A/n: Before I get on with this chapter, I just want to thank MysticSam for all her help on this. I owe her big-time for helping me dish out this thing… so lets hear it for her -signals round of applause.- Well, anyway, on with the show!

Chapter 4: Sulking, Shopping, and Slimy Slytherins

Mondays…

Dreary, dank, rainy, boring Mondays…

This particular Monday was no exception to the rule…

This Monday, August 25th was a dreadful day, at least as far as weather goes. The rain had been pouring in buckets since the following night, and it hadn't stopped since. Ominous clouds sheltered streaking lightning and mighty thunderclaps that shook the darkened sky.

Normally, such a storm found Hermione Granger curled in between her mother and father, seeking warmth and protection against the terror of such elements. Today, however, was much different indeed.

Hermione was curled up on her own bed, the large body of her feline companion curled around her in an offering of safety and warmth, which she gladly took. It was quite a sight to behold really. Her head rested against his thick neck, face buried in that thatch of fur, while one of his huge paws rested on her side as if he were holding her close.

But the young witch's mind was not occupied with her current position, yet with deeper thoughts, darker undercurrents.

'The nerve of that ruddy git…' that random thought echoed through her head, yet, the same anger that had been behind it three days ago had somewhat cooled and perhaps subsided. The words, now, accompanied a sense of sorrow, self-justification, and possibly just a tinge of regret.

'He deserved it… every word of it.'

Maybe just not quite as harshly as it was delivered, hmm?

'I think he got it just like it should have been given; straight and to the point with no sugar-coatings or soft underbellies. He's never gotten anything else from me that way, why should this be different?'

Perhaps…But did you see the look on his face afterwards? You can't tell me you actually enjoyed that…

'Well of course I didn't! He is my best friend, after all. I would never take pleasure or satisfaction in his pain.'

Then, Ms. Granger, why did you feel better afterwards? Why did it feel like a load off your shoulders, a weight lifted after so many months of compression and agony?

'Because…'

Yes? Because what?

'Because… I…'

Because now you've said your piece. Because after what seemed like years of standing by and watching him fall deeper and deeper into that pit of insecurities and jealousy, after hoping and wishing that it was all a faze, you've finally made a move and told him what no one else would tell him, in a way that no one else would dare broach.

"That's right, isn't it Bast?" she suddenly said to her feline companion, leaning back a bit to look up into his face.

"I did say what needed to be said. I told him exactly what he needed to hear, in the way it needed to be said instead of arguing with him 'till I was blue in the face. I told him exactly what he needed to know to get his head out of his arse and start thinking of others. Right?" she asked him again, almost desperately as she looked into his bottomless green eyes that bore into her own. He didn't do anything to indicate the affirmative or negative to her question. Rather, he just stared as if searching for something, something that had caused that tremble of doubt in her voice.

Perhaps she was afraid he'd find it, for she closed her eyes and sighed, laying her head against his neck once again.

"Then… why do I feel so… guilty?"

Because… You are keeping secrets, Ms. Granger… (A/n: Can anyone guess what those secrets are?)

Harry closed his eyes and buried his nose in Hermione's hair, breathing in her calming scent to perhaps douse his emblazoned temper.

He couldn't stand thinking about Ron for one minute, especially after seeing that desperate, almost haunted look in Mione's eyes. Yet it seemed like no matter how hard he tried, his mind kept going back to that stupid argument.

He was feeling everything from betrayal, to hurt, to indescribable rage.

What confused him, though, was that he didn't quite understand why…

Most of the time, he didn't care about Ron's jealousy of him because he chalked it up to his touchiness about his family's financial state. Why should he care, when he knew the circumstances under which his fame and fortune came? Besides, Ron always came around eventually. Everyone had their break-away every now and again, it was just natural in a friendship.

But then why had it affected him so… deeply this time?

Glancing down at the young witch curled so closely next to him, he came to a startling conclusion. The difference in all those arguments and the previous one was very simple; Ron was attacking Hermione because of Harry.

When Ron was standing there, bellowing accusations in Hermione's face, Harry's protective instincts flared to life immediately, and he might have done something rash had Hermione not intervened with her own 'choice words.'

