Hermione's shock was mirrored in the other girls' eyes. Padma was the first to recover. "So...Draco Malfoy dropped you off at my dorm? And cast a memory charm on me? If he doesn't want anyone else to know how much he likes cats, that makes sense...sort of..."
"I guess. Unless anyone else has that scent." Hermione shrugged. "And we've got no way of telling that."
"Oh, yes we do!" Ginny bounced up and down on Padma's bed. "Hermione, how good is your nose when you're a cat?"
"Pretty good--oh no. Nonononono. I'm not going to sneak around Hogwarts trying to find a scent. Besides, I don't particularly want people to see me."
Padma sighed with exasperation. "You want to know who saved you, right? Because that could hold a lot of answers. So do it."
"Fine, fine, I'll do it tomorrow morning, at breakfast."
"That's the spirit! Now go, thy Ranger awaits." Ginny pushed her gently out the door.
.
Draco sprawled elegantly in the moonlight, tail twitching gently. At least now he knew Mala was okay...and maybe she wouldn't think quite so badly of Draco Malfoy the human. Although he hadn't minded that three quarters of the Hogwarts student body hated him and thought him a pompous, egotistical jerk for six years, he somehow minded that Mala did. It was odd that he cared so much, but he chalked it up to desire for variety. Everyone hated him or feared him or both; it was time for someone to like him. And the opportunity had presented itself in the form of a slender golden cat who was just rounding the corner.
"Mala."
"Ranger."
There was a silence in which Draco lounged comfortably and Mala shifted uncomfortably. Finally, the latter sat back and broke the silence. "Do you know anything about Draco Malfoy?"
The question surprised Draco, and he hesitated. "Well...yes. Sort of. Why?"
"Oh, I just wanted to know if he's a schizo or something...I ran across him in the hall this morning and he was acting really weird. It sort of freaked me out."
Freaked you out? I go and bother to be nice, and you get freaked out? Oh well, I guess I can't blame you. Unconsciously, Draco preened a little. After all, he was the king of Slytherin. No, screw that--the god of Slytherin. Slowly, a mildly inquisitive stare settled into his consciousness. "What?" he asked innocently.
"You were looking rather self-satisfied just now. So, is Malfoy's condition official?"
"Condition?"
"Insanity." Mala began to clean her whiskers.
"Ha-ha-ha. I snigger, I chuckle, I don't. Anyway, do you usually wander around the Slytherin dungeons during the day? You could have gotten hurt. It was lucky that I--that Draco found you."
Hermione had spent the past six years taking notes on seemingly insignificant details. Ranger's slip did not escape her; had he somehow warned Malfoy? In that case, was he in contact with the Slytherins? Still, she tried not to think too much on it, filing it away in her brain for later use. In a lighter tone, she turned the conversation away from her diurnal habits.
"You call him Draco? What are you, his pet or something?"
"Hey, hey, I already told you I don't do the whole pet scene. And I assume you don't either."
"Nope. I couldn't imagine being owned...it would be so degrading."
"What about house elves? They don't mind." That was the wrong thing to say to Hermione Granger in any species. In the next hour and a half, Draco heard more about house elves and their rights than he'd ever wanted to know in his life. Finally, he tapped her paw with his. "Er, Mala? You can stop now."
.
She'd been delivering a spirited monologue addressing the 'despicable quarters given to the poor elves,' and stopped short abruptly. "Sorry," Hermione sighed. "I get a little...carried away. Was I boring you? I mean, of course I--I'm babbling now, aren't I? I'm sorry. Really, I am--"
"Sweet Merlin, Mala, don't cringe like that. I'm not going to hit you or anything." Ranger sounds almost...amused, thought Hermione. "I didn't mind listening."
.
To his own surprise, Draco found that this was true. She had a lovely voice that was somehow familiar...yet he couldn't match her cadences and tones to anything he'd known before. When she was speaking passionately about something, her voice seemed to glow.
"You didn't?" Now her voice was soft, almost lost. Grinning, Draco shook his head. "No, I didn't. You've got a beautiful voice...like music. I could listen to it all night." I didn't just say that. I did not just say that. Please, let me not have said that. But he had, and Mala was looking at him with something akin to wonder in her eyes.
.
Hermione was at a loss. No male had ever paid her a personal compliment, other than 'You're a genius, Hermione! Why didn't I think of that?' or the like. And those, she knew, came mainly from Harry and Ron after she helped them with Transfiguration homework...and Arithmancy homework...and Charms homework...and Potions homework...and Herbology homework...actually, now that she came to think of it, Harry and Ron would probably never have passed any exams if she hadn't helped them. This was rather a new experience, and definitely a pleasant one. "Th-thanks," she managed to get out.
"Don't mention it." His tone was slightly icier...but perhaps that was her imagination.
"Anyway," she hurried on, "I expect the sun will be rising soon. I'd better go. Bye!" And then she was gone, leaving a rather bemused Draco in her wake.
.
"I don't think it's going to rise for another few hours," he commented to the empty hall.
.
Just before breakfast, Ginny and Padma cornered Hermione. "Of course you remember what you promised to do. Now get out there and find that cologne!"
"Is it really that important?" Hermione asked weakly. The other two just glared at her.
Several minutes later, Hermione found herself creeping behind tapestries and suits of armor in the dining hall as a cat, trying to trace a single scent. And she couldn't even find it. Then-- there it was, as warm and refined as she'd remembered. Carefully, she followed the memory of the scent, careful to stick to walls and shadows, until she found its source--Draco Malfoy. But we already know he's got that cologne. Who else has it? Closing her eyes, she scanned the room with her nose. Nothing. Suddenly, a thick, sweaty hand grabbed her by her scruff. "Hey, look! It's a kitty cat!"
Hermione inadvertently winced at Goyle's booming voice. Oh Merlin... Then another voice, cool and crisp as a shard of ice, cut through the air. "Put her down." Hermione's eyes snapped open. Malfoy, as suave as ever, was sitting a few feet away. "Didn't your mother ever teach you not to tease animals?" he idly inquired, running his thumb down the length of his wand. "They sometimes...bite back."
"Yeah, sure, whatever." Goyle opened his hand and Hermione tumbled in an ungraceful heap to the cold stone floor. Another voice, higher pitched and on the verge of panic...
"Oh, I'm soo sorry about that--that's my cat, she must have gotten loose somehow, I'm really sorry, I'll take her now thankyouverymuch!" Ginny scooped Hermione up, babbling apologetically and backing away as fast as she could. Ginny bolted for the outside hall and, once there, leaned against the wall. "Merlin, that was close. Just get back to your dorm and for Gryffindor's sake try to look like you've been sick all morning. Oh, before you go--did you find anything?"
Hermione shook her head. "It must have been Malfoy, then. That's three times he's saved my skin. I wonder why..."
Shrugging, Ginny propelled Hermione to her dorm room. "It's probably coincidence. Now, go and be sick!"
Hermione flopped back on her bed and cast a quick charm to make her paler and slightly queasy-looking. The only drawback was that now she actually felt sick. Just think about something else... Ranger. Was that slip just a mistake, or does it mean something? Hermione sat bolt upright as what exactly it might mean crossed her mind. It can't be. No, that's farfetched even for me. But...I'll talk to Ginny and Padma. Maybe they'll have an idea.
"So that's why I think that Malfoy's really a cat," Hermione concluded several hours later.
Padma blinked. "Run that by me again?"
