June 1994

"Crooks," Hermione hissed in frustration, following what she thought was her cat. It sure looked like his tail up ahead. Orange and bushy, like a bottle brush. It had to be him! There were no other cats in the castle who looked like Crooks. (It was probably why he'd been at the Magical Menagerie for as long as he had.)

He was the last thing she had to get ready. She wanted to know that he was present and accounted for in her room when she went to sleep the night before going home for the summer.

There was nothing stopping him from leaving her room again. She knew this, and he always seemed to do just that. It would still just make her feel better that he was okay if he started the night in her room. And not off taunting Mrs. Norris.

"Crooks," she repeated. She did not want to get caught chasing him, as if he was running away from her. Ron would love that! She spotted his orange tail swishing as he trotted through the dimly lit halls. This was not what she wanted to be doing right now!

"Meow," came his response, and she sighed in frustration.

Times like this, she wondered what she was doing having a pet anyway. At least here at Hogwarts. She couldn't leave him here for the summer! So, what would she do if he didn't come back to her room by tomorrow morning?

He was doing this on purpose, no doubt! As if she didn't have enough on her mind worrying about whether Peter Pettigrew would ever get caught. Or if Sirius Black would actually stay in his house so that he wouldn't end up back in Azkaban. She was pretty sure that would gut Harry, but his godfather didn't seem to be the most logical-acting person. (Though getting into Hogwarts as his animagus form was rather ingenious, she had to admit.) Was that the result of years in Azkaban? She didn't know.

And Remus Lupin. What would he do now? She was sad he left, but realized he'd likely made the right decision resigning rather than risking being sacked. Or publicly persecuted. Not as sad as Harry, Harry liked having a friend of his father's nearby, and he had certainly been a better Defence teacher than Quirrell or Lockhart.

She sighed softly. She had no influence over any of these things, but they still weighed heavy on her mind. She couldn't control Voldemort's attempts at returning, so she wanted to find something that she could try to do something about.

Or that's how she saw it anyway.

Another, fainter sounding, "meow" came from further ahead, making her realize he was doing more than trotting now. Either that or she was letting her thoughts distract her so he could get further ahead of her.

"Where are you going?" So frustrating! Shouldn't he want to go home with her? He had to sense everyone was packing to leave.

She huffed, stopping her chasing for a moment. Maybe she should just let him run. He'd find her way back to her room. He always did. Rarely a morning went by that she didn't wake to him sleeping nearby. Of course, with her luck, he'd choose not to come back on the day she was going home for the summer.

Too late she realized where she was.

The dungeons.

Not just the dungeons, but near her potions classroom. And the door to that classroom was open. That was unusual as she knew from past experiences it was at least closed and warded. She took a deep breath and pushed the door open a little further. If she got in trouble for breaking into his classroom, she was doomed.

"Crooks," she hissed. This was all his fault! She'd thought about coming down here as she had the first two years. She hadn't, though, deciding that there was really no sufficient way to say thank you for jumping in the middle of a situation that could have resulted in Harry, Ron, and her being eaten by a werewolf.

She stepped into the room, frowning slightly at the sight of Crookshanks rather comfortably seated on Professor Snape's desk. He looked very proud of himself and not at all as if he was out of breath from running away from her. She shook her head with a roll of her eyes.

"Cats," she muttered.

Behind the desk sat Professor Snape.

Her professor for his part was running his fingers along Crookshanks' neck and back.

"This is yours?" he asked. He sounded … not at all upset at the interruption. That was odd and warmed her heart a bit. She'd never heard that he had a pet of any kind. It seemed, like their humans, familiars tended to avoid Professor Snape.

"He is."

She could hear Crooks purring from where she stood.

Traitor!

She took the remaining steps needed to stand in front of his desk. She swallowed, never having noticed her professor's hands before now. He didn't do much with them as far as spell casting, and he didn't typically brew in front of his classes. So, it was easy to miss how … long and rather graceful his fingers were in relation to his hands being rather large-seeming. Crookshanks was obviously rather pleased with the way those long and graceful fingers were scratching and petting him.

What would it be like to watch him prepare a potion, she wondered?

"That explains it then," he murmured.

"What?" she asked. Did she miss something? She didn't think so.

Her professor gave a soft scoff, lifting his hand from Crooks' back to stroke his cheek and the front of his neck instead. Crooks gave a very content sounding trill to this change in the attention he was receiving.

"No other familiars come near me. As no other students come near me either…"

Surely she wasn't the only one to ever approach him? And, yet, maybe she was. His Slytherins? They had to! Didn't they? She supposed not, part of being a Slytherin would be not needing their head of house.

"Well, your door was open, Sir."

"It was not open, Miss Granger."

"Oh," she said.

It wasn't?

It clearly was when she got to it. What did that mean? She came in here because of that. She never would have just walked into his classroom without knocking otherwise. She wasn't that daring. Even on her two previous visits, she knocked before coming in.

"I didn't…"

"I am aware. This isn't the first time he's visited. I suspect it won't be the last. Well, obviously, until September it will be."

He lifted his eyes, regarding her. She immediately got self-conscious as, while she wasn't dressed in pyjamas, she very clearly had staying in her dorm on her agenda for tonight. "What are you doing down here this time of night dressed like that?"

At least he sounded amused and not as if he was going to take points from her for the way she was dressed. (Not that he could take points, but she was sure he'd try to find a way. Gryffindor starting next year with a negative point balance because she was seen in lounging pants would not go over well.) It wasn't inappropriate, but probably less than he'd seen a Gryffindor in anyway. Being head of Slytherin, he likely saw witches in lounging clothes.

"Looking for him," she said, pointing at her cat. A cat who didn't seem at all ready to stray from the attention he was currently receiving. He looked very content where he was at the moment, in fact.

