FIC--Cats Rule, Dogs Drool

[ficsbydeenas]

Title: Cats Rule, Dogs Drool
Rating: PG13 for swearing
Pairing: Ron and Hermione, Harry and Ginny
Other Characters: Crookshanks and Marmalade
Summary: Cat meets dog. Cat fights with dog. Cat doesn't like dog...
Beta: gwen1170
Author Note: This was written for my dear friend oncelikeshari and is set in her "Lost for Words" World. In this world, Ron is mute due to Harry being under the Imperious Curse and being controlled by Voldemort. Marmalade is Ron's specially-trained dog, a beautiful Golden Retriever. You don't have to read the previous stories to understand this one, but it sure would make Shari happy. They can be found here: solstice_fics.




Cats Rule…Dogs Drool

++++


"C'mere, Crookshanks! Get out from underneath that bed this instant!"

I rearrange my legs again and peek out through the space between the floor and the bed frame. I'm not moving. She'll have to physically remove me from my spot.

"Ron, I don't think that's going to help."

Why is he here?

"No, I am not going to leave him here. He's my pet just as much as Marmalade is yours."

Pet? I am no one's pet.

And since when has Freckles had a pet? The rat's gone…

I still can't believe she called me a pet.

She should know better.

All day, Miss has been flitting around her room packing her trunks and putting her books in boxes. I watched, at first from the top of the bookcase. Once the shelves were empty, I moved to the wardrobe and watched her pack her clothes. Once that was done, I knew it was my turn to be packed next. And I am not going in that basket with the lace anymore. I hate that basket. It’s undignified and I look silly in that.

So here I am, under her bed while she tries to coax me out of my spot.

"Mummy's going, ‘Shanks. You need to go with me." Her face appears in front of me and I begin to purr. She is a good one, my Miss. She has always given me a wide berth, and for that I will always be grateful.

But I draw the line at the lace-covered basket. That's just not right.

NO! Someone grabs me from behind and I begin sliding backwards across the carpet. My claws scratch frantically, but the hands are strong. I turn around to look at my captor.

Freckles.

He smiles like a big dope at me.

His dopey smile is the last thing I see as I am stuffed in the blasted basket.

+++++

The lid of the basket lifts and I am temporarily blinded. I hear someone's fast breathing and a terrible smell that is completely foreign to me.

I finally focus my eyes and see a muzzle and a big black nose.

A dog? Who the bloody hell is this and why am I in the same place as this flea-ridden bag of fur?

"Leave," I tell it.

I am accosted by the nose again.

Wonderful. Either this animal is stupid or has no idea what courteous conversation entails.

It looks at me with the same dopey eyes that Freckles does.

Stupid. Dogs are just plain stupid.

"So I see you two have met already!"

Miss comes over and lifts me out of my basket, cuddling me in her arms. She bends down with me and I am nose to nose with the beast.

"Crookshanks, this is Marmalade. Marmalade, this is Crookshanks. You two be nice now." She ruffles my head.

"Marmalade…" I growl, but soft enough that Miss doesn't notice.

The beast licks me.

Disgraceful. Clearly, this is a Weasley dog. No manners, that one.

I swat the beast in the nose and he yelps.

"Crookshanks!" Miss scolds at me and I wiggle out of her arms. The dog gives chase and we tear off through the kitchen, knocking over chairs as I run and engage the enemy.

I dash through the unfamiliar rooms and find what appears to be the living room and people I recognize. Scar and Flame are sitting on a sofa, smiling at me. I've always liked Scar, and eagerly leap into his lap, claws extended and glaring at the beast. I hiss again.

The dog barks at me. I wish I would have paid more attention to Padfoot's conversation now, because I really want to tell him what is really going on my in my mind.

"Marmalade!" Scar orders, but the dog continues to bark. I dig in my claws, defending my friend from attack. "Crookshanks! That hurt!"

Flame giggles and shoos me off my spot on Scar's lap.

Marmalade keeps barking and I see Freckles come up behind the dog, waving his hands and wearing a scowl that meant business.

"No, Ron, Crookshanks is NOT leaving!"

He said something?

Wonderful. Two languages I have to figure out now: Dog and Flailing Freckles.

+++++

They left me. I can't believe they left me here, under the bed, with that uncouth beast as the only other living thing here.

This should be an interesting day.

