Disclaimer: Harry Potter, associated characters and setting belong to JK Rowling and whoever she chooses to share the rights with, which does not include me. This is for entertainment purposes only, with no copyright infringement intended, or profit made.

Any blame for this story rests solely on a small gray cat named Eric, who lives with me, and steals my blue socks (and only my blue socks).

Summery: Housemates Hermione, Harry and Teddy have settled into Grimmauld Place and life after Hogwarts. Crookshanks has settled into the life of a too-smart kneazel, and feline prankster. What secrets will be reveled through sock stealing? Post DH, EWE.

Romance. Hermione. George.

The ( Mysterious Long Range ) Migratory Habits of Socks

Hermione's life had settled into a pattern. She went to work, as an up and coming Wizengamot lobbyist, and came home each day to the fully revamped Grimmauld Place.

Monday nights were muggle Movie Nights in, now that Harry had gotten a television to work in Grimmauld. Usually it was Harry, Teddy, Hermione George, Ginny and Mr. Weasley. The movies had to be kid friendly, for Teddy's sake, but there was such a backlog of movies that Harry and the Weasleys hadn't seen, Hermione didn't mind.

Tuesdays were quiddich nights. Hermione tended to work late while the boys went out to a game, or listened on WWN and played poker.

Wednesdays Teddy went to Andromeda's place, and Harry and Hermione ordered take out and lazed about before going to bed early. Preschoolers are hard work.

Thursdays were the Auror's typical night at the pub. The younger group of 'war heroes' joined in once they'd found that Auror's knew when not to ask questions. By now, the two groups were used to each other, and Harry and Ron were qualified twice over. The friendly drinking environment didn't prevent darts competitions or trivia challenges, but they looked after each other. George, early on, had woken up on a bunk in the Auror ready room more then once after having toasted Fred and gotten pissed. Of all the Wizarding world, the Aurors just seemed to understand that 'war hero' wasn't something to brag about.

Fridays were Andromeda's night out, and thus Harry and Hermione's night in.

First thing Saturday morning Hermione made a library run each week. She's started after a Weasley Christmas when Minerva McGonagall had asked what she was reading, Hermione's only answers were tax codes from the fourteenth century, and she realized hadn't read for pleasure in at least two months. After turning bright red, she'd explained this to her old professor, who'd suggested a weekend library run. Hermione was there at opening every Saturday, and had been so reliable she'd been given a key in case of emergency.

Sunday Brunch at the Burrow marked the end of the week, and the most red hair any of the saw in one place.

Hermione had a few more habits. Sunday evening she did laundry, and she disassembled Crookshanks' nest.

^o.o^

When she and Harry had first moved in to the house and started their ministry work, socks had started disappearing at an alarming rate. Hermione, remembering her mother's tales of dryers that ate socks, went so far as to look up sock eating monsters in the Central Ministry Library. Myths don't start without some reason, after all, and muggle and magical myths do share overlap. However, after a week of searching, during which she was completely unwilling to ask anyone for help, she came to the realization that here was no magical sock eating monster infesting Grimmauld Place, or if there was, it was a one of a kind, undocumented monster.

When she told Harry and George of her conclusion, they argued that there must be one. Harry was down to 3 unmatched socks, and George, even tough he didn't even live there, was missing 7 socks and a pair of briefs, last seen in the vicinity.

They were perplexed for two and a half weeks, during which Harry laundered his own socks by hand, and slept with them under his pillow. Finally, it was Luna who figured it out.

There was a magical sock stealing monster. His name was Crookshanks. He'd dragged away their clothing, all the way up to the attic, and created a warm nest in front of a small west facing window, with afternoon sun.

Hermione had disassembled it, washed the layers of dust off of the clothes, and returned them.

A week later, Harry still had his socks, but there wasn't a dish towel in sight in the kitchen.

The next week, Harry checked the attic to find all of Hermione's unmentionables, including some her mother had given her 'for special occasions.' Harry had blushed pink for hours, but had reclaimed the clothing, and added it to the wash.

Hermione placed a folded quilt up in front of the window, in hopes of compromising with the half-kneazal. These days, he still stole socks and washcloths, but at a much slower rate. All residents and any visitors who intended to take off their shoes were encouraged to label their clothing, for its quick return.

^o.o^

Hermione was baffled. For the last four weeks she had found a least one unmarked sock in the nest on Sunday night. Where could they be coming from? Neither she nor Harry had bought new socks without labeling them. The socks were not Teddy sized. Nor where they in any way George like. George's socks tended to be bright colored, and have singe marks. These new socks all matched, were unburnt, and felt so soft Hermione though there must be some silk in the mix. She'd looked up a charm. There was in fact silk in them, along with cashmere.

No one she knew of wore silk or cashmere socks. It was a mystery. Whose feet were going bare, and how was Crookshanks doing it?

Hermione had consulted George, just in case he'd shifted his sock buying habits, perhaps at the preference of a female companion. When Hermione had asked this, as subtly as possible, George had laughed for a good ten minutes. He claimed no woman would change his sock colors. Teal socks was part of the package deal that was George. Besides, he pointed out he was currently single.