She glared at Crooks. Traitor! He was not paying any attention to her.

"He's been found."

"I guess so."

Now what?

Crooks didn't want to leave. She could just turn around and go back to her room. He would join her eventually.

"You are uncommonly quiet this evening. Has he got your tongue?"

She smiled a bit at that. She couldn't help it. He made a joke! And not at her expense. Okay, maybe a little at her expense. She could admit he probably viewed her as talking too much in his classes.

"I just," she cleared her throat.

How embarrassing.

She hadn't been prepared for this. For running into him.

"I know I should have come to say thank you again, but I wasn't sure how this year."

"How? You've forgotten how to talk?"

"No, Sir, but," she shrugged, fidgeting on her feet. "You put your life in danger. For us. How can I properly thank you for that?"

"It's part of…"

She stomped her foot with a huff. "Don't do that. You went into that shack, not knowing what was going on. We all thought Sirius Black was a deranged killer."

"Mm," her professor said simply.

"I know you don't like them. Professor Lupin and Sirius, I mean."

"You deduced that on your own, did you?"

She scowled. Now he was making fun of her, she was pretty sure. "Yes, but you went there anyway. And didn't see to it that we received detention or suspension despite being where we shouldn't have been."

"I was going to…"

"You were," she said with a nod. "And you certainly could have made an argument for expulsion when we turned our wands on you, but you didn't."

His lips thinned here, and she thought maybe she should get out while she was ahead, forget about Crookshanks for now, and head back to her dorm. She didn't want him to rethink not having them expelled after all. She didn't want him to remember three students had gotten the upper hand on him. She knew if any of them had gone against him individually, he would not have been knocked off his feet.

"I decided that suspension was counterintuitive. It would have left you with a month to plot even more mischief to get yourselves into. Besides, important information was obtained." He shook his head as Crookshanks butted his head against her professor's hand. "And expulsion. Well, I do have to see what messes you get into next year."

He was admitting he had been wrong about Sirius. Wasn't he? That Peter had done a very good job of fooling everyone into believing Sirius had betrayed the Potters and killed the rat. Her professor didn't like Sirius. Bad blood ran strong between them. That much was obvious. None of her business, really. She got the impression it went back to when they were students here.

Did Harry know Professor Snape went to school with his parents? She hadn't really put the pieces together until after the incident in the Shrieking Shack. They had to have. They were all the same age. They were all clearly familiar with one another.

Whatever her professor's reasons for hating Sirius were, it was really none of her business. As if she could ask him! She could just imagine what his response to that would be. Well, he was an adult, and had his right to feel about people how he wanted. She could admit Professor Lupin did seem a bit … different when Sirius was around him. Not quite the kindly, soft-spoken Defence teacher he'd seemed until that night in the Shack.

(Turning into a werewolf aside even.)

"Well, anyway, Sir, whatever your reasons. Thank you. Really. And if Crookshanks gives you any comfort, I'm glad that he can help."

His eyes grew hard, and she braced herself for a tonguelashing. Maybe that was the wrong thing to say, but Crookshanks did have a way of bringing her comfort when she wasn't even aware she needed it. The scolding never came, though. Why not? Did he like Crookshanks? Well, there was an interesting thought, because she didn't get the impression that Professor Snape liked much.

Clearly, Crookshanks liked Professor Snape.

"I can leave him here in your hands," she said, backing away from his desk now. She'd been here too long. She hadn't even intended to come here tonight. She really hadn't known what to say. "Thank you for not suspending me" seemed … wrong. And, well, she was afraid if she brought it up again he might still do it! "He'll find his way back to my room."

"You are sure?" he asked. As if she could make Crookshanks leave when he obviously wanted to stay put. He hadn't budged from his spot on her professor's desk. He sat tall and rather regal looking, seemingly proud of being here. He had barely even paid her any attention for that matter.

"Yes, Sir. Have a good summer."

"You as well, Miss Granger," he said.

"Thank you."

She left then, closing the door behind her because she knew he liked it closed. And it seemed Crooks had managed to open it. How that was possible, she wasn't sure. That was what the professor implied, though.

Could Crookshanks get into other places that were warded off? Evidently, he was friends with Sirius in his dog form. They could … communicate somehow. That's what Harry said, and certainly she'd seen evidence of that being true that night in the shack.

There was an interesting thought. She'd read up on Kneazles in between other things that required her attention this year. One thing she did remember from her reading was that they could detect people who were untrustworthy or suspicious.

This led her to believe that Sirius could be trusted. Crookshanks worked with him. Helped him. Helped them get into the Shrieking Shack. So that meant her familiar trusted him.

It also meant, though, that many people were wrong about her potions professor. Didn't it? Her cat very clearly trusted the wizard and was pretty blatantly choosing his attention over hers at this moment in time. He wouldn't do that if Professor Snape didn't deserve it. It didn't sound like tonight was the first night he'd done this either. Visited him.

Would Harry believe her if she told him, though?

Probably not. And then she'd have to explain what she was doing down here anyway. Chasing Crookshanks seemed too contrived even in her mind, as if it was an excuse.

No one knew about her end of year visits to Professor Snape, and she thought he appreciated that was true as much as she did. She'd be embarrassed if anyone found out, and he more than likely would be, too.

Next year.

She'd watch for evidence Crookshanks went to him next year, and if she actually saw or knew it happened, then she'd tell Harry. He should know, but if she was wrong. If Crookshanks was wrong, and she told Harry he could be trusted.

Well, she'd never forgive herself.

She was pretty sure Crooks wasn't wrong, though.

~The End~

Story ©Susan Falk/APCKRFAN/PhantomRoses.com