Lia poked her small head out from a gap in the quilt, her silver hair sticking up in a messy tangle. She tilted her head and asked in a soft, sweet voice, "Hermione, aren't we getting up?"
She seemed to have no memory of what happened last night, only recalling a blurry and warm dream.
That's for the best, Hermione thought. That was a secret between them.
"Parvati!" Hermione suddenly shouted toward the door, her voice louder than usual and carrying an unquestionable decisiveness. "Help me ask Professor McGonagall for a leave of absence! Just say Lia isn't feeling well!"
Parvati's distant reply came from outside the door: "Alright—!"
"I'm not feeling unwell," Lia said, sitting up in bed again. The silky quilt slid down her smooth shoulders, revealing her delicate collarbones. "I feel like I slept exceptionally well. I'm warm all over, just like I spent the whole day sleeping in the sun."
As she spoke, she gave a long stretch like a satiated cat, her body extending into a graceful curve as a satisfied hum escaped her throat.
Hermione's breath hitched. The soft touch from last night and the soul-merging shivers flooded her mind again. She immediately averted her gaze, forcing herself to look at the Unicorn tapestry on the wall.
"You had a fever last night, a very high one," Hermione's voice was a bit dry. "Did you forget?"
"A fever?" Lia tilted her head, her fluffy ears twitching along with the movement. She tried to remember, but her mind only held blurry fragments of heat and discomfort, followed by a cool yet warm embrace. It smelled like Hermione.
"I... seem to have some memory of it," Lia said softly. "Later... it seemed Hermione held me, and then I felt better."
Hermione's heart skipped a beat. She turned back, meeting Lia's pure eyes.
This girl has no idea what she just said!
"Yes," Hermione walked over and sat on the edge of the bed, reaching out to brush a stray lock of hair behind Lia's ear. The touch of her fingertips made her heart race again. "I held you."
"Hermione," Lia suddenly leaned in, her small body almost pressed against Hermione's. She buried her face in the crook of Hermione's neck and took a deep breath, a satisfied purr vibrating in her throat. "Your scent smells even better than before. It has a bit more of my scent mixed in now, it's warm."
Hermione's body stiffened instantly. She knew what Lia was talking about. After a night of magical fusion, their scents had permeated each other, leaving an indelible mark. For a Cat-kin like Lia with a keen sense of smell, this change was impossible to hide.
"Stop it," Hermione's voice carried a hint of subtle huskiness. She gently pushed Lia away, though she didn't use any real force. "Get dressed quickly, I'll go get breakfast for you."
She stood up and left the bedside almost as if she were fleeing.
In the days that followed, all of Hogwarts noticed a strange change.
In the Great Hall, Ron was feeding Lia as usual. He was just about to give Lia a sausage from his plate when he was stopped by Hermione.
She rejected it on the grounds of it being "a bit too oily," and Lia surprisingly didn't object. Just like before, she ate whatever Hermione fed her.
At least three out of every ten times Fred and George brought their special snacks, they were met with defeat.
Ron and Harry watched this scene in stunned silence.
"Merlin's beard, Hermione, you're practically becoming Lia's bodyguard," Ron complained indistinctly while eating Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans.
Harry agreed, "Aren't you being a bit too strict with Lia? I'm a little worried about you two."
"It's fine," Hermione flatly refused. She was pretending to read a book, but her peripheral vision was constantly on Lia, who was resting her head on Hermione's lap and lazily wagging her tail. "She wasn't 'feeling well' a few days ago and needs rest."
Hearing this, Lia looked up with a giggle and rubbed her head against Hermione's thigh. She loved the feeling of being completely protected by Hermione; it gave her an unprecedented sense of security.
"Alright then," Harry said, as if remembering something. "I saw a mirror while I was out wandering at night. I saw my parents in it. You two might see something else interesting—want to go take a look?"
Hermione was noncommittal; she preferred her private time with Lia. Ron, on the other hand, was very interested.
Looking at the two high-energy boys, Hermione couldn't help but feel a headache coming on. She felt like Gryffindor's hourglass was going to drop another notch tomorrow.
The scent of spring grew stronger, and the term's coursework entered its most intense phase. Especially Snape's Potion Class.
The perpetually gloomy Professor seemed to think the first-year Wizards were too idle and assigned a nightmare of a pre-final project—brewing a complex 'Vigor Tonic.'
