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The Soul Mate Law	By : CeliaEquus Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female Views: 25497 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I have no claim on the Harry Potter franchise, and am making no money from any of my fan fiction.

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“After the Honeymoon”

Still a bit sore around the neck, especially the back, Hermione fell onto her bed. Their bed. In their apartment.

“Ready so soon?” Crookshanks asked, eyeing his wife as he placed the luggage on the floor. He enlarged the bags to their true size.

“For what?” she said, glancing over at him. He smirked, eyes glittering.

“Well…” He shrugged off his light robes and began to approach her. “While I am certain, my dear, that you are now carrying, I have no objection to…”

“Oh!” She sat up quickly. “N-no. I didn’t mean… I wasn’t expecting to, uh…” His shoulders dropped and she back-tracked. “But I don’t have any objections, either.”

Crookshanks grinned, and then pounced on his wife. Hermione giggled as he began to tickle her. Her laughter was cut off when he pressed his lips to hers.

Kissing was something that Crookshanks found he enjoyed very much. Human lips were able to do so much more than cat lips. Hermione’s tongue was so soft and smooth and her teeth were nice and blunt. He knew that his own teeth were still comparatively sharp, and his tongue was rougher than a human tongue; but, judging by Hermione’s reactions whenever he was licking or biting her skin, she had no problems with this.

He purred as he pulled back and nuzzled her cheek.

“Being human is turning out to be quite a good thing,” he said. She moaned and pressed up against his body. He grinned as he bit her earlobe and his hands went to the bottom of her summery dress. The material scrunched up easily in his grasp as he pushed it up her body. “And yet clothing is most sincerely overrated.”

“Uh-huh,” she agreed weakly.

“Purr for me, Hermione.”

She raised her head to look at him. “What?”

He smirked at her, his face disappearing from view as he pulled the dress over her head. Next to go was her bra and then her knickers; still he remained silent. It wasn’t until he had flipped her onto her stomach that he spoke.

“Purr for me,” he repeated. He pushed his fingers into her while he gently ran his nails down her spine. It continued to amaze him just how greatly this affected her; her back arched and there was a gush of warmth between her legs, trickling down his hand. He kept pumping, coaxing little cries out of her.

“Oh, Crookshanks!” she gasped, thrusting back. His thumb was circling her clit, the nail occasionally pressing into the delicate skin, while his other hand scratched her back, sending delightful shivers through her body. She heard a whispered spell, and his fingers were soon replaced by something much better.

“Not until I get a purr,” he said when she tried to impale herself on him. “You can do it. Just vibrate your throat muscles. Please, mistress.” He pressed his nose into the back of her neck, determined to mark her yet again. “Do it for me.”

“Um… okay,” she said. Her mind was fuzzy, but she desperately wanted him inside her. Making sure that her throat was moist enough she purred. No sooner had she started that he thrust in. She yelped.

“That’s it,” he said, rocking against her backside. “What a good little pussy you are.”

Hermione buried her face in the pillow, mewling between heavy breaths. Crookshanks pushed in again, loving this position. It was just natural for him, and it gave him a feeling of power over his mate… that is, his wife. And she enjoyed it.

“Crooks,” she said, and she purred again. This time she didn’t have to put any effort into it. “Keep going.” He obliged, placing a light kiss between her shoulder blades.

Just as both were nearing completion she pushed her hair away from her neck, knowing how much it pleased her husband to bite her. In truth, she felt a little thrill each time, too, and this morning – despite the bruises and teeth marks – she wanted to be marked yet again. Sure enough, seconds before he exploded Crookshanks clamped his jaw down on the back of her neck, his grip tightening as Hermione clenched around him.

As they lay panting she snuggled into his arms, hooking a leg over his. This was actually their favourite part; tired bodies pressed against each other, lungs grasping for more air, warm in the embrace. They didn’t love each other; not like that. But, for the time being, they were content.

Harry and Ginny were working on their wedding plans when Hermione and Crookshanks visited.

“Hi!” Ginny exclaimed, jumping up. She and Hermione embraced, nearly in tears. “Oh, how was it? Did you have fun? Did you take lots of pictures? Thanks for the postcard!”

“Hello, dear,” Molly said, carrying in a platter of cheese and biscuits. She kissed Hermione’s forehead. “Ginevra, settle down. How are you, Hermione?”

“Fine, thanks,” she said. Crookshanks and Harry were shaking hands and talking quietly. “Yes, we took some photos. And it was… good.” She turned bright red, thinking about that very morning’s spontaneous activity. “Very good.”

“Arthur and I enjoyed our honeymoon, too,” Molly said. Ginny turned green.

“Thanks, Mum,” she muttered. “Hello, Crookshanks. How are you?”

Hermione and Harry hugged each other tightly while the others talked.

“You’re okay?” he asked quietly.

“Yeah,” she said, smiling at him. “I really am, Harry. Uh, are Ron and Millicent going to be joining us?”

