This Christmas holiday, Kate had abruptly entered retirement mode.
Someone fed her. Someone helped her to the toilet. Someone even helped her bathe — no, wait, wizards didn't need to bathe. One Scouring Charm and it was done.
Even when she got bored lying in bed and wanted to read, someone turned the pages for her, with complimentary narration included.
This life… was absolute torture.
She was starting to suspect she simply wasn't built for the good life. Every time she lay in bed with Hermione, listening to that voice that still hadn't shed its childish softness reading aloud, a strange sense of dislocation crept over her.
This sort of thing — it used to be her reading to Hermione. She'd watch that tiny little slip of a girl grow drowsy because she couldn't follow the fat, difficult books, until she keeled over onto the sofa.
But now it had all been turned upside down.
She was the one being looked after, and every inch of her rebelled against it.
Or rather — it wasn't being looked after that bothered her. When Cho Chang spooned food into her mouth, she could chat and joke with perfect ease.
It was just… she couldn't stand being looked after by Hermione, a child she'd watched grow up.
Especially not after that one incident where her heart had skipped.
Kate swore that since then she hadn't entertained a single thought that crossed the line of friendship. It was only that… things weren't the same anymore.
For as long as she could remember, she'd treated Hermione as a small child who knew nothing of the world, and she'd gone on doing it even after they'd both grown up.
But one wayward thought was proof enough that she no longer saw Hermione as a child. She saw her as someone who could make her heart move. A genuine peer.
That was something Kate couldn't accept. Ever since, she'd been trying to force their relationship back into its proper shape — the old model, big sister taking care of little sister.
And now the caretaking had reversed direction, and everything she'd worked so hard to straighten out had been knocked crooked all over again.
Right now, for instance… she was lying as rigidly flat as she could manage. As straight as a genuinely straight girl.
It accomplished precisely nothing. Hermione climbed up anyway in nothing but a nightgown, gathered Kate into her arms, and used a Levitation Charm to hang the book in the air above them.
The one small mercy was that Hermione hadn't gone completely feral yet — at least she still had a bra on under the nightgown…
That was the only comfort Kate could offer herself, face carefully blank.
It didn't help either.
Because she was in Hermione's arms right now, and her head was less than five centimetres from certain sensitive regions, thank you very much!
When Hermione had first offered to read to her, Kate had assumed it would mean sitting at the head of the bed. Instead, the moment they got into the bedroom, Hermione changed into her nightgown without asking anyone and made straight for the mattress.
Could Kate have said no?
She was so upright! So principled! So —
It was Hermione!
Hermione had looked at her with those pitiful eyes and asked whether she didn't want her up there keeping her company. What was anyone supposed to say to that?
So, seduced by beauty — no, softened by sentiment — she'd grudgingly surrendered half the bed. And it had escalated into this.
At last Kate spotted her chance. While Hermione finished one book and turned away to swap it for another, she inched backwards with everything she had. One centimetre. Two. Five. Ten…
"Found it, let's read this one, Kate!" Hermione spun back around and, out of pure habit, hauled her into her arms again before flipping the book open.
"If you love a flower that lives on a star, then it is sweet at night to look up at the sky. All the stars seem to be a-bloom with flowers…"
Hermione's voice was lovely, like spring water running through a mountain stream — still a little young, but clear enough already.
Only Kate had no attention left to spare for the next book.
Her position felt unbearably awkward, and after a few lines she spent every scrap of strength she currently possessed struggling upright out of those thin little arms.
"I…" She didn't dare meet Hermione's eyes, letting her gaze wander while she fished for an excuse. "I need the toilet, and then I want to sleep. You've been reading for ages, you must be tired. Why don't you rest a bit?"
Hermione closed the book, tilted her head and considered it, then agreed with a beaming smile. "All right. Do you want me to help you up?"
"No need, I can walk on my own now." Kate scrambled off the bed and set off for the bathroom at what she privately considered a brisk pace and what was in reality the speed of a tortoise.
She only had to hide in the bathroom a while, and by the time she came out Hermione should have left. Right?
She thought it with a heart full of hope, judged the timing, then wrestled the door open and shuffled back step by laborious step. When she finally reached the bed, she lifted the covers —
The relaxed smile froze on her face.
Kate drew a slow breath, looking down at the certain little lion who had already burrowed herself a nest in the bed, and asked with forced composure, "Didn't I say I was going to take a nap?"
"You did," said Hermione, and there was a light in her eyes that made Kate's pulse stutter. "It's freezing out. I'm warming the bed up for you!"
Kate: …
Devious, scheming straight girl!
While she was screaming about it internally, Hermione reached out and yanked her onto the bed. "Stop standing there. It's cold, get in!"
Warmth swallowed her without warning. Kate shivered, turned her head, and found herself looking straight into Hermione's bright eyes.
She looked away, guilty, and wrapped her own small blanket tighter around herself. "Then… sleep well."
Once she was asleep she wouldn't feel a thing either!
With the philosophy of an ostrich, Kate shut her eyes at once, and in that warm, charged quiet her strung-tight nerves began, little by little, to loosen…
Until a pair of even warmer hands settled on her waist.
Her eyes flew open on reflex. She glanced down at those hot palms and stammered, "Wh— what are you doing!"
"Still awake?" Hermione laughed softly and used the moment to snuggle closer, soothing her in reverse. "Go to sleep. I think I'm getting sleepy too."
And with that she tucked her head against the back of Kate's neck, her breathing gradually evening out.
She slept beautifully. Kate, with a guilty conscience, couldn't sleep at all.
She tried to shift away, and the little lion only cinched her tighter in her sleep. She tried to lift that hand off, only to discover it came equipped with a roaming function — the instant she moved, the hand started wandering.
Kate broke out in a cold sweat and had no choice but to catch the wayward hand and press it firmly against her waist, where at least it couldn't help itself to anything else.
The people of China have always loved compromise and the middle path. Propose opening a window and everyone refuses; propose tearing off the roof, and suddenly they're willing to negotiate — and willing to open the window.
Which was exactly Kate's situation. A hand on her waist? Absolutely not. But once Hermione started roaming, she found herself perfectly willing to have a hand on her waist.
In short: the life and times of Kate, thoroughly outmaneuvered.
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