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When Remus came through the door of their cottage on Friday night the last thing he expected was to find his partner snoring on the sofa with a very large, very orange, ball of fur nestled on his stomach.
As if sensing his gaze the fur began to shift until an almost impossibly squished face and golden eyes turned in his direction.
“Hello Crookshanks.” The werewolf greeted quietly, observing the pair for another fond moment before turning and disappearing into the kitchen.
A basket sat on the counter with high protein cat food and some kind of meat in a stasis charm. Along with that was a pink jumper and a parchment of what he could only assume were instructions. Hermione was a girl who valued her lists.
Kettle in hand, Remus hummed under his breath as it sat under the running tap.
Something brushed his leg.
“So what exactly are you doing here? Hm?”
Crookshanks merely crossed between his feet and then leapt up onto the counter.
“She's gone to Australia.” Sirius voice was still heavy with sleep from where he appeared in the doorway. “To find her parents.”
An exhale left the professor and he nodded, pleased, and with a flick of the wand brought the water up to temperature instantly. Sirius slid past to take down mugs and spoons.
“Ron’s gone with her. Pigwidgeon is off somewhere with Minnie. Hermione thought that since Crookshanks and Padfoot became such good friends he would feel more comfortable here.”
“Fair assumption. You're both notoriously impulsive.”
“I like to think were both wildly intelligent with a streak of daring.”
As if in agreeance, their guest began to headbutt Sirius’ arm.
For a split second Remus found himself assaulted by such a heavy sense of deja vú that he froze in place.
“We should get a kneazle.” Sirius sounded entirely sincere as he cleared away the vase to make room for biscuits. The other man shook his head to clear it and chuckled weakly.
“We should. Our neighbours would adore us. No pest problems ever again. Able to spot a burglar or a con artist, general idiots...serial killers.” At his partner's questioning glance he corrected himself. “Mass murderers.”
“You know...I think Crookshanks must have seen Harry’s photo albums...”
Of all the things to come out of Sirius mouth that was the last thing expected. Remus arched a brow in question, biscuit in hand.
“Why?”
“He knows what James and Lily look like.”
Another unspoken ‘why’ crossed Remus face.
“When I'm Padfoot I can...see things. Thoughts. His thoughts. Perhaps because he's half kneazle and I'm a wizard. It's almost like a flash of a photo. And exchange of thoughts...or...fuck. This sounds ridiculous.”
“It doesn't.” Remus was quick to reassure, covering Sirius’ hand with his own. Whatever his own impressions of the matter, the wizard refused to let the other think him stupid. Sirius needed that belief.
“But he...I've seen Lily smiling. James. Or the house in the hollow. Just odd that Harry would leave them about or out.”
“I'm just glad he has them.” A vague memory of an ugly orange kitten stumbling across the Potter’s kitchen flitted across his mind. A glance sideways showed their guest to be perched on the counter still, gaze intent. Almost as though he were following their conversation. “What was the name of that cat they had?”
“No bloody idea. It was barely there when I visited. Face like he'd been hit by a shovel…” Slowly Sirius trailed off and looked at Remus. Together their eyes swiveled to Crookshanks. The cat stared back, tail flicking.
“There’s no way…” Remus began.
“Ludicrous.” Sirius agreed.
“Three Broomsticks for dinner?”
“Yeah, perfect.”
If cats could roll their eyes Crookshank's would have been somewhere in the back of his skull . Instead he grumbled in annoyance before jumping down and heading off in pursuit of prey.
Humans. Honestly.