Finally, in front of the portrait of the fat lady, Percy spoke the password, "Dragon's Breath," and the portrait swung open to reveal the hole behind it.
A wave of warm air, smelling of woodsmoke and old parchment, rushed toward them.
They had arrived at the Gryffindor common room.
It was a cozy, circular tower room, its walls covered in scarlet hangings embroidered with golden lions.
In the fireplace, a roaring fire crackled and popped.
Soft armchairs and sofas were arranged neatly, and the entire space was bathed in a reassuring, warm glow of red and gold.
The fire burning in the hearth and its warm orange light made Lia, who had been on high alert, feel a wave of irresistible drowsiness.
Her little head rubbed against Hermione's chest as she found a more comfortable position and let out a satisfied purr.
Hermione carried her straight to an empty sofa by the fireplace and sat down; Lia immediately slid out of her arms.
She sniffed the sofa cushions warily first, and after confirming there was no scent of danger, she skillfully kneaded the soft cushions before curling up in a cozy spot nearest the fire.
Enveloped in the comforting warmth, she completely flattened out into a fluffy white "cat pancake," leaving only a long, furry tail hanging off the edge of the sofa, twitching occasionally.
Percy was announcing the dormitory assignments and rules, but Fred and George couldn't help themselves; they crept over and crouched in front of the sofa, looking at Lia as if she were a rare Magical Creature.
"Hey, Hermione," Fred whispered. "So... is she just going to be like this tonight?"
"Can we pet her now? We promise our hands are clean!" George raised his hands, which he had just cleaned with a Scouring Charm, and gave them a sincere wave.
He even pointed his palms upward to show he posed no threat.
"Tonight..." Hermione looked down at the dazed white furball and said softly, "I'll figure something out."
As for petting... she had intended to refuse outright, but seeing the twins' puppy-like looks of anticipation, she swallowed her words.
Perhaps the sound of their discussion woke the lightly sleeping kitten; Lia's furry ears twitched, and she slowly opened her blue eyes. Seeing the two red-haired boys crouching in front of her, her body instinctively tensed for a moment.
"Don't be afraid, they're Ron's brothers. They're good people," Hermione said, immediately reaching out to stroke Lia's back from head to tail in a soothing manner.
With Hermione's reassurance, Lia's guard lowered slightly. She tilted her head, curiously observing Fred and George. She could feel that there wasn't a hint of malice in them, only pure curiosity and... a bit of silliness.
Even if this silliness was much milder than Ron's.
Seeing this, George tentatively reached out a finger at an extremely slow pace, stopping it some distance from Lia's nose.
Lia sniffed hesitantly; there was no scent of food, but there was no scent of danger either.
After a moment's thought, she still shrank back toward Hermione.
Just then, Lia seemed to make a major decision. She cautiously poked her head out and gently rubbed her cheek against George's still finger, then immediately retracted, burying her face back into the sofa cushion and leaving them with only the back of her furry head.
This brief contact was like a treasure to Fred and George; the two of them pumped their fists excitedly, celebrating silently.
Several nearby Gryffindor students who had been watching also let out friendly chuckles.
[Ah! My favorite kitty was petted!]
Hermione was screaming internally, but she had to maintain a smile on her face.
Fortunately, after a while, as if she felt her socializing was done, Lia jumped off the sofa herself and dove into Hermione's arms, refusing to show her face again.
This finally smoothed over the slight annoyance in Hermione's heart, and she contentedly hugged her "recovered" little accessory.
Carrying Lia, Hermione followed the other girls up the spiral staircase leading to the girls' dormitory.
Their dormitory, like the common room, was a circular room in the Castle tower, containing five four-poster beds with deep red flannel hangings that partitioned each bed into a small private space.
As soon as Hermione stepped into the room, two girls from her dormitory—Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown—immediately surrounded her.
"Oh! My goodness! Hermione!" Lavender let out a suppressed squeal of delight, her eyes sparkling as she stared at Lia in Hermione's arms. "Is that... that Cat-girl? She's so cute! Can I hold her?"
Parvati also leaned in, her face filled with the same curiosity and affection. "Her fur looks so smooth, like silk. Is she Lia?"
Faced with her two new roommates' enthusiasm, Hermione instinctively hugged Lia tighter. She could feel Lia's body stiffen again due to the proximity of strangers.
"Her name is Lia," Hermione said softly, taking a polite half-step back to dodge Lavender's outstretched hand. "I'm sorry, she's... very shy. Let's not startle her for now. Perhaps you can ask her yourself after she changes back."
Hermione's protective stance was so obvious that Lavender and Parvati exchanged a look, and though disappointed, they were sensible enough not to persist.