This still left Hermione stumped.

After the eighth sock, she recruited George's help. One of them would check the nest daily, to try and pinpoint the sock's arrival date to the nest, and hopefully pare down the arrival options, so the mystery socks could be identified.

On week seven, the sock appeared between Wednesday and Friday morning. This made no sense to Hermione. Wednesday nights were quiet, and early to bed. Thursdays they went out, and hadn't hosted any guests. Then the sock was there, it it' place of honor, serving as a pillow for her napping cat. During week eight, two socks appeared, one on Monday night, and one something before Saturday noon. Hermione debated making a chart. Once again, the timing of the sock's arrival didn't help pinpoint its owner.

^o.o^

That Sunday, just after she cleared the nest, she sat on the attic steps with her newest library book, a biography of Hogwart's first Headmistress, and waited. Crookshanks knew when she cleared the nest. He's start rebuilding it as soon as possible, and she meant to see which way he came from.

George, finding her there, and finding Crookshanks waiting on the top stair for her to leave, laughed.

"It was a good plan, but a bit obvious. Crookshanks isn't going to spill his secret that easy."

"He's a cat. He's a sock stealing cat. This shouldn't be this hard."

"They are very snugly socks. I can understand his attachment to them."

"Well, if they aren't claimed by Christmas, I'll remember that, and make you a pillowcase out of them. We should have enough for two by then, at this rate."

George laughed. "I might just hold you to that. Can you imagine the family's faces when I unwrap that present... It'd be brilliant."

"Your mother would assume I'd gone insane. Especially when I explained they're used socks belonging to an unknown person."

"True, and put like that it doesn't sound very appetizing." George paused. "Are you going to keep sitting there?"

"I'm staking the attic out, at least until I have to go to bed. I'm beyond curious."

"The unknowable frustrates you, darling, we all know that. But it's socks, not election law. It's not like soft socks are going to change your life."

Hermione sat and flipped a page of her book.

George sighed and sat next to her. "I feel silly, trying to out think a cat... but you'll need my help. Your cat has a prankster's brains, so we'll have to fight fire with fire."

Hermione closed her book around a pressed flower book mark, and smiled. "He was never this much of a problem at Hogwarts..."

"Didn't he steal the Gryffindor passwords once, and give them to Sirius?"

"Well, yes, but..."

"Ah, you didn't have to clean up after his pranks at Hogwarts, so you concentrated on your studies. Now you've seen his plot, and can't help but want to know.."

"I just... where are they coming from. I've asked everyone. All of ours are labeled. I asked every guest. I even asked some of the Aurors, and believe me, that was a weird conversation."

"Did you tell them why you were asking?"

"No, just if anyone was missing a batch of socks, especially if they were last seen near here."

"So they either think you're insane, or that Teddy and I are pranking you..."

"Please, not until he's old enough for school."

"Don't worry, dear-heart. I know when not to prank."

Hermione looked up to see if Crookshanks was still sitting at the top of the steps. He wasn't. When she went up to see where he's gone, he was sitting on hi quilt, licking his face, and looking smug. Under his head was a silky looking sock.

Hermione screamed in frustration. George came running. When he saw the source of her frustration, he laughed so hard he had to cling to her to stay upright.

"Plus one point to Crookshanks."

Hermione sat down on the attic floor. "George." Her voice was flat, lacking all energy.

"Yes?"

"Fix it?"

"Is this like 'George, fix the spider hanging over the couch'? You want me to make the socks go away?"

"I want to either know, or to stop worrying."

"I'll investigate, although I'm claiming your suite's sofa, and breakfast daily as wages."

"Deal."

Harry didn't comment on George's sudden presence in the house, although he did raise an eyebrow the first time he appeared at breakfast. Teddy was delighted at another person to play with. Crookshanks took to sitting on top of a bookshelf and watching him whenever possible. George told Hermione he didn't mind the cat attempting counter-intelligence. After all, if push came to shove, George outweighed him. Hermione shook her head, and thanked George for cheering her up.

Another silk sock appeared in the early hours of Friday morning. George smiled, wrote it down, and informed Hermione he'd ruled out an external source. The house had been locked down tight against any four legged cat burglars.

^o.o^

This week George helped her sort out the nest. Since he was kipping on her couch, his clothes were vulnerable, and he claimed it was his responsibility to reclaim them. Hermione still managed to complement him on wearing 'do not open until x-mas' boxers in September. It turns out it is possible to make an adult Weasley turn bright red and clash with his own hair.

"George, you must be off today. Normally you'd joke about letting people open presents early..."

"I... I'm not at my best when viewing my shorts in mixed company."

"I don't remember you having this problem before. Crooks has struck you before... And remember when Lee added to the Quiddich bunting. You all laughed it off."

"I should say solo mixed company then. I don't want to joke about letting you open presents early, Dear, it'd be..." George voice trailed off.

