Work Text:
“Mum said that we should be keeping him away from all the baby things,” said Ron, but Hermione ignored him as she cooed down at Crookshanks asleep in the bassinet meant for their soon-to-be born daughter. “We should be keeping the nursery door close when we’re not in here.”
“This is his home too,” said Hermione and Ron rolled his eyes, reaching into the once persistent bassinet and pulling the overgrown orange cat out of it. Crookshanks meowed delicately, before jumping out of Ron’s arms and rubbing up against Hermione’s swollen ankles. It was almost as if he knew that Hermione should be sitting down, her feet up, sipping on some water or hot tea right now.
Ever since Hermione had found out that she was pregnant, though honestly about three weeks before then, Crookshanks had been incredibly protective of her. He had taken to following her around everywhere in their old flat, and continued on when they moved into their new house. He had always slept in their bed, but before it had been by their feet, not right by Hermione and on Ron’s face.
He cuddled up to Hermione everywhere, especially on the couch, purring against her stomach, especially when their little girl moved around.
“He’s a good boy,” said Hermione, her voice adoringly kind as she smiled down at the orange behemoth of a cat. “He loves our Rosie girl already.”
Ron sighed, he loved hearing Hermione say their daughter’s name with such sweetness, even if she was talking about the small beast that followed her everywhere.
“We should just be careful with him,” said Ron, gently pushing Hermione out of the nursery and to the stairs. He had the couch all set up for her, blankets ready for her to cuddle and pillows for her to be propped into. He would make her some tea while she read and he made dinner for the pair of them.
It was strange knowing that their days as a family of two were limited.
~`~
Crookshanks loved the little crying kitten, she was hairless except for the fuzz on top of her head and she smelled like his favorite cat, the one with the big hair and cooing voice. He especially enjoyed sleeping in the soft bed thing, his kitten did too, and he loved when her little paws held onto his fur.
She was a good little kitten, she cried sometimes, but she often quieted once his favorite cat came to care for her, or if he started purring. The spare cat, the one that liked to pick him up and put him on the cold ground, sometimes got his kitten to quiet down without him. But Crookshanks knew that he was a good papa, a good papa to his little kitten that he loved.
She always smelled of warm milk, and Crookshanks liked to clean it off of her, making her coo and laugh. Often he did it to help her sleep, she needed to be clean to sleep and she slept nearly as much as he liked too.
“You keeping her warm?” asked his favorite cat, her wild hair crazier than normal and her voice thick with exhaustion. Crookshanks meowed at her, telling her to go away and that he could look after his kitten. “You’re such a good uncle.”
Crookshanks watched as she picked up the kitten, smiling and cooing at her the same way she did towards him. He followed her with his eyes, purring as she sat down in the moving chair and pressed the kitten to her chest, purring herself as she held the little kitten in her arms. He jumped out of the bed, perfect for him and for his kitten, perfect for cuddles and to stay warm in, before walking the distance over to his cat and jumping up into her lap, guarding his cat and his kitten.
He began purring loudly, making sure his kitten knew that he was close and listening to her nurse happily, her own little meows coming loud and clear to his ears.
Crookshanks was a great papa to his kitten.
~`~
Ron sighed and ran a hand through his hair, Hermione was back to work today, leaving him with their daughter as was the plan. Rosie was the perfect little girl, so sweet and funny and kind, he had thought he knew love until Rosie was born, until he was holding her little wriggling body in his hands and looking down at her little face.
He thought that she looked like Hermione and whenever he imagined her older, as a toddler or child, he saw her with the same knowing look his wife always had. He saw her as an adolescence and teenager with a book in her hands and the same expectant smile as his Hermione.
“Look at you,” cooed Ron, smiling and bending down over the bassinet to pick her up. He always held her carefully in his arms, she was his whole world, the only thing in the world that mattered.
Then he heard the scratching, on the door to the nursery, then the meows.
“Oh shut up,” groaned Ron, before turning back to Rosie. He didn’t understand Crookshanks obsession with their daughter, the cat loved the nursery before they brought home Rosie, thinking that it was his room to make his own, but Ron didn’t like the idea of their daughter being alone with the cat. Crookshanks was about the same size as their little girl, with about ten pounds on her, most of it his fur.
Rosie let out a noise the same time Crookshanks began full on wailing outside the door.
“Fine,” grumbled Ron, opening the door to the nursery with Rosie against his chest. Her warm weight was a comfort he never knew he needed before. It was strange, he remembered holding Victoire for the first time, cradling her little head and body in his hands and knowing that he loved her as she was and would always love her.
But then came along James, then Freddie and Roxanne, and now his baby girl. The love he felt for his two nephews and two nieces, for his godchildren, even for Hermione, it all paled in comparison to his little Rosie girl.
“Meow,” said Crookshanks, and Ron ignored him as he sat down in the rocking chair Charlie got for them. He started feeding Rosie, ignoring Crookshanks as he jumped up onto his lap and started purring.
“This is not going to be the routine,” Ron told the cat, even as he relaxed into the chair and started scratching Crookshanks ears. He had perfected his hold on Rosie a week ago, balancing the bottle on his chest while holding her in one arm, carefully holding her head in the crook of his arm. “You’re not supposed to be in the nursery, I told Hermione that.”
Crookshanks just relaxed his body more, purring even louder as Ron moved his hand through his dense thick fur. He wondered if the cat would tolerate it if Ron started brushing him, like Hermione did on mornings when she didn’t need to rush to the office.
