Crookshanks barely opened an eye before settling back into his spot in front of the fire after the door to Hermione's quarters swung open, then swiftly shut. If the man with the messy black hair hadn't closed it behind himself so quickly, the cat may have contemplated a trip out into the castle's corridors to look for a mouse to catch. But the fire was wonderfully hot and his cushion in front of it perfectly fluffy, so venturing out really didn't have much of a draw.

This wizard, the one his witch called Harry, came sneaking into her rooms every few nights. He liked to use that magical cloak to make sure no one saw him, but Crookshanks always did after he locked the door behind himself and took the cloak off to carefully hang on a hook next to the door.

Crookshanks had known this man since he was just a little boy and saw no reason to pay him any extra mind. Thinking perhaps his underside wasn't getting quite enough heat from the fire, the cat rolled over, then tried to doze back off.

"Hermione?" Harry called his witch's name after some movement in the corner. Probably taking off his shoes. Hermione liked people to take off their shoes when they came over. She said it was polite. Crookshanks didn't care either way. "Your note said you needed help with something?"

"Oh Harry! Thank goodness you're here!"

Immediately thinking something was amiss, Crookshanks opened both eyes to assess the situation. Hermione's voice had been high and breathy, like she was worried or scared. A few minutes ago, when she'd been writing that note to Harry, she had seemed just fine. She'd even giggled before sealing it and sending it off. What had changed?

"I just can't seem to get this spell right and I know you're so good at it. Maybe you could show me? You know," she twirled a curl between her fingers, "you could make sure my stance is correct?"

Aha. Hermione was doing that thing again—pretending to be different than she was. She'd done this before.

He had been very confused the first time his witch acted like nearly the opposite of herself. That time he had nosed his way in, trying to see if she smelled like a potion or a spell, because there was obviously something wrong with her. His meows and insistent paws on her legs had gotten him an exasperated "Crooks!" and a push towards his food.

But for a moment, she'd been her normal self while shooing him away and he'd figured out she was acting. He'd purred proudly at her. His witch was a fine actress. Perhaps she was choosing a strange way to act, but she was doing it very well.

Now he knew better what signs to look for, and he could see that tonight Hermione was back to pretending she wasn't good at magic when Crookshanks knew she was, in reality, quite talented.

Turning his gaze to Harry, he read the wizard's body language to confirm his thoughts. And yes, Harry looked very happy to have been asked for help; not worried at all that someone had put a curse on the woman they both knew was brilliant.

With a sigh, the cat settled back in and tried to ignore the two humans.

"You're holding your hips wrong."

"Like this?"

"A little bit looser. This spell is as much about how your whole body moves as it is about how you use your wand."

"You'll show me how you use your wand later, too, right?"

Harry snorted, then cleared his throat. "Of course. I'll be happy to demonstrate my wand work for you. But first I have to make sure your hip movements aren't too stiff."

"I don't know what you mean."

"Would it be alright if I touched you? I can help adjust them."

Ignoring them was proving impossible. Why couldn't they go to Hermione's bedroom? They sometimes did that when Harry came over. Maybe if he stretched and reminded them he was here?

He stood and arched his back and trilled a soft, "Hello."

Nobody took the hint.

In fact, Harry was now standing directly behind Hermione, gripping her hips and doing some sort of swaying movement. His eyes looked dark, but not dangerous as he gazed over Hermione's shoulder. She was wearing a very small camisole and the cat thought Harry must really like it by the way he stared.

"That's it, you're getting it now!"

"Do you think so?"

Harry spun her around and stood closer than he needed to, in the cat's opinion. In a commanding voice that he rarely heard the man use outside his classroom, he told Hermione, "Show me."

Crookshanks wanted to roll his eyes. Unfortunately, cats, even the half-kneazle variety, couldn't do that. Instead, he sat up and tried getting their attention again, in order to tell them how ridiculous their play-acting was becoming. He stared at them intently. And let out a firm, "Meow!"

It was uncharacteristic for his person to pay him no mind, even when there was a wizard present, but all of her concentration seemed to be on her wand movements. And Harry. Maybe Harry wasn't as worthy of his esteem after all.

Hermione performed the charm perfectly. Of course she did. It wasn't a complicated one at all. Crookshanks was sure that if he could get his paws on a wand and use his vocal cords for anything beside meowing, purring, and yowling he could have cast that spell, too.

"You did it!"

"Only because you helped me." She grabbed Harry's arm and squeezed. "You're so powerful and strong."

Crookshanks considered throwing up a hairball.

When Harry suggested showing Hermione his wand movements, the cat decided he'd had enough. With a yawn, and one more disdainful look at the couple, he meandered to the bedroom and leapt onto the bed.

It was some time later when he was once again disturbed, this time by the two falling onto the bed. They didn't seem to be playing their game anymore as they were both naked and no longer saying such silly things. Hermione did look a bit distressed, but Crookshanks knew that facial expression meant something else entirely.