Hermione blinked, then filled in the blank. "-Weird. Okay, I can accept that. I was just worry that lack of joking might be a sign you're coming down with something. If you get sick due to lack of sleep while camped out on my couch, I'd feel horrible."

George started at her, moth open, trying to respond. He remained pink for an hour, but didn't speak. He packed his bags in defeat, and went home.

Hermione gave up any pretense of subtlety, and posted a notice on the front door, reminding all visitors that fabric items weighing under a kilo were to be labeled with the owners name, under threat of kneazel theft.

^o.o^

The next week, Hermione flooed to George's flat laughing hysterically. When he came to inspect the ruckus she was making in the living room, she handed a folded pair of boxers, labeled ''WWW-G" and told him simply "Crooks can floo, or fly, or something."

"Nonsense. I must have left these last week-"

"No, George, I understand your skivvies showing up. But the soft socks. There was a new one. And it's labeled..."

"Labeled what?"

"Very clearly labeled. It says 'Draco Malfoy' clear as day."

George stood there, in silence, pondering. Hermione nodded, acknowledging this was not at all expected.

George perked up. "Maybe Andromeda's been having him over, and... And Teddy's been bringing home socks for Crooks."

"George..."

" -It's a toddler and pet conspiracy to drive you insane until you buy them both ice cream."

"George" Hermione help up her hands to stop him. "I already asked Andromeda. She had Draco over once, and Teddy wasn't there then."

"But, then, how..."

"Crooks can floo, I tell you."

"I checked, last time. He didn't leave the house."

"Come over now. Let put a tracking spell on him."

"Hermione, tracking spells don't work on kneazels or cats. If you could design one that did, you'd rake in the galleons."

"I though they were common for use on pets..." Hermione wrinkled her forehead, trying to remember what passage in what book she'd read that.

"Pets yes. Dogs, Toads, Birds... But not Post owls, nor kneazels, nor cats. Even purely muggle cats shed tracking charms in under a minute."

"Well, that doesn't help us."

"You could ask him..."

"What, walk up to Malfoy Manor door, socks in hand, and ask if he's seen a small ginger thief?"

"...yes?"

"No." Hermione huffed and collapsed on George's couch.

"Fine. We put the lost pile of socks in the front room, labeled one on top, and let the Weasley gossip network tell him where they are."

"And watch Crooks steal them again..." Hermione smiled again, but shook her head.

"We put tracking charms on the socks?"

"I give up, leave the socks in Harry's dresser, and move in here?"

"You know you're welcome. And you've been stressing about this. A break would be good for you."

"You just want to see Harry's face when he find's a sock labeled Malfoy in his drawer. Prankster."

"Especially since I know Gryffindor men tend to store their porn in their sock drawers."

"... You tell me this after I've spent two years sorting out your socks..."

"I'll just make up the spare room. You need a break." George made a strategic retreat.

^o.o^

Hermione took the floo back the Grimmauld, hid the socks in Harry's drawer, and left a note saying she was at George's until she could deal with Crooks habits and work at the same time.

George made lasagne. Hermione slept soundly.

Harry flooed through to check on her.

He wasn't wearing shoes.

Harry was wearing the socks.

"Harry James Potter, You did buy new socks and not label them! How could you? I've been worrying about those for two months! You even labeled one of them to have a go at me!"

Harry looked at his feet. "I didn't buy them. I didn't label them..."

"Then how the hell did they..."

Harry interrupted. "I have something to tell you. I've-" he took a deep breath and went on "I've been seeing Draco. I understand if you're annoyed and want to stay here with George..."

Hermione interrupted Harry this time. "Harry, I didn't leave because of you, or because of Draco. I left because I spend every spare moment of two months trying to figure out a mystery concerning socks. I was even taking over George's spare time. It was driving me crazy, I couldn't figure out how those socks were getting into the house."

"Um... Yeah, they were getting into the house on Malfoy's feet. And when he went to look for them in the morning, they'd be gone."

"Harry, I was convinced Crooks was flying to Wiltshire..."

Harry laughed. "No, Draco's been sneaking in the back door to see me. Crooks apparently decided he was okay, since he didn't attack..."

George spoke up. "Crooks apparently decided that you needed to tell us, though. I don't think he likes secrets, that cat."

Just then, the floo activated behind Harry. When the green flames died down, the furry ginger subject of their conversation walked over to George, and dropped a small black bundle of lace, mesh, and string at his feet. When George picked it up, Hermione managed to identify it as something her mother had bought her, for when she finally decided to catch a man.

All three of them moved at once. Harry said '"That's my cue to leave," and almost sprinted back to the floo. Hermione dropped her head and covered it with both hands, sure she could never look George in the eyes again. And George slowly walked over to her, and said "Mind if I keep this for a while. If I forget to return it every day, I can use it as an excuse to keep seeing you."

Hermione raised her head and snatched at the thong.

"You can see me every day if you wish. Just don't steal any clothing."

George smiled, and as he leaned in to kiss her, he whispered "Remind me to buy that cat some ice cream."

Hermione was laughing too hard to kiss him at all. They fixed that, eventually, but it seemed like a good start to a relationship with a prankster.