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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.

Chapter List
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“An Early Labour”

The days grew shorter, and so did the months. Hermione worked like a fiend at the Ministry to make up for her many toilet breaks and the pending maternity leave. She even brought work home over Christmas.

“This is ridiculous,” Crookshanks said, glaring at the stacks of files. “How could they allow you to…”

“They let me take things at my own pace,” Hermione said.

“Your pace is far too fast for someone in your condition.”

“At least I’m home.” She frowned. “Aren’t you always complaining about the amount of time I spend at work?”

“You are my wife, and you are pregnant with our brood. Of course I would rather you spend more time here,” he said, frowning right back. “You should be slowing down.”

“I don’t want to get slack,” she said. “It will just make it harder to get back to a normal routine once I’m no longer on leave.”

Crookshanks shook his head and left her to it.

A few weeks before the double wedding he had finally got some work. Or, more to the point, he had started his own work.

With his memories as a cat/half-kneazle, Crookshanks had begun creating the ultimate cat food. This stemmed from his experiments in the kitchen soon after he became a human, before he was fully accustomed to his changed tastebuds. Hermione helped him acquire ingredients and put him in touch with Arabella Figg, who was famous for breeding kneazles and part-kneazles. He researched the cat food on the market, found out how it was made, and then began to produce his own.

First he sold from their apartment, not having enough of his own money to buy premises and hire staff. That was in the first month. Then he forced himself to contact the Magical Menagerie. The store not only bought some for its feline ‘stock’ but also advertised the products there. Soon, orders were pouring in as word spread. Without the use of magic to speed up production he would have been working all day every day.

Working from home had one great disadvantage: he missed Hermione. It didn’t feel right to be in their apartment without her; not as a human. He frequently visited Mrs. Figg’s house for product testing, which at least lessened his loneliness. Sometimes he even cooked there, as Smell-Disguising Charms – while good at preventing the stench from triggering Hermione’s morning sickness – were still tedious, and Crookshanks liked to be able to air-taste his new products when making them.

“Ah,” he said, nodding as a regal-looking owl came into sight. Hermione was due back soon; she was now into her fifth month. However, the owl wasn’t from her.

He opened the window and in flew Copernicus, Millicent Weasley’s owl. Crookshanks fed him a few owl treats, glad that the air from his cooking had now cleared, and removed the package.

“Thank you,” he said. Copernicus nodded and took off. He never waited for a reply, as it was unnecessary.

Millicent and Ron’s honeymoon had only lasted a few days before they returned, anxious not to be alone together for longer than required. She had never had to work, and had an exceptional dowry, but Ron had insisted that she find some form of employment.

It was Ginny who had discovered Millicent’s passion and talent for art and design. When Crookshanks complained about not having the faintest idea when it came to packaging for his cat food, Ginny had convinced him to hire Millicent. She turned out some great ideas, worked for very little, and was able to use the work as an excuse to avoid spending extra time with her husband. Crookshanks gave her a raise after a week.

He smiled as he pulled out the fresh batch of packets and boxes in varying sizes, all with the attractive orange and brown logo and the company name – Crookshanks Cat Cuisine. (He got the idea for the three Cs from the Weasley twins.)

“Good,” he said. Just then the floo activated, and his head swivelled around as Hermione stumbled into the room, one protective hand on her swollen belly and the other steadying herself against the fireplace. “Good evening, Hermione.”

“Hello, Crookshanks. How was your day?”

“Fine. Productive. You?”

“Okay,” she said. They nodded at each other, acknowledging how awkward things had become. It was all because of work. More to the point, because of Hermione’s late hours at the Ministry.

This is unacceptable, he thought, but he wasn’t up for another argument. Not tonight.

“I see Millicent sent the next lot of packaging,” Hermione said, glancing at the coffee table.

“Yes.”

“Good.”

“What would you like for dinner?”

“Um… whatever you want,” she said. “I’m going to have a shower.”

