Chapter Text

THE CATS

Severus Snape

If there was one thing about Hogwarts that Severus would never fully accept, it was the Merlin-forsaken cats.

It wasn’t necessarily that he disliked cats. In fact, compared to many other choices, Severus would say he was partial to cats. They were relatively clean, self-sufficient, and useful. They tended to keep to themselves and were generally wary of strangers, which meant they didn’t often attempt to foist themselves upon the unwilling.

At least, that had been his impression of cats before he met one of the magical persuasion. The ones he encountered at Hogwarts were often frighteningly intelligent, persistently mischievous, and chronic wanderers. 

As a student, he hadn’t paid them much mind. They were pets; belonging to other students, and therefore, not his responsibility. As a professor, they took on a rather different cast. 

No longer could he simply pass the creatures disinterestedly. No, now that he had duties and responsibilities, it was his obligation to examine each one for its magical identification, to be sure it indeed belonged to a student and wasn’t an enterprising stray, and that it wasn’t carrying on, spreading unchecked fleas and diseases to the student pet populace. For his own peace of mind, he would often additionally check they weren’t breeding.

Having free roam of a large castle, full of the expected rats and mice, as well as the grounds to stalk and prey upon, the Hogwarts feline population settled firmly into two camps; the fat, indulgent menaces, and the lithe, predatory hunters. 

During his evening rounds, Severus encounters one of the beasts. Black, with a sleek build and luscious fur that spoke to a life of satiation. It was hopping along the stone sills of the high windows that lined the upper levels of the dungeon, barely visible against the black sky if it weren’t for the glow of its bright yellow eyes.

“Hello, pest,” he sneered, already sliding his wand tiredly from its holster. It peered at him with little interest, but stopped and sat back on its haunches expectantly. Severus had never been very adept at identifying which of the cats were kneazles, part-kneazles or simply domestics, but undue intelligence dancing behind the eyes was a common enough indicator of magical heritage that he felt safe to assume this one belonged in their number.

With a wave of his wand, Severus brought up the Hogwarts pet registry, and compared the signatures to the one emitted by the cat above him. “‘Shadow’,” he said mockingly. “How droll.” He eyed the cat in disgust before moving on. 

Before he’d taken even ten more steps, he spotted another one. This one was cream-coloured, with round green eyes and a bottlebrush for a tail. It meowed at him pleasantly, and he sighed, halting in his motion to stow his wand.

He resummoned the registry and scanned the list. “Magdalene,” he mused aloud. The aforementioned cat squeaked and approached, rubbing against his slacks and shedding all over the black pressed wool, stark in its colour differential. “None of that,” he muttered, shaking his leg to try and dislodge her. 

He didn’t even manage a single step before he looked up, noticing that not only had Shadow followed him down the corridor, but he was now joined by a nondescript grey tabby, both of which were blinking at him. Severus growled his frustration, and attempted to identify the new cat.

“Mugwump Meow’?” he grit out in disgust. “Of all the imbecilic—” He was cut short by the emission of a second magical signature from the cat beside it — the one he had, apparently, mistaken for Shadow. Shadow himself appeared, as if summoned by thought, and sat next to its twin. “Oh for—” he sighed, the hand clutching the parchment dropping to his side in defeat. “Yes, yes, hello ‘Silhouette’.” He glared at Shadow. “You could have mentioned you had an identical sister,” he groused. Shadow simply blinked at him.

“Alright, move along, all of you,” Severus said declaratively. “No loitering in the corridors. You all may be crepuscular, but I am aspirationally diurnal and would appreciate at least some respite this night.”

“Professor?”

Severus froze mid-motion. How in the world hadn’t he noticed someone sneaking up on him? Slowly, Severus turned on his heel and came face-to-face with the baffled expressions of Gemma Farley and Lysander Orpington, presumably catching them on their way back to the common room at the conclusion of their rounds. 

Behind him, Magdalene meowed rather sweetly. Severus cleared his throat. “Good evening, Ms. Farley, Mr. Orpington. Uneventful patrol, I presume?”

“Mostly,” Farley said dryly, her eyes flicking momentarily down to his ankles, where Severus could feel the little cream terror winding between them. 

“No Slytherin problems,” Orpington clarified with a quick, sharp look at his colleague. “Just a few Hufflepuffs mucking about near the kitchens.” As usual, the boy looked positively exhausted, and Severus had to wonder whether it was entirely genuine at this point, or more something of a habit. Farley looked disgustingly awake for the time of evening.

“Very good,” Severus said stiffly. He tipped his nose up and made a sweeping dismissive gesture. “I have already seen to the Potion corridors. You may retire.”

The two didn’t exchange looks, per se, but he felt the hesitation where they felt for each other’s reactions before accepting the dismissal. 

“Have a good evening, Professor,” Orpington said formally.

“Night, sir,” Farley chirped, daring to wink at him. 

They moved to pass, only for both to, in sync, pause when they drew level with him. 

“Goodnight, Magdalene,” Orpington said, sounding equally formal as he had with Severus. He gave the cat a polite nod, which she responded to with one of those little meows, refusing to budge from around the professor’s ankles, even in the face of her owner.

“Nighty-night, Mister Mugwump Meow!” Farley cooed, even stretching up to reach him on the windowsill and scratch behind his ears. The creature hissed at her, but Farley grinned like it was a display of affection. 

“Leave him alone,” Orpington muttered under his breath, seizing her elbow to drag her away. “Octavian is already so mad his dad let Violetta name him—”

“But he’s so adorable!”

The pair disappeared around a corner without a backwards glance. Mugwump Meow looked highly affronted and hissed at Severus when he turned to look. “Don’t take out your unfortunate nominary circumstances on me,” Severus drawled.

With a haughty hiss, Mugwump Meow turned tail and continued to stalk down the corridor, Shadow following close behind. Perhaps they were united in their lack of dignified names.

Severus, for his part, straightened his robes and sniffed. He was not embarrassed to have been caught conversing with cats. It was common knowledge both kneazles and mundane cats, as familiars, were highly intelligent and often understood when spoken to. It wasn’t as if he was saying anything scandalous either, simply telling the creatures to move on. 

No, Severus thought firmly. There was no need for him to be worried about this event spreading as gossip. It was a completely uninteresting event, giving neither Farley or Orpington a reason to tell anyone. Even if they did, it was so utterly inane and unimportant that the tale would likely fizzle and die long before it could spread anywhere damaging—of which there were no such places, of course, since there was nothing at all compromising about the situation.

Severus continued to delude himself all the way back to his quarters.

When, the next day, a sixth year dared to meow at him, Severus simply told the boy that if he wished to join the felines, he would be happy to facilitate a transfer to Gryffindor. He would certainly fit in, what with all that courage.

There was no more meowing after that.

Considering from then on he stumbled across far more felines on his patrols, it appeared the one demographic that had heard the gossip and found something worth spreading was the Merlin-forsaken cats.