“Yep,” he said as they sat down on the couch. Ginny resumed her seat beside her fiancé while Molly and Crookshanks sat in the armchairs opposite. Harry had bought and fixed up the old Potter house in Godric’s Hollow, and Ginny would be moving in with him after the wedding. (The Weasleys had been very clear about that.) “I don’t know when they’re going to tie the knot, though.”

“I don’t know how they ended up being soul-mates,” Ginny remarked. “Maybe there was something wrong with the door?”

“Seemed to work well,” Crookshanks said, arching an eyebrow and then looking at Harry pointedly. Ginny blushed.

“You know what I mean,” she said. “Ron hated the thought of marrying a Slytherin.”

“He even said that while we were in line,” Harry said. “Remember, Hermione?”

“Mmm,” she agreed, her Thinking Face on. “And you mentioned the Sorting Hat. Perhaps his conscious thought…” Her eyes widened. “No. No; the Ministry wouldn’t make a mistake like that.”

“I wouldn’t put it past the Ministry to make a mistake,” he replied. “What’re you thinking, `Mione?”

“Um… nothing,” she said, sitting back. She could see that no one bought it. “Look, I need to think about it for a bit.”

“I’m sure the Ministry knows what it’s doing,” Molly said, although even she seemed unconvinced.

“So, are you pregnant yet?” Ginny asked. Before Hermione could answer the floo was activated. Ron stepped through, soon followed by Millicent.

“Hi, Hermione,” he said. He sounded far from enthused. “Good honeymoon?”

“Of course,” she said, and she hurried over to give him a hug. “Have you been busy planning?” She looked at Millicent as she said this, though she addressed both of them.

“Uh, no, not really,” she replied, shuffling as she glanced around the room. “We’re kind of holding out for the Ministry changing its mind. With Lucius Malfoy’s son having to marry another male… well, he’s exercising as much influence as he can to stop that from happening.”

“And he hates the thought of any Slytherin marrying a Weasley,” Ron said, glaring at her.

“Not now,” she said through clenched teeth. Hermione exchanged a look of worry with Crookshanks. He shrugged.

“At least there’s no time limit,” she said. “You don’t have to get married for ages. We only married early to minimise the bad press – time-wise, anyway.”

“Hermione,” Crookshanks murmured. He coaxed her over to his armchair and then pulled her into his lap.

“What is it, Crooks?”

“Nothing,” he said. “I’m just making sure that there’ll be enough sitting room for everyone.”

“Oh.”

“Hey, Ron,” Harry said, tilting his head, “you and Millicent could always get married when we do.”

“A double-wedding?” Ginny asked.

“Well, it cuts down on planning time and expense,” he said. “Then they can also say that they have a date. And, since we’re not getting married until mid-November, it’ll give them lots of time to… well…”

“Get to know each other?” Molly suggested.

“Yes,” Harry said, nodding, “or find a way out of it.”

Meanwhile Crookshanks was studying one of his bite marks on the back of Hermione’s neck. He had surreptitiously parted her locks so that he could see it. Sometimes he broke the skin, but again Hermione didn’t seem to mind. He was able to fix her up afterwards, and they Glamoured the ones which would be visible otherwise.

“What are you doing?” Hermione whispered to him. He smiled against her skin.

“Do you wish for me to stop?”

“I… I don’t mind. Whatever makes you happy.” He could see the blush spreading into her hairline.

“Good.”

“Hermione, you didn’t answer my question before,” Ginny said. They all stopped talking to listen. “Are you pregnant?”

“Ginny,” Molly admonished.

“Well, that’s the point of the law, isn’t it?”

“I’m sure they will tell us when they’re ready,” she said. “Arthur will be home for lunch soon. Are you coming to the Burrow?”

“Perhaps we should go to the hospital,” Crookshanks said. “You could find out there.”

“There’s plenty of time for lunch first,” Molly insisted, standing up.

They ended up making an appointment by owl. In the days before that Hermione commenced her work at the Ministry in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Harry and Ron were beginning their second year of Auror training, so she got to see them on a semi-regular basis. Hermione hoped that although she was starting as a clerk she would quickly rise through the department. She wanted to make some real changes to magical laws, especially regarding house elves and other non-human beings.

She briefly wondered whether there were any changes she could make regarding the rights of familiars, but dismissed it for the time being. She couldn’t think of any current laws about them off the top of her head, so why start thinking about changes when there might be nothing to change?

“You will have to take time off work, I believe?” Crookshanks asked. “When the kit… child is born?”

“I will,” Hermione said, staring straight ahead. They were in the waiting room of a clinic at St. Mungo’s that was especially for pregnancies. It had been upgraded in anticipation of the marriage law.

“For how long?”

“I don’t know. I’ve never done this before.”

“I will have to find work,” he said. “Not only to support us but to give me something to do.”

