Lia curled up on the bed and transformed into a cat.
Seeing this, Hermione skillfully carried Lia into the bathroom.
The bathroom was filled with swirling steam.
The process was full of clumsy intimacy. Lia squinted her eyes comfortably, letting Hermione help rinse her fur while letting out a satisfied purr from her throat.
When she walked out wrapped in Hermione's large bathrobe, the little kitten, fresh from her bath and still soaking wet, had water dripping from her hair.
At dinner time, a wonderful harmony appeared at The Granger Family dinner table.
The Grangers were still trying hard to treat Lia as an ordinary classmate of their daughter who was staying over. But their behavior betrayed them.
"Lia, try these beans—oh, sorry, maybe you don't like..." Mr. Granger handed over a spoonful of baked beans, then awkwardly pulled it back, remembering that cats didn't seem to eat them.
"Mom, where is Lia's fish?" Hermione asked directly.
"Here it is, here it is." Mrs. Granger immediately brought out a small plate from the kitchen like she was presenting a treasure. On it was a piece of cod, carefully deboned and lightly pan-fried in butter, garnished with two sprigs of green broccoli.
"Thank you, Ma'am," Lia said softly, then picked up the small round-tipped fork Hermione gave her and began to eat in small bites.
Her eating posture was elegant, carrying a certain Feline nobility, yet she appeared exceptionally serious because of her love for the food. Her cat ears twitched slightly with her chewing, and The Grangers watched her without blinking.
They felt like they weren't eating with their daughter's classmate, but rather watching a documentary of some rare animal feeding.
Night fell.
Lia changed into Hermione's pajamas. The hem of the T-shirt barely covered her thighs, leaving her two straight, slender calves exposed, while her long, fluffy tail extended from behind, restlessly sweeping across the bedsheets.
She curled up beside Hermione, watching as Hermione pulled a hardcover book with exquisite illustrations from the bookshelf.
"Hans Christian Andersen's Fairy Tales."
"I'll read you a story." Hermione opened the book and found "The Little Mermaid."
In a steady and clear tone, she began to tell the story of The Little Mermaid who, in pursuit of a world she didn't belong to and to gain the prince's love, was willing to endure great pain and eventually turned into sea foam.
Lia listened very intently.
In her world, there was only survival, hunting, flight, and death. Love, sacrifice, asking for nothing in return... these concepts were like a language from another dimension to her, strange and distant.
"Why?" When Hermione read about The Little Mermaid trading her voice for legs, where every step felt like treading on knife points, Lia couldn't help but speak up, her voice light and filled with confusion, "Why would she hurt herself?"
Hermione closed the book and looked at her: "Because she loved that prince. Love sometimes makes people do... irrational things."
"Does love... hurt?" Lia's blue eyes were filled with pure bewilderment.
"Sometimes it does." Hermione thought for a moment, organizing her words, "But the happiness it brings makes you feel like all that pain is worth it."
Lia half-understood. She lowered her head, looking at her tail wrapped around Hermione's wrist, then looked up at Hermione.
Hermione gave her shelter, making her feel warm and safe. She was willing to take a Killing Curse for Hermione—was that love too? But she didn't feel pain; she only knew that she absolutely could not let Hermione suffer any harm.
"Go to sleep." Hermione ruffled her hair and turned off the bedside lamp.
The room fell into darkness, with only the moonlight peeking through the gaps in the curtains, casting a silver glow.
The next day was bright and sunny.
The Granger Family's garden was beautifully tended; the roses were in full bloom, and bees buzzed among the flowers.
Lia seemed truly affected by this peaceful vitality. She changed back into her Ragdoll Cat form and chased a colorful butterfly on the soft lawn, her snowy-white body rolling and leaping on the green grass, every movement full of elegance and energy.
Mr. Granger leaned back in his lounge chair, pretending to read The Times, but his eyes behind the newspaper didn't leave the lively cat for a single second.
Mrs. Granger came out carrying a plate of freshly baked, steaming butter cookies.
"Lia, come try this." She crouched down and called softly.
The white cat stopped her chase, walked over with elegant Feline steps, sniffed the sweet-smelling cookie, then stuck out her pink tongue and carefully licked a bit of the cream on top.
The next second, she squinted her eyes in happiness.
Mrs. Granger was moved to laughter by her cute appearance, feeling her heart melt from the cuteness.
Seeing this scene, Mr. Granger finally couldn't hold back anymore.
He put down the newspaper, cleared his throat, and slowly approached in what he thought was his most kind and non-threatening manner.
"Lovely weather, isn't it?" he said, while slowly reaching out his hand, his target clear—that fluffy back that looked like it would feel wonderful to touch.
This time, Lia didn't run away immediately.
She simply stopped licking the cream and looked up, her sapphire-like eyes quietly watching Mr. Granger.
Then, she let out a very low, very soft... "Grumble..."
It wasn't a threat, but more like a warning, a clear demarcation of boundaries.
Mr. Granger's fingers stopped less than a centimeter from her back.
Just as he was hesitating whether to move forward or retreat, the white cat turned elegantly and walked toward Hermione, who was sitting on the grass reading.
She didn't jump directly into Hermione's arms like last time.
Instead, in front of everyone, right beside Hermione, her body was enveloped in a soft light and rapidly lengthened and transformed.
A few seconds later, the petite and exquisite Cat-girl was sitting steadily by Hermione's side.
She didn't say anything; she just picked up one of Hermione's hands from the grass and then placed that hand on top of her own head.
After doing all this, she also rubbed comfortably against Hermione's palm, letting out a satisfied purr, while her deep blue eyes glanced at Mr. Granger, who was frozen in place.
That look clearly conveyed a message:
See? Only she can pet me.
Mr. Granger: "..."
Mrs. Granger couldn't hold it in any longer and burst out laughing.
Hermione was also stunned for a moment, her face flushing red, but a strange, domineering sense of satisfaction welled up in her heart.
Obediently, and with a hint of showing off, she gently stroked Lia's smooth silver hair and the slightly twitching cat ears on top of her head.
The afternoon passed in such a warm atmosphere, tinged with a curious sense of possessiveness.
In the evening, the afterglow of the setting sun dyed the sky a warm orange-red.
Hermione and Lia sat side-by-side on the bedroom windowsill, watching the quiet street below, watching neighbors walk and children ride their bicycles past with laughter.
This was a world Lia had never seen before, far different from the temporary atmosphere of Christmas that filled the streets.
This daily life had more of a human scent.
That night, Hermione didn't read fairy tales again; she just softly told Lia interesting stories from her childhood—how she fell into a rose bush the first time she rode a bike, and how she pestered her parents for a month to get an out-of-print book.
Lia listened quietly, her body leaning against Hermione, feeling the body heat coming from her.
She felt like a small boat that had drifted in a storm for too long and had finally found a warm harbor where it could anchor forever.
Just then, the doorbell rang downstairs.
A moment later, Mrs. Granger came upstairs holding a letter.
"Hermione, a letter for you."
The envelope was an ordinary Muggle envelope with a stamp, and the postmark showed it was from London.
Hermione opened the letter and scanned it quickly.
It was from Ron; in his crooked handwriting, he excitedly confirmed the date for them to go to Diagon Alley to buy supplies for the new school year.
It was next week.
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