emanated from deep within someone's lungs. Specifically, from beneath Crookshanks's body. This was because Crookshanks's next destination had been his master's chest.
Crookshanks shifted slightly to find a comfortable spot on his master Hermione's chest and began to purr. This was the premium, plush bed provided by his master-slash-butler.
Of course, his master seemed to have a different opinion.
"Crook…shanks. I told you not to jump on my chest from up high… It hurts when you press down…"
Hermione mumbled, still half-asleep with her eyes closed. An ordinary cat might not have understood, but Crookshanks, with the blood of the incredibly intelligent magical creature, the Kneazle, running through his veins, could understand most human speech.
Of course, understanding did not mean obeying. If anything, it was the opposite. Crookshanks paid her words no mind and began to knead her soft bed. At this, Hermione let out a small laugh, finally giving up and stroking Crookshanks's head.
*'Ah, humans. They forgive you for almost anything if you do this. Convenient.'*
Whether she would have forgiven him had she known his inner thoughts was another matter entirely.
Still not fully awake, Hermione covered her eyes with her hand to shield them from the piercing sunlight. But a moment later, she shot up in bed. Naturally, Crookshanks, who had been planning to nap on her chest, was suddenly deprived of his bed.
She hadn't always been like this, but ever since she'd picked up that strange necklace filled with sand, her routine had become even more rigid. Crookshanks glared for a moment at his needlessly diligent master.
*'I, in my magnanimity, shall let it pass.'*
She roughly ran a comb through her bushy hair and threw on the robe hanging by her bed. Hermione said to Crookshanks, "I have a lot of classes today, so I won't be back until the afternoon. You have to play nicely on your own, okay? And if you go outside, make sure to come back before it gets late."
*—Meow. 'Such a needless worry.'*
With that, Hermione started down the dormitory stairs. But contrary to her words about not returning until the afternoon, she came dashing back into the room not even five seconds after she had left.
A faint blush colored her cheeks. Hermione whispered in a flustered tone, "Crookshanks! Aisen is already up and outside! What do I do?"
*—Meeeeeow. 'What do you mean, 'what do I do?' If you really want an answer, I'll tell you if you give me a treat.'*
Or you could just give me a treat.
Naturally, Hermione failed to understand Crookshanks's hopeful plea. She took out her wand and began to groom herself, even resorting to magic.
Watching his master, Crookshanks began to groom himself with a sigh.
*'I can understand my master's words, but my master cannot understand mine. Doesn't that make me the superior being? My pathetic master. I have to take care of her.'*
As if magic wasn't enough, Hermione applied some Muggle lotion from a pouch, tied her hair up prettily, and finally, with a spell, smoothed every last stray fiber on her uniform. Only then did she clear her throat and descend the stairs.
Since there was nothing to do in the room, Crookshanks followed his master down, watching with interest… though half of it was by force.
Halfway down, he had gotten bored and tried to go back up to sleep, but the damned staircase had turned into a slide and sent him tumbling to the bottom.
He vaguely remembered his master once saying that a spell prevented boys from going up the girls' dormitory stairs.
*'Damned magic. I'm a male, but I'm a cat, not a human.'*
Unable to go back up, Crookshanks had no choice but to follow Hermione and was soon rewarded with an interesting sight. The indignity he suffered at the hands of the staircase was quickly forgotten as he flopped down to watch.
The black-haired boy Hermione was approaching. Ah, Crookshanks remembered him. His name was Aisen, wasn't it?
Crookshanks didn't usually remember human names, but this boy was peculiar in many ways, so he had stuck in his memory. The most peculiar thing about him, though, was the parrot he kept, Ardeura.
Ardeura was a parrot who had introduced herself as a phoenix, which Crookshanks thought was a load of bird droppings.
*'If a parrot like that is a phoenix, then I am clearly the Nemean Lion.'*
Aisen and Hermione seemed to exchange a few words, then simply sat down in chairs. From Crookshanks's perspective, it was a rather anticlimactic scene. Feeling disappointed, Crookshanks couldn't resist offering some unsolicited advice.
*—Meow… Hissss. 'Tsk tsk. That's not it. That's not what you're supposed to do… Ugh, it's hopeless.'*
Crookshanks clicked his tongue at his hopeless master in his own feline way.
In the eyes of Crookshanks—an expert in romance who had gotten 16 female cats pregnant—it was obvious that his master wanted to mate with the male named Aisen. (This is Crookshanks's perspective.)
But no matter how he looked at it, that Aisen didn't seem to have any desire to procreate with his master.
*'My poor master. She's a kind-hearted master who gives me plenty of treats, too. Should I help her out a little?'*
Crookshanks pondered how he could help his master successfully find a mate. First, what was the reason for her failed seduction?
*'I don't really understand human perspectives, but my master might be a bit clumsy, but she's not without her charms.'*
Though he had no concept of human beauty standards, Crookshanks knew from the gazes other males sent his master's way that she was by no means unattractive. Quite the opposite, in fact.
Since entering their third year, the students had begun to take an interest in the opposite sex, and countless boys had shown interest in the pretty Hermione.
Being hopelessly dense, she hadn't seemed to notice, but Crookshanks was well aware of the gossip that sometimes circulated in the common room.