“What are you qualified for?”

He stared at his hands, not for the first time wishing that they were paws. If only he was still a cat. That would solve many problems.

But then… who would Hermione be married to? He didn’t want her to be married to anyone else, unless it was someone he knew and approved of.

Well, that discounted almost every human he knew, and they were all now either engaged or wed.

“Perhaps a pet shop,” he said. “But not the horrors of that place where you found me, despite the happy memory of meeting you.” He smiled down at her, and she gave him a heart-clenching smile in return. The magic was broken when the receptionist called their name.

“Mr. and Mrs. Crookshanks?” she asked. They looked up and nodded. “Healer Dukas will see you now.”

“Thank you,” Hermione said. Although she didn’t need it, she accepted the hand that Crookshanks held out to help her up. They paused for a moment, realising just how close they were, before going into Examination Room 2, which had the healer’s name written above.

“Please take a seat,” Healer Dukas said, pointing to two uncomfortable-looking chairs. They sat down. “When did you get married?”

“Almost four weeks back,” Hermione said. “We returned from our honeymoon a fortnight ago.”

“And you believe that you’re pregnant?” Finally the woman looked up, and her eyes widened. “Oh! You’re Hermione Granger, aren’t you?”

“No. I’m Hermione Crookshanks.”

“Yes, but you were Hermione Granger, weren’t you?”

“I was.”

“And you married your familiar, am I correct?”

“Yes,” Crookshanks said, squeezing Hermione’s hand.

“A cat?”

“I was,” he said, his voice tight as he frowned at her. “But I am human now.”

“So I see.” She shuffled some papers. “Well, if you could just lie down over here for me, Mrs. Crookshanks, and I’ll cast some diagnostic spells.”

Hermione nodded and lay down on the examination table. She relaxed as much as she could but only felt calm when she laid eyes on her husband. He gave her an encouraging nod as Healer Dukas waved her wand, murmuring some spells. Finally three sparks flew into the air above Hermione’s stomach, twining around each other. They were a minty green colour, reminding Hermione of the flavour of toothpaste. This, naturally, made her think of her parents.

She felt like crying.

“I see,” the Healer said. “You may go back to your seat, Mrs. Crookshanks.”

“Um, all right,” Hermione said. She slipped off the table and returned to her husband’s side.

“You are indeed pregnant.”

“…Good,” she said.

“With triplets.”

“What?” they asked.

“Mrs. Crookshanks will be giving birth to triplets,” Healer Dukas said. “This is no doubt because the father used to be a cat, and they are, of course, born in litters.”

“Oh,” Hermione moaned, covering her face with her hands. “Oh gods.”

“Hermione, I am so sorry,” Crookshanks said, placing a hand on her shoulder.

“It’s not your fault. It’s the bloody Ministry’s fault.”

“Nevertheless…”

“No. There’s no ‘nevertheless’.” She sighed and looked at Healer Dukas. “When should the next appointment be?”

Lying in bed that night, curled up together, Crookshanks and Hermione thought about their situation.

“Three babies,” she said.

“I hope they all turn out to be human.”

“Crooks!” She smacked him on the hand. “How much do you know about cat pregnancy?”

“Nothing. I never planned to raise kittens. I did expect to help you with any children you had if I was able,” he confessed, and he kissed her shoulder. “But then I also expected their father to be… someone else. Not me.”

“I’m sure you’ll make a good father.”

“Your confidence astounds me.” He rolled her onto her back and studied her face. “I hope that they look like you.”

His wife sighed. “I miss my mum.”

“I suppose this is one of those times when a woman needs her mother.”

“It is.” Hermione snuggled further into his embrace. He tightened his arms protectively.

“And I cannot help you.”

“We could buy a book on cats,” she said. “Just in case.”

“That would ruin my reputation,” he said. But when she looked at him she saw that he was smirking.

“I’m pregnant by a cat, and you’re worried about your reputation.” She arched an eyebrow. “How nice.”

Crookshanks kissed the corner of her mouth and her eyelids fluttered.

“I will always look after you, mistress,” he said. “It is my duty not only as your familiar but as your husband. And with triplets the Ministry cannot say that we are not fulfilling our part of the law.”

“Thank you,” she said. She shifted around and fell asleep lying across his chest.

A/N: By the way, my dear readers, I forgot to clarify the setting. This is clearly a year after Voldemort’s defeat, since Ginny has graduated and Hermione has done her NEWTs. Also, Ron and Harry are partway through their training. Hermione’s parents are still overseas, as stated in the previous chapter. I just wanted to clear up any confusion for those people who may not have connected the obscure dots to get the full picture.

So… the story is canon but for the epilogue (and any relationship between Hermione and Ron).

I named the (female) Healer after the (male) composer Paul Dukas. He wrote “The Sorcerer’s Apprentice”, the piece of music which was used for the Disney film “Fantasia”.
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The Soul Mate Law