Hermione prepared a brand-new set of flannel pajamas for Lia and established a rule: every time she turned into human form on the bed, she had to crawl into the pajamas first.
Otherwise, appearing naked on the bed every time would be a massive challenge to Hermione's willpower.
This decision was decisively enforced after Parvati and Lavender accidentally barged in during one of her transformations.
Lia was originally rolling around on the bed, protesting that sleeping in clothes was restrictive and uncomfortable, but she was threatened by a blushing Hermione: "If you don't wear clothes, go back to your own bed to sleep."
Looking at that brand-new bed that had never been slept in, Lia could only compromise aggrievedly.
The consecutive days of overcast and snowy weather miraculously cleared up on the day of the match, but the air was still as cold as a knife.
The first Quidditch match of Gryffindor against Slytherin swept away the cold, plunging the entire house into a feverish excitement.
Early in the morning, Hermione dragged the not-yet-awake Lia to the Great Hall to help Harry prepare the banners for cheering.
"Harry is our new Seeker!" she announced proudly to the drowsy Lia while using magic to make the lion pattern on the banner move. "He's the youngest Seeker in a century!"
"Ah... Hermione, I'm so sleepy..." Lia yawned, physiological tears hanging from the corners of her eyes. "Let me sleep a bit longer..."
With a poof, she turned into a kitten and jumped straight into Hermione's schoolbag to continue her nap, leaving only the tip of her tail to wag feebly outside.
Having used her own body temperature to warm Hermione lately, Lia's control over her ability had become increasingly proficient.
She had long since moved past the role of a "hand warmer"; now, as long as she was near Hermione, she could provide a near-scorching warmth to offset the external cold.
Ron grumbled sourly from the side, "That's so convenient... I'm cold too."
He tentatively leaned in closer, but felt almost nothing; it seemed that warmth was exclusive to Hermione.
Well, now he was even more jealous!
Before the match began, Hermione snagged a spot with an excellent view in the Gryffindor stands.
The cold wind whistled past, making one's cheeks sting.
Hermione pulled at her scarf, still feeling the wind whistling down the back of her neck.
The schoolbag moved, and a furry cat head poked out.
Lia glanced at the boisterous crowd with sleepy eyes and gave a very human-like sigh.
Without hesitation, she jumped out of the bag, lightly leaped onto Hermione's shoulder, and stretched while stepping on Hermione's head.
Then, under the curious gazes of the surrounding students, this beautiful Ragdoll Cat stood up and, with its long, fluffy snow-white tail, skillfully wrapped itself around Hermione's neck. It was neither too loose nor too tight, perfectly blocking all the gaps where the wind leaked in. The tip of the tail even playfully brushed against Hermione's chin, causing a slight itch.
"Oh, Merlin, look at Hermione's cat!"
"You idiot, that's Lia! She's actually acting as a scarf!"
"It's so smart!"
"I want a scarf like that too..."
Hermione's cheeks flushed slightly, but the warmth and softness from her neck made her completely unwilling to take off this "scarf."
She secretly gave the tip of the tail a small, vengeful nip, then pretended not to hear the surrounding chatter, straightened her back, and focused her attention on the pitch.
Bang! The whistle for the start of the match sounded.
Fourteen figures soared into the sky, the red Gryffindor uniforms and green Slytherin uniforms weaving and darting through the air.
The match was exceptionally intense from the start. Marcus Flint, the captain of the Slytherin team, played roughly, frequently playing dirty against the Gryffindor Chasers. "Isn't that a foul?!" Ron shouted angrily from the side.
Hermione also clenched her fists nervously, her eyes moving rapidly across the field, searching for Harry's figure.
Harry was circling high in the air, dodging the rampaging Bludgers while searching for that trace of gold.
Everything was a dizzying blur.
Lia, on Hermione's shoulder, was initially dozing lazily.
But gradually, she opened her eyes.
In those sky-blue cat eyes, the images of the players moving at high speed in the air were reflected.
As a cat, her dynamic vision far surpassed that of ordinary people; those movements that seemed lightning-fast to Wizards were broken down into clear, frame-by-frame trajectories in her eyes.
