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It was later than Hermione would like to admit. She’d been sitting up in bed reading, the gentle glow from her wand tip bright enough to illuminate parchment, but dim enough to let Draco sleep. Just one more chapter, she’d kept telling herself.
Until the entire book was accidentally read.
“Nox,” she whispered, sliding down to burrow into the comforter.
This was the sort of signal Crookshanks recognized. His witch was no longer distracted and he knew she would give him her full attention. He was immediately on her, first making a chirping noise as he landed, then purring as if his life depended on it, beginning to gently knead the blanket over her.
Hermione smiled, rubbing his head and chin the way he liked. If she paused for even a moment, a gentle head butt against her hand coerced a reestablished rhythm. He rolled over, showing her his belly, expecting a full body rub. The unwavering trust he only displayed with her never ceased to melt her heart.
“Who’s a good boy?” she cooed at her handsome cat.
A sleepy voice next to her replied, “I am.”
She snorted and faltered in her stroking of the cat, earning her a baleful look and the discontinuation of the purring.
Draco rolled over towards her and without opening his eyes mumbled, “Propositioning me, then laughing? That’s not very nice.”
“I wasn’t—”
“Let me prove what a good boy I can be,” he said, reaching to pull her towards him. Unfortunately for Draco, rather than a pliant hip, it was a cat’s claws he connected with. And instead of a softly moaned reply, his overture was met with a hiss.
“Are you okay?” Hermione asked, already knowing the answer when Draco muttered a curse. The four red claw marks across the back of his hand when he lit his wand cemented her assumption.
“You weren’t talking to me earlier,” he stated, eyes narrowed at Crookshanks, who still laid between them. The cat's ears were flattened and the tip of his tail twitched.
Hermione shook her head, pursing her lips in an effort to hold in a laugh.
Rolling out of bed, Draco went to the bathroom, the cat’s eyes following him the entire way. Rattling noises floated out, as he was no doubt looking for the essence of dittany in their potions cabinet. “You still think he’s a good boy?” he called from the other room.
Crookshanks looked up, butted his head against her, and began purring again.
Scritch, scritch, scritch.
“Do you hear something?”
Rather than answering her breathy question, he slid the hand that had been gripping her thigh up along the curve of her stomach and pinched a pebbled nipple. She gasped, all attention back on him.
His tongue didn’t cease its circling and lapping against her clit as he caught her gaze in his. He pinched and pulled at her nipple, the rhythm mimicking the slow drag of his long fingers on his other hand— in and out, in and out. The fluttering around his fingers said she was close. Her panting and moans almost drowned out the next noise.
Mrrreowwww…
“Crooks?” She looked towards their closed bedroom door, shattering the moment.
Groaning, he paused in his ministrations and turned his head to see an orange paw swiping its way under the door.
A pitiful cry answered his mistress’ call.
“Don’t even think about it,” he tried to tell her, although he suspected it was hopeless. The cat knew it had been heard and now there wasn’t any backing out. That didn’t mean he couldn’t try to best his antogonist. “Ignore him,” Draco commanded her and renewed his efforts.
“Mmmm,” Hermione moaned. But Draco knew it was half-hearted as the scratching ramped up from outside the room.
He’d tried to prepare for the cock block. There had been offerings left out for the beast. Canned salmon on a fancy saucer. Not one, but two gaudy antique urns he didn’t particularly care for brought over from the manor, placed on the mantle for the cat to knock over and break. He thought it would buy him enough time from the cat’s unfathomable hatred of him. Draco had even left a book on the coffee table regarding Crup breeding for Crookshanks to ruin, just in case.
Whereas before, Hermione had been writhing, she was nearly perfectly still. “I think—”
“I get it.” He pushed up onto his knees, upset this was now going nowhere, while his still hard cock hadn’t quite gotten the message. “Your attention isn’t really on this anymore.”
“I just can’t, you know," she dropped her voice, "ignore him.”
“You don’t need to explain the ruined mood to me. I understand how difficult it already is for you to turn off that ever moving brain of yours.” He smiled at her, hoping his true, full ire didn’t show.
“I could still…” she slid up against the headboard, looked down at his slowly flagging erection, and arched her brow.
A loud meow accompanied renewed scratching on the door.
Draco sighed and gestured at the door. “You’d better let him in before he ruins that wood, too.”
“Who’s got a new toy?” Hermione’s sing-songed at Crookshanks while bandying the stuffy at him. He focused on it with interest. She threw it down the hall and it bounced just out of her sight. He growled and ran after it. “That’s right, you show that mean, nasty rat who’s the boss.”
There was the sound of padded feet running, thumping, and a protracted noise of the cat skidding on the wood floor. He reappeared shortly with it in his mouth. Trying not to giggle, Hermione watched as he rolled on his side and began to attack the rat with his hind paws, scratching at its back end while the head was still clenched between his teeth.
“I think he really likes it!” She watched the cat for another moment. He flipped over, releasing the toy for a second before he pounced on it again. “Or hates it. Either way, I think we’re good.”
“Did you cover it with catnip?” Draco’s voice came from their room.
“Of course I did.”
“And we’re really going to leave the door open?”
“The door closing would just tip him off.” She walked in to find him lounging on the bed already naked. She ran her eyes down his chest and abs, tracing the light scars there, down to where his hand was slowly stroking along his length. “Eager are you?”
“We only get to shag when the overlord allows it.” He shrugged, trying to affect an innocent look, but his darkened eyes and the hint of smirk spoke more of sin. “Apparently the notion that he’s going to possibly leave us alone is enough to get me going.” His gaze raked her body and he licked his lips. “Now strip for me.”
