Hermione said she'd let it go, but her sense of responsibility as a top Gryffindor student was like a small feather, persistently tickling her reason.
Letting Harry, a walking magnet for trouble, wander around Hogsmeade?
merlins beard, that was even more unrealistic than Lia completing a Potions essay on her own.
She picked up her butterbeer and gave Parvati and Lavender an apologetic smile. "I'm going to the counter to get Lia some more hot chocolate; hers is getting cold."
The girls didn't suspect a thing, continuing their excited discussion about the possibility of exploring the Shrieking Shack.
Holding her cup, Hermione walked nonchalantly toward the bar's entrance and stopped in that empty corner.
Pretending to examine the wanted posters on the wall, she lowered her voice to a whisper. "Harry Potter, I know you're here. Are you insane?"
A faint sound of fabric rubbing came from the air.
"How did you..."
"Lia smelled you," Hermione interrupted him quickly, her tone as stern as if she were answering Snape's question in class. "If Filch catches you, you can forget about Quidditch for the rest of the term!"
"But Hermione, I..."
"Ding-ling—"
The wind chime at the bar entrance let out a crisp ring as a gust of cold wind poured in.
Hermione's words cut off abruptly, her pupils shrinking instantly.
It wasn't students walking through the door, but the Minister for Magic, Cornelius Fudge, followed by Professor McGonagall, Professor Flitwick, and the massive figure of Hagrid.
It was over.
Hermione's mind raced, reacting within a second. She spun around, grabbed the "void" of the cloak beside her, and with irresistible force, dragged the invisible Harry directly under their table.
On the other side, she gave Lia the simplest command:
"Lia, turn into a cat, quick!"
Almost the moment the words left her mouth, Lia's petite body curled up in a shimmer of light. The silver-haired Cat-girl vanished, and a snow-white Ragdoll Cat appeared on the seat.
With an agile leap, it dove into Hermione's thick wool robes, expertly finding the warmest and most comfortable spot against her chest to curl up.
This sequence of movements was as fast as lightning. By the time Parvati and Lavender's attention was drawn by the arriving dignitaries, Hermione was already sitting back in her place with a normal expression, though a soft bulge was visible at the chest of her robes.
Under the table, Harry was forced to crouch, not daring to breathe.
"Don't make a sound!" Hermione warned silently with her lips.
"...A small glass of redcurrant rum, Rosmerta," Fudge said gruffly to the landlady.
"None for me, thank you," Professor McGonagall's voice was clear and calm. "I'll have a small Gillywater."
"The same for me," Professor Flitwick squeaked.
"A pint for me, then," said Hagrid.
The dignitaries sat at another table not far from them, their conversation carrying over clearly.
"...Poor Harry Potter, how is he?" Madam Rosmerta's voice was full of concern.
"We were just going to see him, but he wasn't in his dormitory," Professor McGonagall replied.
Hermione's heart leaped into her throat; she could feel Harry's body go rigid under the table.
The conversation quickly turned to the name that had the entire wizarding world on edge—Sirius Black.
In Hermione's arms, the fluffy little thing moved.
A pure white cat head poked cautiously out from the collar of her robes, its sky-blue eyes looking curiously toward the source of the voices.
"...You say Black and the Potters used to be good friends?" Madam Rosmerta exclaimed.
"Best friends," Professor McGonagall's voice lowered. "They were inseparable."
Just then, Professor McGonagall's gaze inadvertently swept over toward Hermione and met those peeking cat eyes.
Lia's ears twitched, seemingly a bit nervous about being caught.
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