Suddenly, Lia's body stiffened. Her white fur stood on end instantly, a suppressed low growl escaped her throat, and the tip of the tail wrapped around Hermione's neck tightened slightly, twitching urgently.
Her [Danger Intuition] caught an extremely abnormal trajectory!
It wasn't from the players, nor was it from the Bludgers.
A magically enchanted Bludger! After a violent pass, it shot straight toward the section of the stands where Hermione was at high speed, at an extremely tricky angle that completely defied physical laws, making a sharp whistling sound! Its target was Hermione!
"Meow—!" A sharp, urgent cry rang out.
Lia suddenly stood up, extended her paw pads, and without hesitation, began slapping Hermione's cheek repeatedly.
Slap! Slap! Slap!
Hermione was focusing all her attention on the pitch and was startled by this sudden "attack."
"Lia, what are you doing..."
Lia's blue eyes were full of anxiety and warning; while slapping, she let out urgent, short cries, doing her best to signal her to lower her head immediately!
Although Hermione didn't understand what was happening at all, after the Troll incident, her trust in Lia was deep-seated.
She have no hesitation, almost as a reflex, she clutched her head and ducked down abruptly.
Almost at the same instant her body lowered—
Whoosh—!! A powerful current of air whistled past, grazing her scalp! The wind pressure made her scalp tingle.
Bang!!!
With a loud crash, a thick wooden seat plank behind her was instantly shattered into pieces by that Bludger, wood chips flying everywhere!
"Ah—!" The surrounding students erupted in terrified screams, scrambling backward to clear a large empty space.
Hermione stiffly raised her head, looking at the Bludger deeply embedded in the backboard of the stands, still vibrating slightly, and the shattered wood chips all over the ground. Her back was instantly soaked in cold sweat.
If it hadn't been for Lia... if she had been a second slower... she would have spent at least a week in the Hospital Wing, and who knows how many lessons she would have missed!
"Hermione! Are you okay!" Ron and Neville rushed over, their faces pale.
Hermione shook her head and, still shaken, hugged the little cat that had saved her life tightly in her arms.
Lia was still baring her teeth in the direction of the Bludger, letting out threatening low growls.
This was definitely no accident! At the same time, a louder gasp came from above the pitch.
"Look! It's Harry!"
Hermione looked up abruptly and saw Harry's Nimbus 2000 bucking and rolling violently in the air as if it were drunk, trying to throw him off the broom!
Harry was hanging from the broom like a ragdoll, holding on for dear life with only his hands, liable to fall from dozens of feet in the air at any moment!
"Someone is jinxing his broom!" Hermione reacted immediately. She grabbed the binoculars from the seat and frantically searched the stands, her heart burning with anxiety.
"Who is it... who on earth is it..." Her lens swept across faces filled with terror or schadenfreude, finally settling on the teachers' stand. Snape! The Potions Professor was staring fixedly at Harry, his lips moving rapidly, seemingly muttering something!
"It's him! It's Snape!" Hermione whispered to Ron. "I knew he was no good!"
"That ball just now must have been his doing too!" Ron agreed.
Just as Hermione focused all her attention on Snape, Lia, in her arms, looked past Snape's figure. Her blue cat eyes were locked onto another inconspicuous person on the teachers' stand.
That Defense Against the Dark Arts Class Professor who always wore a ridiculous turban and smelled of garlic—Quirrell.
The bloodline within Lia roared.
That faint, hidden, yet extremely malicious magic was like the stench of a rotting soul that only she could smell, clearly coming from Quirrell.
This aura disgusted her more than the Troll and terrified her more than a Dark Wizard's scalpel!
"Hiss—ha!" Lia arched her back toward Quirrell's direction, letting out a hiss full of primal wildness and deadly threat.
Hermione felt the little cat's violent reaction in her arms and followed its gaze, but only saw Snape "casting a spell" and Quirrell next to him, also moving his lips, seemingly cheering for Harry.
Her thinking was guided by inherent prejudice, completely overlooking the Professor who seemed timid and harmless.