Before the awkwardness set in Crookshanks would have immediately volunteered to shower with her, but, well… things had been quieter on that front. He tried to tell himself that it was the pregnancy, and perhaps it was. Nonetheless, things were different.

Another month passed. Hermione was now at the end of her second trimester. She was in a lift at the Ministry of Magic one day when she met Lavender Montague.

They got on better than they had during their Hogwarts days, but that was mainly because they were no longer in a love triangle with Ron. However, they still disliked each other.

“Hello,” Lavender said, smiling tightly.

“Good afternoon, Lavender,” Hermione replied, one hand holding files and the other resting on her baby bump. “How are you and… your husband going?”

“Fine,” she said. “What about you and your, uh, husband?”

“Okay, I guess.” She looked at the floor. “He’s very attentive and his business is going well.”

“Don’t you ever worry about him being a human?”

“Better than him being a half-kneazle,” she said, eyes sparkling. That soon changed.

“I mean from his perspective,” Lavender said, frowning at her nails. “He must miss his old life.”

“Oh?”

“My dear Hermione, he’s making cat food.”

Hermione stared at her open-mouthed and wide-eyed. “B-but that’s because he knows what cats like and he isn’t really qualified for much… not that it’s his fault, and I’m teaching him all that I can about magic… or, at least, I was.” She looked worried. “It’s not like he’s clinging to the past, is it?”

“Isn’t it?” she said. Just then the lift reached her floor. “Well, I suppose you’d know best. You’re his wife, after all. Sorry I couldn’t come to the wedding, but then ours were on at the same time, weren’t they? That was just before Padma gave birth, come to think of it.” The door opened. “I’ll tell Parvati you said ‘hi’, shall I? See ya!”

Hermione nodded wordlessly as the blonde left and the door snapped shut again. This time her stomach lurched for quite a different reason.

Crookshanks sent the last parcel through the floo. The largest order was always last, and it was always for the Magical Menagerie.

“Done!” he said, dusting off his hands as he stood. He packed everything away and was just clearing the air when Hermione arrived home.

“Hi,” she said, head down as she walked through to their room. Crookshanks knew that something was wrong and followed his wife.

“What is wrong?” he asked, his eyes reflecting his concern.

“Nothing. Should something be wrong?”

“I hope not.” He sat on the edge of their bed, watching as she stripped. Despite the tension between them he was starting to get hard as her pregnant body was slowly revealed. She walked across the room to their wardrobe in just her underwear and he leapt to his feet.

“What?” she asked, clutching a t-shirt to her chest.

“Lie down,” he said, his voice husky. He noticed her shiver, but she shook her head.

“Sorry, but I just can’t,” she said.

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t want to, that’s why!”

“All right, calm down,” he said, holding his hands up. “It is just… seeing you rounded with our k-kids…” He shrugged. “I am only human, Hermione.”

“But you weren’t always,” she whispered. “And you just did it again. You started to say ‘kittens’, didn’t you?”

He sighed and looked down. “Yes. But I am trying.”

“It’s not enough.” She glanced away. “You miss being a cat, don’t you?”

“You must admit that it is reasonable to feel a bit, I suppose, ‘homesick’,” he said. “I have been human for little more than half a year. It was a big change. How do you expect me to feel?”

“I just wish you’d be honest about this,” she said, holding her elbows and shuffling. “I feel bad enough as it is.”

“No,” he said, walking forward and pulling her into his arms. “Hermione, no. This was not your fault…”

“It was,” she said. He opened his mouth but she covered it. “I only found out a few days ago. The door was not designed to find a person’s soul mate. It was made to bring forth the first living person thought of by whomever stands in front of it, assuming that their intentions are not of ill will. I was thinking about coming home to you – you know, because I was so bored and frustrated – so it is my fault that you became a human. If I hadn’t thought of you first, then… then…”

“You would be with someone else,” he finished, nodding. “And you wish that?”

