Hermione said she'd let it go, but her sense of responsibility as a top Gryffindor student was like a small feather, persistently tickling her reason.
Letting Harry, a walking magnet for trouble, wander around Hogsmeade?
merlins beard, that was even more unrealistic than Lia completing a Potions essay on her own.
She picked up her butterbeer and gave Parvati and Lavender an apologetic smile. "I'm going to the counter to get Lia some more hot chocolate; hers is getting cold."
The girls didn't suspect a thing, continuing their excited discussion about the possibility of exploring the Shrieking Shack.
Holding her cup, Hermione walked nonchalantly toward the bar's entrance and stopped in that empty corner.
Pretending to examine the wanted posters on the wall, she lowered her voice to a whisper. "Harry Potter, I know you're here. Are you insane?"
A faint sound of fabric rubbing came from the air.
"How did you..."
"Lia smelled you," Hermione interrupted him quickly, her tone as stern as if she were answering Snape's question in class. "If Filch catches you, you can forget about Quidditch for the rest of the term!"
"But Hermione, I..."
"Ding-ling—"
The wind chime at the bar entrance let out a crisp ring as a gust of cold wind poured in.
Hermione's words cut off abruptly, her pupils shrinking instantly.
It wasn't students walking through the door, but the Minister for Magic, Cornelius Fudge, followed by Professor McGonagall, Professor Flitwick, and the massive figure of Hagrid.
It was over.
Hermione's mind raced, reacting within a second. She spun around, grabbed the "void" of the cloak beside her, and with irresistible force, dragged the invisible Harry directly under their table.
On the other side, she gave Lia the simplest command:
"Lia, turn into a cat, quick!"
Almost the moment the words left her mouth, Lia's petite body curled up in a shimmer of light. The silver-haired Cat-girl vanished, and a snow-white Ragdoll Cat appeared on the seat.
With an agile leap, it dove into Hermione's thick wool robes, expertly finding the warmest and most comfortable spot against her chest to curl up.
This sequence of movements was as fast as lightning. By the time Parvati and Lavender's attention was drawn by the arriving dignitaries, Hermione was already sitting back in her place with a normal expression, though a soft bulge was visible at the chest of her robes.
Under the table, Harry was forced to crouch, not daring to breathe.
"Don't make a sound!" Hermione warned silently with her lips.
"...A small glass of redcurrant rum, Rosmerta," Fudge said gruffly to the landlady.
"None for me, thank you," Professor McGonagall's voice was clear and calm. "I'll have a small Gillywater."
"The same for me," Professor Flitwick squeaked.
"A pint for me, then," said Hagrid.
The dignitaries sat at another table not far from them, their conversation carrying over clearly.
"...Poor Harry Potter, how is he?" Madam Rosmerta's voice was full of concern.
"We were just going to see him, but he wasn't in his dormitory," Professor McGonagall replied.
Hermione's heart leaped into her throat; she could feel Harry's body go rigid under the table.
The conversation quickly turned to the name that had the entire wizarding world on edge—Sirius Black.
In Hermione's arms, the fluffy little thing moved.
A pure white cat head poked cautiously out from the collar of her robes, its sky-blue eyes looking curiously toward the source of the voices.
"...You say Black and the Potters used to be good friends?" Madam Rosmerta exclaimed.
"Best friends," Professor McGonagall's voice lowered. "They were inseparable."
Just then, Professor McGonagall's gaze inadvertently swept over toward Hermione and met those peeking cat eyes.
Lia's ears twitched, seemingly a bit nervous about being caught.
On Professor McGonagall's perpetually stern face, the lines seemed to soften for a fraction of a second.
She didn't show any surprise or reproach; she merely gave a tiny, almost imperceptible nod before turning back nonchalantly, as if she hadn't seen a thing.
Hermione's heart finally settled back into her chest.
This was tacit permission.
"...Black was the Potters' Secret-Keeper; he sold them out to You-Know-Who," Fudge's voice rang out gloomily.
Betrayal.
Hermione felt Lia's nose twitch slightly in her arms.
As a cat, she couldn't understand the complex meaning of the word, but her innate Eye of Truth and keen sense of smell allowed her to catch a nauseating scent from the emotional fluctuations accompanying those words.
It was like a drop of rotten meat juice mixed into fresh milk.
"...More than that," Fudge continued, "Peter Pettigrew, another friend of the Potters, went after Black..."
Hagrid let out a whimper.
"...Black killed him with a single curse, along with twelve Muggles on the street. Only one of Peter's fingers was found at the scene..."
"Peter."
When that name was spoken, Lia's nose wrinkled even tighter.
That "wrong" smell grew ten times stronger.
It was no longer meat juice in milk, but a whole bucket of trash soaked in the stench of lies, decay, and death.
It was pungent and false, making her let out a low growl of extreme disgust from her throat.
The sound was very faint; only Hermione, who was pressed against her, could feel the vibration in her chest.
Under the table, Harry had long since turned bloodless.
Listening to the truth about his parents' death, his hands were clenched into tight fists, his nails digging deep into his palms.
His intense grief and hatred burned like fire in this small space.
Lia's cat ears turned downward; she could clearly "smell" the thick aura of pain coming from under the table.
She hesitated for a moment, then let her fluffy tail hang down through a gap in the robes, gently and tentatively patting Harry's shoulder twice.
Harry jolted, turning his head to look at the warm, soft tail. The warmth coming from it strangely soothed the wild rage in his heart.
Subconsciously, he wanted to touch the fluffy long tail, but before his hand could reach it, she sensed him and slapped the back of his hand with her tail.
Fine, no touching... The conversation continued.
"Black is a madman; he's coming for Harry now..."
"The Dementors of Azkaban will deal with him..."
Finally, the Professors and the Minister finished their conversation, paid, and left the bar in a flurry of wind chimes.
Hermione let out a long sigh of relief and immediately crawled out from under the table.
Parvati and Lavender's faces were written with shock and lingering fear.
"Oh my god... Harry..." Parvati didn't know what to say as she watched a pale Harry crawl out from under the table.
Harry didn't say a word; like a puppet whose soul had been snatched away, he turned and rushed out of the bar.
"Harry!" Hermione shouted urgently, but it was too late.
Hermione watched the doorway with concern, but ultimately sat back down. She felt the cat in her arms still squirming uneasily and looked down to ask softly, "What's wrong, Lia? Are you uncomfortable?"
The fluffy little head poked completely out of her collar, its sky-blue eyes filled with confusion and disgust.
Her little paw rested on Hermione's collarbone, while her fluffy tail pointed in one direction—not toward the door where the Professors had left, nor the direction Harry had run, but toward the other end of the bar, where Ron had excitedly run off to find his brothers earlier.
Hermione followed the tip of her tail; there were only a few empty tables and some laughing upper-year students.
"What's wrong, Lia? What's over there?"
Lia changed back into her Cat-girl form and leaned close to Hermione's ear. She seemed to loathe that smell, struggling to organize her limited vocabulary, and said clearly in a trembling, soft voice:
"Hermione... over there..."
"Hmm?"
"There's... the smell of that 'Peter' from just now."
Hermione froze, thinking she had misheard.
"What did you say?"
Lia wrinkled her small nose, the expression on her face both disgusted and certain.
"It's the scent of lies. Old, stinky, and mixed with the smell of dust."
She paused, her azure eyes reflecting Hermione's shocked face, and added the most crucial sentence.
"That smell is right next to Ron."
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