Carrying Lia, Hermione walked straight to the bed by the window, which was hers. She pulled the thick scarlet hangings shut, sealing out all the curiosity and noise from the outside world.
In this small, private space belonging only to the two of them, Lia's frayed nerves finally relaxed completely.
She shifted her body and slid from Hermione's arms onto the soft mattress.
There was another soft "poof" sound.
It was Lia, having transformed back into her Cat-girl form.
She was still wearing the Hogwarts school uniform that Dumbledore had modified, though she was barefoot, her pristine snowy-white feet treading on the soft sheets. Her long silvery-white hair was a bit messy, and her blue eyes held exhaustion and confusion.
"Are you okay?" Hermione immediately crouched down to eye level. Looking at Lia's pale face, she asked with concern, "Back in the Great Hall... why did you suddenly..."
Hermione's voice was full of worry. She picked up a clean towel from the bedside table and gently wiped the fine beads of cold sweat from Lia's forehead, caused by her nerves.
Lia shook her head.
She didn't know how to explain it to Hermione.
That fear of sharp blades and cutting, etched into the deepest part of her soul, was a nightmare that no words could describe.
She couldn't even fully recall the face of the black-robed Wizard, but the pain and despair that had seeped into her bones were clearer than any memory.
A thousand words eventually condensed into a single, tiny whisper.
"I'm scared..."
She reached out and gripped Hermione's arm tightly in dependence.
This action and this look spoke louder than any explanation.
Hermione's heart softened instantly, and a strong protective urge welled up within her.
She didn't press further, but simply hugged Lia and gently stroked her small head.
"It's alright now. You're safe here."
After settling the obviously exhausted Lia and letting her rest against the pillows, Hermione Granger's studious nature began to stir.
To her, the most important thing on the first night of school was to preview tomorrow's lessons.
From her bag, she carefully pulled out the copy of History of Magic, which was as thick as a brick.
Lia had been leaning against the pillows, her eyelids already drooping, but when Hermione opened the book, her attention was caught again.
She leaned over curiously, resting her small head on Hermione's shoulder from behind.
To her, the words in the book looked like rows of neatly arranged, strangely shaped black bugs; she didn't recognize a single one.
However, the moving illustrations fascinated her.
She saw a stout Wizard on a broomstick clumsily dodging stones thrown by Goblins, and an ancient map of the Castle where little figures were walking around.
It was all incredibly novel.
Hermione was reading with intense focus, completely immersed in the dry but information-rich sea of text by Professor Bathilda Bagshot.
By the candlelight, she took notes on parchment with her quill as she read, completely failing to notice that her "little accessory" beside her was undergoing a new change.
After an unknown amount of time, Hermione turned a page, preparing to continue reading the chapter on "Goblin Rebellions," when she suddenly felt the pages grow heavy, making them difficult to turn.
She looked down in confusion.
Then, she froze.
Without her noticing, Lia had quietly climbed onto her desk and was now lying right in the center of the open History of Magic, fast asleep.
Lia slept without any defenses, her small chest rising and falling steadily with her breath, her furry ears occasionally twitching as she dreamed.
Most outrageous of all, her little mouth was slightly open, and a drop of crystal-clear drool even hung from the corner of her lip.
As Hermione watched, the drop of drool finally became too heavy and fell with a "splat," landing precisely on the title of the "Goblin Rebellions" chapter and quickly spreading into a small, translucent watermark.
Hermione: "!..."
Her first thought was, Merlin's stockings! My book!
She almost instinctively reached out to pick up the furry "culprit" who had "desecrated" sacred knowledge.
However, her hand stopped halfway.
The candlelight fell softly on the kitten, gilding its snowy fur with a warm, golden halo.
She was sleeping so sweetly and peacefully, as if the entire world had nothing to do with her.
That tranquil sleeping face and defenseless posture possessed a magic that made one's heart soften.
Hermione's outstretched hand froze in mid-air for a moment before finally changing direction to land softly and carefully on the kitten's back, giving it a gentle stroke.
All her anger and her fastidiousness regarding her books vanished in that instant.
She gave a deep sigh. It was a sigh full of helplessness; she gave up.
She gently pulled out another book from the side—The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 1.
She propped the book up next to History of Magic and, adjusting herself to an extremely awkward angle, leaned over to continue reading by candlelight.
In the quiet dormitory late at night, only the scratching of the quill on parchment and the steady breathing of a kitten remained.
As Hermione struggled to decipher the spells in the new book, she couldn't help but mutter in a voice only she could hear, her tone full of amused resignation.
"merlins beard... A cat... grew on my book."