"You can find the recipe for this potion in chapter seven of 'Moste Potente Potions'," Snape paced the dark dungeon classroom, his black robes fluttering like bat wings. "But as for the most critical ingredient, Moonlight Petals, I suspect your Troll-like brains have no idea where to find them."
His gaze swept across the classroom, finally landing on Hermione's high-raised hand.
"Miss Granger, do you have more brilliant insights to share?"
"Professor," Hermione stood up and said calmly, "I've checked the library records. There are no Moonlight Petals left in Hogwarts' public stores; they've all been reserved by upperclassmen for O.W.L. practice."
"Oh? Is that so?" Snape's lips curled into a sarcastic smirk. "So, Miss Granger is trying to tell me that you cannot complete the assignment? Because you cannot find the materials? What an excellent excuse. Ten points from Gryffindor for your pathetic incompetence."
Hermione's face flushed bright red as she bit her lip and sat back down. Sitting next to her, Lia clearly felt a wave of grievance and anger radiating from Hermione, like tiny electric currents that made the hair on the back of her neck stand up.
From that day on, Hermione's life revolved around only one thing—finding a substitute for Moonlight Petals.
She spent almost all her spare time soaked in the library, with piles of ancient texts stacked on her table and parchment scattered everywhere.
Lia could smell the increasingly heavy scents of 'anxiety' and 'exhaustion' on Hermione.
This made Lia very uneasy, and she wanted to help too.
Thanks to nearly a semester of exposure and her own decent intelligence, she could already recognize most common words and even some distorted ancient scripts.
Lia couldn't read systematically like Hermione, but she could'scan.'
"Hermione, look at this!" Lia the Cat leaped gracefully from a high bookshelf, transforming back into human form mid-air, and placed a thin pamphlet in front of Hermione.
Using her sharp intuition, Lia easily picked out books from the sea of literature that felt like they might contain useful information.
"'A Study of Plants on the Edge of the Forbidden Forest'? This kind of informal reading..." Hermione frowned as she opened it, but her eyes soon lit up. The book contained a description of 'Silverlight Grass,' which shared some characteristics with the moonpetal flower. While not the final answer, it provided a brand new train of thought.
"Lia, you're amazing!" Hermione rubbed Lia's head in surprise, the fatigue in her eyes dissipating slightly.
But a train of thought was just that. The substitute plans were overturned one by one. Hermione's frown deepened, and the dark circles under her eyes grew heavier.
Late at night, the fire in the common room gradually died out. Hermione was still writing furiously by the light of her wand tip, trying to find clues in a tattered copy of 'The Encyclopedia of Herb Identification.'
She yawned and rubbed her sore eyes, preparing to start verifying another plan.
A fair little hand gently rested on the back of Hermione's hand, fingers sliding into the gaps between hers and squeezing lightly.
Without Hermione noticing when she had arrived, Lia stood behind her and rested her head on Hermione's shoulder.
"Hermione, sleep," Lia whispered, her blue eyes full of worry and heartache.
"I'm not sleepy yet, Lia. You go to sleep first," Hermione replied, gently rubbing her head back against Lia's. Their long time together had caused her to unconsciously pick up some of Lia's habits.
Lia didn't move. She leaned in, her small nose sniffing at the pages of the book.
On the page Hermione was looking at, there was a detailed illustration of a plant drawn in ink—silver petals unfolding under the moonlight, looking elegant. Beside it was the label: moonpetal flower.
Lia's eyes brightened instantly. This thing... she seemed to have seen it somewhere. Near the tree hollow where she used to hide during her wandering days, they would bloom whenever the moon was at its fullest, emitting a scent that made her feel very comfortable.
"Be good, Lia, let me look a little longer," Hermione's voice was tinged with stubborn exhaustion.
Lia looked at Hermione's weary profile. Well, she was also used to Hermione's stubbornness.
Until she found an answer she could accept, Hermione wouldn't be able to sleep peacefully even if she went back to bed.
Hermione was her sanctuary, the entire source of her sense of security. Now, her sanctuary was troubled and exhausted because of this flower.
In that case, she would go and remove that trouble.
She was going to help Hermione.
Lia quietly let go of her hand and took a few steps back, her petite figure blending into the shadows of the common room like a drop of water merging into the sea.
She was going to bring that flower back and deliver it to Hermione.
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