It was a little strange watching her go this morning, she had been a little teary eyed getting into the floo, but Ron had reassured her that he would be home all day, waiting for her. It had been the thing that made her leave, and Ron admittedly felt incredibly sad and alone without her around.
It wasn’t like Rosie was very difficult, she was already sleeping well and she was a great cuddlier. She didn’t mind being put down even if she loved being held, it was like she already knew that this was all new for her parents.
Ron did feel a bit strange not going to work with Hermione, but he wanted to stay at home with Rosie, Hermione would be miserable, she needed more work than caring for their daughter, more mental stimulation. She was a problem solver, Ron was a doer.
It also just made more sense for him to pull back his hours, they couldn’t rely on his parents to always watch Rosie and they didn’t want to put her into a daycare or hire a nanny. They had the savings and Hermione made enough that Ron’s Auror paycheck was more of something to use for fun things, or the diapers they were going through.
“Okay, come on,” said Ron, pushing Crookshanks off of him as he stood up and held Rosie in his arms. He paced the room as he gently patted her back to make her burp, then continued to pace and hum around the room to help her fall asleep.
He set the mobile above her crib, a gift from Hermione’s parents, it was admittedly kittens and different colored balls of yarn, but it played the same lullaby her father always sang to her. It was sweet, and Rosie loved to listen to the song as she fell asleep.
“No, no,” said Ron, setting the baby monitor and ushering Crookshanks out of the room as he closed the door behind him. Crookshanks looked up at him and then let out a single meow before scratching at the door, making it shake on its hinges. Ron sighed before picking him up and walking downstairs.
He put some food in Crookshanks dish and the cat stared at him before meowing again and heading out of the kitchen. Ron followed after him, chasing him back up to Rosie’s bedroom and taking him back downstairs.
He charmed the baby gate on the stairs to keep Crookshanks from going up the stairs, feeling the cat glare at him as he set the baby monitor down in the kitchen and made lunch.
~`~
Crookshanks sneaked into the kitten’s bedroom, jumping up into the walled bed and curling up as small as he could in the corner while the spare cat wasn’t looking. He would be upset if he got locked away from his kitten again, she needed him to protect her and sleep with and cuddle her.
The spare cat left, putting his little kitten down and Crookshanks purred as he curled himself up around her, tucking her into his fur. He felt her little paws knead and pull on him, and he purred louder, he liked this feeling.
He had a good kitten.
She began cooing as Crookshanks began bathing her, letting out her own little meows as he purred and bathed her again. She smelled like milk still, though he found some on her face and gently cleaned her, being careful.
Then he settled himself down to nap, he was a good papa, a good protector to his little kitten.
~`~
Ron sighed at the sight of Crookshanks and Rosie in the bassinet, he was growing tired of fighting against the cat, and admittedly Hermione who rolled her eyes at him whenever he brought up the cat.
He picked up Crookshanks and took him to the door, throwing him out before closing it and returning to his daughter. He carefully picked her up and went to the rocking chair as she started fussing, hungry.
“Meoooww!” cried Crookshanks from the other side of the door and then he started scratching, trying to get in. Ron groaned as Rosie pushed the bottle away and started crying louder, getting to his feet and started humming and pacing with her. “Mrrrreeeoooowww!”
“Oh shut up,” snapped Ron at the closed door, glaring at it and knowing that the damn cat was really being too much. “You’re not supposed to be all over her!”
“Meow! Meow!”
Ron rolled his eyes, and gently rubbed Rosie’s back as her sobs became full on wailing. He walked over to the wireless and flipped it on, letting the classical music channel fill the room, Hermione always kept it on that channel and Ron always made sure to set it back when he listened to the Cannon games on it. He would make sure Rosie knew the right team to root for when she got a little bigger.
“Meeeoooooooowwwww!”
Ron was about to curse the damn cat, when the door suddenly flew open and Crookshanks bounded in and up onto the window sill, then to his shoulders, reaching a paw out to pat Rosie’s wispy hair. Rosie stopped her crying immediately, and Ron just stared at her.
“Did you just….?” Ron asked his daughter, knowing that she couldn’t answer him, but he still walked over to the door, inspecting it. Crookshanks made himself comfortable on his shoulder, and started purring as Ron continued examining the door and then his baby girl. She was looking up at Crookshanks and cooing the same way Crookshanks was purring.
“Alright,” said Ron, sitting back down in the rocking chair, Crookshanks letting him use him as a pillow. “Well then I guess…oh fine Crooks, just give her a bit of space so you don’t suffocate her when you’re sleeping together.”
Crookshanks made a chirping noise in agreement and Ron sighed, reaching a hand put to scratch his ears.
~`~
Two Year Later
Crookshanks purred and rubbed up against the new little kitten’s feet, he was bigger than the first kitten when his cat and the spare brought her home. But he was fine with it, this one needed protecting just as much as the other.
“What say you, Crooks?” asked the spare cat, while Crookshanks rubbed his cheeks against the new kitten’s little claws, “Hugo just as cuddly as Rosie?”
Crookshanks purred louder, and then jumped off the spare’s lap as he stood up and put the new kitten down in the bed, the same one his first kitten used. It smelled like her still, and like Crookshanks, which meant soon enough it could smell like the new kitten.
He jumped up, landing carefully at the edge of the bed and relaxing down beside his new kitten and resting his head on it’s stomach. He felt the new kitten put a paw into his fur and he started purring louder than before, letting the new kitten know he was here and ready to protect.
“Be a good protector to Hugo, alright now?” said the spare, and Crookshanks looked up at him for a moment before resting his head back down and closing his eyes as the new kitten fell asleep.
Crookshanks was a good papa to his kittens.