“Of course I do! I never wanted this!”

Crookshanks felt sick. He felt extremely sick.

“Yes,” he said. “I can imagine why.” He let her go and walked to the door. “I will start preparing dinner.”

He saw Hermione nod out of the corner of his eye.

These sorts of scenes would continue for another month…

“I never said that you wished to be another Molly Weasley!” Crookshanks shouted, trying desperately to rein in his temper.

“Well you certainly implied it!” Hermione replied. “That’s what all men want, isn’t it? A good, obedient little homemaker!”

“I am not like other men…”

“No, because you still wish that you were a bloody cat!”

“Stop,” he said. “Stop this right now. It cannot be good for the babies.”

“Oh, but don’t you mean litter?” she asked, sarcasm dripping from her words. She clutched her stomach as another bolt of pain shot through her. Yet again, she ignored it. “Our three little kittens, with their little whiskers and tails!”

“Stop it!” Crookshanks snapped. “I am sick of this, Hermione. If it is just pregnancy hormones tell me, because I hate to add to your stress.”

“This marriage was just doomed from the start,” she said, throwing up her hands. “I don’t know why I ever thought that it could w… oh.”

This time her knees buckled. She grabbed the arm of a nearby chair to steady herself. Crookshanks took a step forward.

“Hermione…?”

“This can’t be happening,” she muttered. She glanced at the floor and her eyes widened. “Oh gods.”

“What?” he asked. Then he saw it. “Your water…”

“I know!” she said, gripping the chair. “It’s too early. They’re too early.”

“We have to get to St. Mungo’s,” he said. He Summoned her bag from their bedroom and helped her over to the fireplace. “Everything is all right, Hermione. You will be all right, and so will the babies.”

“Crookshanks,” she whimpered, “I’m frightened. I want my mum.”

“I know you do,” he said, rubbing circles on her back.

“She doesn’t even know about us.”

“I know, Hermione. I know.” Their fireplace had been extended so that they could floo to the hospital together for appointments, and now for the labour. “St. Mungo’s!” he bellowed and he dropped a handful of powder. Hermione buried her head in his chest while she protected her belly as best she could. They arrived safely out the other end.

From that moment it was go, go, go.

“Mr. Crookshanks, you must wait outside,” a nurse said, trying to push him out of the ward.

“No,” he said. “I am staying with my wife…”

“It’s too dangerous,” she said. “She’s two months early and pregnant with triplets. You have to stay outside.”

“No! Let me in!”

Hermione cried out, clutching the sheets of the hospital bed. Crookshanks tried to force his way past.

“What’s going on?” Healer Dukas asked, touching his shoulder.

“They will not let me near my Hermione,” Crookshanks said, his eyes flashing in anger.

“That’s right,” she said. “Go and wait in the waiting room.”

“You told us that she was all right,” he said, pointing at her. “You said that she would be all right.”

“Cats have shorter gestation periods,” she replied. “Perhaps it’s…”

“Oh gods, not again,” he moaned, covering his face with his hands. Then Hermione cried his name and his head shot up.

“Just stay out here for the time being,” Healer Dukas said, looking flustered. “If things get bad I’ll let you know.” Then she and the nurse went into the ward and placed Locking Charms on the door. Crookshanks watched Hermione fidget in pain.

“Get bad?” he whispered. “What does she mean? Does she mean…? No.” He shook his head anxiously, placing his hands against the door. “No. I cannot lose Hermione. I… I just can’t. I can’t!”

Hermione gasped loudly.

“Come on, Hermione,” Healer Dukas said. “Keep pushing.”

“I want them out already,” she whimpered. “Where’s Crookshanks?” She looked over to the door. When she saw her husband’s worried face looking at her she felt a bit better.

“At least they’ll be smaller,” the healer said, patting her leg. Hermione scowled at her.