I make my way cautiously out from under the bed Miss shares with Freckles and look around the room, hoping that my guess is wrong and that he's taken The Beast with him. I sniff and find none of the offensive odour, encouraging me to come completely out from under the bed.

I head toward the door and a horrible stench fills my nostrils.

Damn.

Now, generally, I don't swear. Miss has taught me better than that. But there are times when a cat has to do what a cat has to do. Swearing is reserved for dire situations. Like the time Scabbers came back. Or the time Hedwig thought it would be fun to take me flying. Or the time Flame took Arnold away from me when I was ready for a snack.

So I swore. I lose control on occasion and think I am entitled to lose my temper once in a while. After all, Miss doesn't understand so she cannot scold me like she does Freckles.

The dog is coming, its big feet making thumping noises on the carpet. All too soon, he stands in front of me, eagerly panting and wagging the bush he calls a tail.

Marmalade happily yips at me and begins to push a rubber ball at me.

I roll my eyes. Marmalade has no idea that I'm a cat or that cats don't play with dogs.

"No. I don't play," I remind him coolly, hoping he'll get the message and get out of my way. I begin to make my way to the door and then he barks at me.

I hiss and bat his nose.

He whimpers.

This dog is not worthy of a Gryffindor!

He barks again and then leaps at me.

I let out a severe admonishment and tear out of the room. The dog, of course, gives chase, barking at me as I lead him through the flat. I dodge under chairs, between table legs and underneath the sofa. Whatever I do, the beast follows me.

For a hefty chap, he sure is acrobatic.

Kind of like Freckles.

I find an opening and leap onto the bookshelf by the window, careful not to knock over the pictures, and finally settle on the tip-top and look down at Marmalade.

From my perch, I cringe as I see the battlefield: dining chairs toppled over, newspapers strewn across the floor, the coat tree lying against the door frame. It's not my fault; I'm small and that blasted dog is HUGE.

He continues barking and thumping his tail on the floor. I mirror his stance by fluffing my tail and twitching it angrily.

It's a battle of wits and I refuse to battle with an unarmed opponent.

I don't know how long I stayed up there, but by the time the door opened, it was dark

"What the bloody hell happened here?" Scar must be home. That means Freckles is, too, and he's the only one who can control that damn dog.

Yes, I am swearing again. The dog is completely barking mad. Yes, the pun is intentional. Because of him, I missed my afternoon nap in the little square of sunshine by the fireplace as well as my pre-dinner nap on the telly that sits in the corner of the room. I also missed my trip to the litter box.

My day is a shambles.

"Marmalade! Crookshanks! Where the hell are you?"

These are the times I wish Scar was mute, too. He's making me guilty by association, and I am the victim here. I like him, but really needs to lighten up. He didn't even discipline Hedwig when she tried to take me into the air. All he did was pull me out of the clutches of the bird of prey without so much as a kiss or a "shame on you, Hedwig." He was lucky that Miss wasn't there. She'd have given him a piece of her mind and made him feel guilty like a good mother should.

But no. I'm at fault.

Freckles stands below me and makes the sign for…what?

I am not a "fucking cat"!

+++++

"Ronald! Look what your dog just did!" Miss stands in the doorway to the bedroom and points at the floor. I jump down from my perch on the telly and creep over to her, rubbing against her legs.

Freckles lets out a huff and begins moving his hands again. I can't make out what he's saying from this angle, but it can't be good. Miss is scowling. I don't like it when she scowls.

"Crookshanks would not do anything of the sort, and you know it! It was your DOG!"

I continue to purr and rub against her, giving her the affection she so deserves.

I must confess something. Freckles is right. It was me. I cannot speak human or Flailing Freckles, and this is the only way that I can let them know I don't like the situation. So I urinated on the floor. It's not that big of a deal. All I have to do is look cute and blame the dog. Then the dog will have to leave. That's the plan, and my plans never fail.

I smile as I listen to Miss trying to convince him that Marmalade is the culprit.

Anytime now…

"What?"

Oh dear. Her voice is too soft. He's convinced her.

I watch as Freckles' fingers form the numbers four and five while his head gestures towards the dog.

"And he went?" Freckles nods.

I watch him tell her that the dog's been sleeping for a half hour.

As if on cue, the colour drains from her face and she turns to me, looking angrier than I have ever seen her.

"Bad kitty!"

I mew like a kitten and give her my poor old me look. She's scowling again. I watch as she leaves the hallway and returns shortly with a rag and a spray bottle. I continue to watch as Miss scrubs the floor and says some very creative things.