To use a feline analogy, Hermione's charm was on the same level as Betty, the she-cat who lived by the black lake. A slender face, dark black stripes around her eyes, an incredibly voluminous tail, and a captivating allure.
Crookshanks recalled the bloody battle where he had defeated over thirty other tomcats to win her, and a proud smile graced his face.
No, that's not it.
*'So, what is my master lacking? Is it her ability?'*
Crookshanks instinctively nodded.
*'Of all things, one of the most important virtues for a lioness is her hunting skill.'*
Crookshanks was just a housecat, not even a wildcat, let alone a lion, but with his Kneazle blood, he considered himself a strong feline—which was practically a lion. Perhaps living in Gryffindor, with its lion crest everywhere, had something to do with it.
In any case, in the eyes of the self-proclaimed descendant of lions, his master, who despite her great charm repeatedly failed in her courtship competition with other females, had clearly been branded as an incompetent female by the male named Aisen! (To reiterate, this is solely Crookshanks's perspective.)
Crookshanks let out a yawn.
*'If it were me, I would have just pounced on her, ability or not. Humans are such troublesome creatures.'*
Regardless, if he could just improve his master's abilities, it was certain that the male named Aisen would naturally begin to court Hermione.
The only problem was that Crookshanks, a cat, had no way to improve the abilities of his wizard master. No matter how superior a male he was, Crookshanks couldn't very well teach Hermione how to be a good mouser.
But Crookshanks swished his tail and put on a confident expression.
*'If there's something I can't do, I just need to get someone else to do it for me.'*
***
Lunchtime, when all the Gryffindor students were gone.
Crookshanks, who had been enjoying a leisurely nap, slowly opened his eyes.
*'Alright, is it time?'*
Normally, the only way in or out of the Gryffindor common room was through the portrait of the Fat Lady. Of course, the Fat Lady was currently in a coma, but Sir Cadogan was filling in, so the situation was unchanged.
However, for Crookshanks, a cat, things were a little different. Driven by his own unpredictable exploratory instincts, he had long since found a secret passage to the outside. A leap up to the window, a jump across the ledges between the outer bricks, and he could quickly reach the exterior of the Astronomy Tower.
Of course, it was a path that was impossible for anyone without the small body and agility of a cat.
*'If I were even three years older, I probably couldn't use this route.'*
It was so precarious that even Crookshanks thought so.
In any case, once outside, Crookshanks wove his way through the bushes and cried out from beneath the window of a certain classroom.
*—Nyaaaang! 'Open up!'*
He scratched at the crack of the window with his claws to announce his presence, and in less than a minute, the window opened.
Crookshanks leaped down as if it were the most natural thing in the world and began to groom his dirtied fur. He was clearly the only cat in the room, but another cat with black spectacle markings, who had appeared from nowhere, approached him.
*—Meeow? 'What brings you here?'*
*—Nyaaaang! 'Long time no see, old-timer!'*
*—Meow. 'You're still such a clever cat.'*
*—Hmphnya. 'I'm smarter than a wizard.'*
*—Meeeeeow. 'Let's just say you are. So, what brings you here? Would you like some Kraken jerky?'*
*—…Nyaa. 'I won't refuse if you're offering. …No, that's not why I'm here.'*
Crookshanks shook his head for a moment to fight off the temptation of the dried Kraken, and remembered his original purpose.
*'My master seems to lack ability! Help my master become more competent.'*
Crookshanks gave a triumphant smile. The cat before him, unlike himself, was someone who could improve Hermione's abilities!
Because she wasn't actually a cat, but a wizard Animagus. Crookshanks shivered as he recalled a time long ago when he, unaware of this fact, had rashly attacked her.
Crookshanks made his request with an air of dignity to McGonagall, transformed into a cat with spectacle markings.
*'If you grant my request, I will inform you of any students causing trouble in the dormitory!'*
*'Your master? You mean Granger? Why all of a sudden?'*
*'Well, you see…'*
For a long while, he explained to McGonagall about Hermione's acts of courtship toward Aisen, and his own deliberations on why they were not working. As McGonagall listened to Crookshanks, she seemed to find it impossible to hold back her laughter.
*'If that's the case, I will be more than happy to help, so you need not worry.'*
*'As expected of an Animagus! Amazing. I will deign to call you a wizard who is smarter than me!'*
*'…Ah, is that so. There's some jerky up there, take it with you. For some reason, our Headmaster keeps giving me leftovers.'*
*'Jerky! Great! Delicious!'*
Licking his lips, his mouth watering, Crookshanks spent a good while tearing at the jerky that McGonagall, now back in human form, had given him.
*'For some reason, this jerky smells similar to the one that parrot was eating. It must be my imagination.'*
Having brilliantly accomplished his mission to improve his master's skills, Crookshanks filled his belly and returned proudly to the Gryffindor dormitory.
That evening, Hermione returned and lay on her bed, stroking Crookshanks.
Crookshanks naturally climbed onto Hermione's plush upper body and, as a reward, began to knead her.
"Crookshanks, did you have a good day?"
*—Nyaaaaaaaaaaah! 'I did! I worked hard for my master, so you don't have to worry about your courtship anymore, meow!'*
Crookshanks replied proudly.
And so, unbeknownst to her, Hermione's future of squirming in embarrassment as Professor McGonagall became privy to her entire situation was sealed.
***