“I want my children healthy!” she snarled. Tears spilled from her eyes as more pain wracked her body. “Crook… Crookshanks!”

The minutes passed slowly. Hermione was given a potion to make the delivery a little less painful; her husband, however, had no idea what this was. His pounding on the door became more frantic, to the point where the beating was louder than Hermione’s cries. She glanced over at him again.

“Don’t get distracted!” the nurse said, trying to hold Hermione’s hand. She wrenched it away.

“Get. My. Husband!”

“He’s not doing her any favours being out there,” Healer Dukas said. “Let him in.”

“But, Healer…”

“Are you questioning my or…?”

“Aargh!” Hermione shrieked. She could feel the first baby and her chest heaved with sobs. The nurse ran to the door. She had barely lowered the wards when Crookshanks burst into the room. Never had he moved so fast in his life as he reached the bed a moment later.

“`Mione,” he whispered, grasping her right hand with his and sweeping her sweaty hair away from her face with his left. “My darling…”

“You’re never doing this to me again, you hear?” she said. He nodded.

“Don’t die, Hermione,” he said.

“I’ll try not to…”

“First one’s coming!” Healer Dukas said.

“I know!”

The whole time Crookshanks stayed glued to Hermione, never looking away from her beautiful, pained expression, not even with every insult she threw at him. She was giving birth to his children. Who cared if it was for the Ministry? Right now he didn’t give a flying fig.

Two white coffins lay side by side. Crookshanks was squatting beside them, tears in his eyes, while Hermione stood behind holding their only child, Bastet Elizabeth. All three babies would have died during labour had the two weaker ones not given their remaining life forces to their youngest sister. Now, however, Hermione was unable to have any more children.

After the funeral Hermione and Crookshanks stayed standing by the graves. He looked down at her.

“How is she?” he asked softly. She shrugged.

“It’s still a bit cool,” she said. “At least she’s wrapped up well.”

“Yes.”

Hermione bit her lower lip. “Crooks… now that I can’t have any more children we could break the Bond. Now that everyone knows the truth about the door’s powers lots of people are separating. Then you can find someone else… or even become a cat Animagus… anything. You no longer have to…”

“Are you mad?” he said. She raised her eyes to his. “Hermione, I will never leave you. When I thought that I lost you I realised just how much I care about you.” He grabbed her by the elbows. “Damn it, I love you, and I will never leave you unless you wish it.”

She smiled shakily. “You love me?”

“Yes. Do… Is it your wish that I leave?”

“No! Please don’t leave me.” She wrapped one arm around his waist, her other still cradling Bastet. “Please don’t leave me, Crookshanks. I love you, too. I love you so much. I think… I think it was when I saw how worried you were, during the… b-birth. I knew then.”

“I am so sorry that our fighting caused this,” he said, indicating the holes in the ground.

“What?” She stared up at him. “No, Crooks. There was always a risk with triplets, especially two months early. It’s not your fault. If you blame yourself then I must blame myself for not being strong enough, and for working too hard. And the fights were never one-way. Besides,” she looked ashamed, “I usually started them.”

“Hermione.” He stroked her cheek. “Not today. Let’s not discuss this today.”

“…Okay.”

They turned, still holding each other, and walked off into the sunset with their only child in their arms.

I am happy to say that this was their last sad memory.

THE END

A/N: Should I duck any flying objects? Hmm…

I didn’t intend for two of the three babies to die, but then it just came to me. I can’t keep having completely happy endings, can I? No, indeed!

Maybe it’s because there are now cyclones up in North Queensland, where we have family and family history. Thank Merlin there haven’t been any deaths yet. Though it feels like the floods all over again, with the emergency weather reports and round-the-clock news coverage.

No wonder it’s not all sunshine, lollipops and rainbows in my fan fics at the moment.

I hope you enjoyed this story, even if it didn’t end on an entirely happy note. Please review, especially if you want to read more Crookshanks/Hermione!
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The Soul Mate Law