Freckles, surprisingly enough, goes over to help her finish with the floor, and with the hand movements I've come to realize mean 'I'm sorry, Hermione," leans over and nuzzles her neck. She's smiling at him now and hands him the cleaning supplies, which he easily sends to the kitchen cupboard.

It happens quickly. They kiss again and soon I have to turn away in order to avoid watching them mate. In an effort to get them to stop, I meow loudly. The only thing that happens is that Marmalade's ears perk up; he's awake now.

He barks, hopefully understanding the comment I made to them as they continue to writhe on the floor.

Maybe he's not so dumb after all.

He barks again and I meow back. We ping-pong back and forth, getting louder with each round.

This is more fun than catnip.

Finally, they notice us. With a rude gesture that I know Freckles knew before his accident, he picks up Miss and they leave the room. I have to give Freckles credit, though; he does know how to settle Miss down.

+++++

A few days later, Freckles is wearing a constant scowl. He is hunched over and never meets Miss' eyes when she looks at him. They'd had another row, and it was, as usual, about the dog.

Well, not entirely about the dog.

Maybe I was mentioned.

A little.

Fine, it was about Marmalade and me.

Miss, Freckles, Flame and Scar were sitting in the living room playing that exploding card game. It always scared me and this time, there was an explosion that startled me immensely. I leapt onto Miss' lap and caused her to spill her drink, which caused Freckles to try and clean it up, which caused him to hit his head on the table, causing him to swear silently, making Scar laugh and Flame snort in a most irritating way.

Because of all this, Marmalade thought it was play time and jumped upon Freckle's lap, making him fall off the couch and hit his head again. Marmalade washed his face and then barked at me, making me hiss at him.

I attempted to swat him and then he lunged at me, sending Miss and I off the sofa before he gave chase. I ran away as fast as I could, darting about the room. I ran under tables, between legs and around furniture. All the while, the big beast kept after me.

When it was all finished, there were two broken chairs, a knocked over container of Floo powder and numerous books flung helter skelter about the room. Scar was trying to calm Freckles down, who was now bleeding from the cut on his head and Miss was livid over the mess that we'd made of her living room. I watched from the safety of my perch on the bookshelf.

"Ron, that's it! That dog…"

Freckles waved his hands maniacally, and I am surprised that anyone could understand what he was saying.

"I don't think that Hermione wants to chuck him, do you, Hermione?" Scar yelled.

I never noticed this before, but when he's angry, the scar on his forehead gets all red and the skin around it crinkles in a funny way.

Interesting.

Where was I?

Oh yes…

"I just don't think that a dog that size…"

Hands waved again, fingers moved and I got dizzy watching the whole thing.

"No!"

I watched his fingers and at the words 'old' and 'die', Miss took off for the bedroom and Flame took off after her.

Since that day, the tension has been palpable. Marmalade no longer bounds into a room. Freckles mopes about the flat while Miss has become tetchy and silent. A silent Miss is not a happy Miss.

I've had enough of everyone's attitude and I silently approach Marmalade and sit in front of him, trying not to aggressively swish my tail.

"Maramalade…"

He pants, but I think he understands.

"Truce?"

He raises his head and his ears perk up.

"For them. Please."

He settles his head down on his front paws, which are lying before him, as if he is thinking about my request.

"WOOF!"

He leaps up and nudges me toward the sitting room, where Miss and Freckles are listening to a Quidditch match on the WWN. I follow him, curious as to what he has up his paw.

Instead of going to Freckles, as is his custom, he heads toward Miss and places his head on her lap, looking up at her with his big, dark eyes.

I follow his example and leap into Freckles' lap, kneading his thighs to find a spot to lie down. I settle myself in his lap and turn on the charm by purring loudly. He reaches out and scratches me behind the ears, making me turn on my side in a wave of pleasure.

I look over at Miss and Marmalade, who is now in her lap, and notice that she looks a lot happier than she has been the last few days. The dog looks up and begins licking her face, making her giggle, a sound that I haven't heard enough lately.

Freckles picks me up and heads over to the sofa, joining Miss and the dog. We settle in next to them and Miss leans into his chest, causing Marmalade to slide toward me.

Our humans gasp at our contact, as if the expected us to have another chase. I steeled myself against my natural instinct to bolt when the most unexpected thing happened.

The dog licked me.

And I licked him back.