His voice was like nectar and she was the bee drawn to it. Slowly, she began slipping buttons through their holes on her blouse, watching how his eyes tracked down her sternum at each stop. She shrugged it off, then teased him by slipping first one bra strap off a shoulder, followed by the other. Instead of reaching behind herself to unsnap it, she left it, her fingers ghosting along her breasts, then dipping lower towards the button on her jeans.
A thud from the kitchen reached her ears, but she didn’t falter in sliding the zipper down.
“Good girl.” His silky voice slid over her, raising goosebumps in its wake. “Turn around while you take those off.”
She did as he told her, shimmying the tight material over her arse, bending forward to slide her jeans down her thighs to her calves. After stepping out of them, she darted a glance towards the doorway. No glimpse of any orange fur.
Looking over her shoulder at Draco, she reached behind her to unclasp her bra and let it drop to the floor, leaving her in only a pair of lacy knickers. Still with her back to him, she ran her hands along her hips, gently squeezing, then slid them higher until she was cupping her breasts, thumbs flicking her nipples. His hand stopped moving and he gripped the base of his cock, her name leaving his lips on a moan. Hermione’s core thrummed and she rubbed her thighs together.
“Get over here, you minx.”
She turned to face him, but didn’t immediately move to follow his command. “What about these?” she asked, hooking her thumbs in the waistband of her knickers, teasing them downwards, but not taking them off fully.
“Leave them on for now.”
At the foot of the bed, she got up and crawled between his legs, coming to hover over where he still held his cock, pointing it up in invitation. Darting her tongue out, she wet her lips, then lowered them down to the ruddy tip. She taunted him with barely there kisses and licks, feeling his heartbeat in the thick vein along the underside, watching his stomach tense, listening for his sharp intakes of breath.
With his free hand, he gathered her hair, holding it tightly at the base of her neck, keeping it back from her face. It was as she slid her mouth around him, sucking him in, and humming lightly that heard him whisper, “Get out of here, you bastard.” But when she attempted to look, his grip wouldn’t allow enough movement to see the doorway.
That didn’t stop her from hearing the cat’s tread and the thunk of the toy dropping. Wanting Draco’s attention on her and not the cat, she began to bob her head in earnest. Hollowing her checks on the downstroke, laving with her tongue on the upstroke, then circling his head. Light thrusts up from his hips began meeting her on the way down. She looked up and found him watching her.
Yoowwlll!
Draco’s hips stopped moving when he looked away, and he made a choking sound. Confused and not sure what to do, she paused with him halfway down her throat. She stared at Draco for a cue, but his eyes were trained on the door.
YYYOOOOWLLLL!
Why was Crookshanks making that sound? And was Draco… laughing?
She pulled upwards and his hand slid out of her hair so she could finally turn and see—
“Oh my god.”
Draco was now shaking with laughter while Hermione stared in shock at her cat humping the stuffed rat.
Crookshanks let out another loud moaning howl.
“What is he doing?!”
“I think that’s fairly obvious,” Draco said between chuckles.
Hermione felt her face heat up and she huffed. “I meant why?”
“Because he’s trying to prove he can do anything I can do? Marking his territory?” Draco rolled his eyes. “Or the most likely answer is because he’s a dick.”
Laughter bubbled up her throat. Whatever the cat’s reasoning, the earlier mood in the room was effectively ruined by him hunched over the rat clutched between his front paws, giving it to the toy at a frantic pace.
Crookshanks gazed unblinkingly at Draco from where he sat in the middle of the bed.
“Look, I don’t know why you don’t want her to be happy. I’m pretty sure you do. And you need to understand that I make her happy. And that sometimes that happiness entails... certain activities.” Merlin, he was talking to the cat like it understood him. Except he was fairly certain it did.
He paced back and forth across the bedroom, debating with himself on his next move. In for a Sickle, in for a Galleon, he decided.
“Promise you won’t pull one of your weird things where somehow you open a drawer or door when we aren’t home and ruin this?”
The cat raised a hind paw, flicked it over his ear three times, then sat still again. What sort of answer was that?
“Okay, I guess that’s a maybe?” Draco ran his hand through his hair and stared back at the cat. When Crookshanks finally blinked, Draco pulled his wand from his pocket.
“Accio Hermione’s engagement ring.”
A rustle sounded from the closet and a small box flew to his hand from where he’d hidden it in a trouser pocket. He took a deep breath and snapped the lid open, turning it towards the cat. A vintage art deco ring sat nestled in velvet. In the middle was a deep blue sapphire, surrounded by diamonds within a white gold setting.
Crookshanks stood up and came to the edge of the bed.
“She makes me happier than I have ever felt and I’m going to do everything in my power to spend the rest of my life making sure she feels the same.” Draco gazed down at the ring and smiled, imagining it on her finger. He was surprised by a muffled thump and then Crookshanks rubbing on his leg.
The beast was… purring? He’d never done that before in response to anything Draco did. He stood very still, gaping at the cat in astonishment, the ring in his hand hanging limply at his side.
“Right. So, we’re in agreement then?”
The cat stopped and sat beside him, looking up at him with that same unnerving look from earlier.
“Here’s the deal then. I’m planning to propose on Saturday. I plan to celebrate her saying ‘yes’ with more than one round of shagging. Think you can stay out of our way?”
Crookshanks meowed once, then turned and walked away, tail straight up in the air.
“Hey! What does that mean?”