The Truth About Cats
Summary: Severus detests cats. Hermione happens to have one. And Dumbledore probably has a good laugh about it all. COMPLETE One Shot

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I hate cats.

When I was a child, Lucius Malfoy had a cat. He was a few years older than I was (a fact which still pleases me), and neglected to tell me during my first meeting with his so-called ‘pet’ that it disliked strangers. He thought it funny to watch the horrid animal bite, spit and hiss at me when I came within a foot of it.

Needless to say, my liking for the creatures dwindled instantly.

My hatred might have cooled to a mere indifference, had I the pleasure of meeting a playful and friendly (two words I dislike in anything but animals and the woman currently looking at me with a raised eyebrow) feline, but alas, I was not so fortunate. Each cat I came across after the incident with the Malfoy Beast behaved the same way. They bite, spit, and hiss in my general direction until I am able to extricate myself from the potentially dangerous situation. After all, the students might not be so afraid of me after seeing me squeal like a little girl and run, should the cat decide to pounce.

I’ve wondered more than once if that’s one of the reasons I was put into Slytherin. The great Gryffindor Lion - nothing more than a giant cat. And Slytherin, Gryffindor’s greatest enemy. Perhaps it’s simply a coincidence, but it’s not entirely an implausible theory.

The point is that I hate, nay, detest, loathe, and deplore any animal of the feline persuasion. My dislike for them is only matched by my loathing for Sirius Black. And maybe Voldemort, before he died. But at least Voldemort never latched his claws into your pant leg and attempted to rip the unfortunate trousers off. Trouser-ripping is a quality I only like in her. Though now I’m reevaluating any and all feelings and opinions I have of my new wife.

“NO, Hermione. I REFUSE to deal with that... thing.”

I say it with such vehemence that she jumps a little in surprise. Sighing, she comes over to me and puts her arms around my waist, resting her head on my chest.

“Severus, now, I know you don’t particularly like cats...”

I snort. “An entirely optimistic way of putting it.”

“But he’s mine, and I refuse to get rid of him.”

She’s looking at me with those brown eyes, and speaking in that no-nonsense voice she knows I have a weakness for, and I very nearly give in. But then I hear a mewing noise, and my attention is drawn back to the doorway where a squash-nosed, ginger cat is appraising me.

“At least he hasn’t attacked me yet,” I mutter, giving the animal my best ‘you’re going to lose a few hundred points’ glare.

I can almost hear the eye-roll she gives me. “He’s not going to hurt you. Are you Crooks?” she addressed the beast.

The cat sniffs once, and takes a few steps closer to where Hermione and I are standing. I tense immediately at its proximity, and Hermione starts running her hand through my hair. Damn her. She knows that makes me compliant.

I take a bit of comfort in the fact that the cat seems just as wary of me as I am of it.

It pauses when it gets to my feet, and despite Hermione’s hand, I brace myself for the inevitable claw in my leg. But it doesn’t come. Instead, the cat sniffs me once, twice, three times, bumps his head against my ankle, and goes off to explore the rest of my chambers.

It’s a few seconds before I come out of my surprised silence. “That went better than I expected.”

Hermione grins at me. “Were I a few years younger, I might take delight in saying ‘I told you so’.”

Naturally, I scowl at her cheek. “You do know that if I find him eating my class notes, or sitting on my pillow that I will toss him into the lake.”

“At the most, he’d be sitting on my own pillow.”

“All the same, if he ever gets confused, it’ll be up to you to convince the squid to help you get him back.”

She giggles. “Of course. Now that the introductions are all over, and I’m all moved in, how about we... celebrate properly?” She says the last in a husky tone that leaves no room for misinterpretation.

Despite the wariness still lingering in me at the idea of a cat lingering nearby, I can’t help but smirk at suggestion.

“Of course, Mrs. Snape. As the lady wishes.”

Crookshanks amused himself for the next few hours by playing with the rug in front of the sitting room fireplace. And he didn’t eat any of my notes.

*FIN*