Again, he didn't care that Ron took cheap shots at him, or lashed out at him in his jealousy; he was used to such treatment as he was privy to years of abuse from his 'family.' He found himself at odds, however, when Ron decided it would be a good idea to attack Hermione for being a good friend.

For all intents and purposes, Hermione was most likely a good girlfriend and Ron just couldn't stand the fact of having something good going for him for once and had had to ruin it.

'I'd never treat her that way…'

Whoa… okay, where the bloody hell did that come from? His mind had suddenly gone from good friend to girlfriend and he wasn't even aware of that split second change.

Harry shied away from the thought, but try as he might, it kept resurfacing in his mind. Would it be so bad , Hermione as his girlfriend? Although the idea at first seemed ludicrous, the more his mind replayed the possibilities the more it became, dare he even think it… appealing. Oh, and wouldn't it be the perfect revenge--to actually prove Ron right after the fact and have him live with the knowledge that he was the one that had pushed Harry and Hermione together in the first place? A plan instantly began to formulate in his head.

And the reason behind said plan?

Although the excuse he gave himself for wanting to get together with Hermione was to get back at Ron, there was a part of him that whispered, 'Who do you think you're kidding, Potter? You know you were jealous as all get-out when you found out Ron and Hermione were together-- even if they were broken up at the time. That's the true reason you're mad at him-- subconsciously, you've always wanted her, and it took Ron's mistreating her for you to realize it.'

Of course, he wasn't quite smart enough to formulate a plan of attack that complicated, especially where Hermione was involved. She'd see right through him, and in doing so, would most likely never speak to him again for his antics.

Besides, he didn't even know if she felt that way for him. How could she? She was a beautiful, brilliant, and absolutely breath-taking young woman with aspirations and goals for her life; what the hell would she want with him?

Yet, even as he asked himself that question, he had to reason that no other girl would EVER do for him the things that Hermione's done.

Perhaps there was hope… But hope for what? Hope that she could possibly have feelings for him? And just what would he do if she did?

Harry was prevented from further musings, brought out of his thoughts by the movement at his side.

He looked up to find that Hermione was suddenly on her feet, a determined expression on her face.

C'mon Bast," she said firmly. "Let's go outside."

He shot her a look that clearly conveyed 'Are you mad? It's bloody pouring out there…' With that, he curled on his side, and even went so far as to close his eyes. Hermione's expression was beyond amused. "Oh come on. You know you want to come outside with me. Besides, look" casting a quick charm under her breath, she pointed at the window, though not before hiding her wand behind her back. "The rain's letting up."

She gave him her best sad look, figuring if it worked on Harry and Ron on the rare occasions she did use it, it was bound to work on Bast, who reminded her so much of Harry as it was. He gave her a disgruntled look and his ears flattened against his head, but he reluctantly followed her out the door, down the stairs, and out into the backyard.

Two steps out, however, he yowled in surprise as cold rain hit the back of his neck, causing him to make a mad dash back to the porch.

Hermione couldn't help it; she cracked up, giggling helplessly at the insulted expression on her feline companion's face.

"Oh, it's not that bad!"

In the event of her laughter, she began twirling carelessly in circles in the pouring rain. She held out her arms and raised her face to the sky, breathing in the cool, fresh scent.
Still a little miffed, Harry settled to watch, his tail twitching involuntarily as water trickled down his back. 'The things I do for that girl…' he grumbled to himself. 'I'm a cat--cats don't like water, which I'm sure she knows. I bet she never made Crookshanks do that…'

The other cat in question was no where to be seen--probably warm, dry, and asleep on Hermione's bed--so he didn't even have anyone to complain to.

Hermione ignored him for the moment, twirling faster and faster, her feet bare in the wet grass. She looked like a water nymph, free and magical.

Intrigued despite himself, Harry inched forward out into the rain.

She saw him move, but didn't acknowledge his presence until he was right beside her. Suddenly, she reached out in an almost unseen move and tugged lightly on his tail. "Tag! You're it!" She exclaimed mischievously, and took off running across the yard.

Instinctively, Harry bounded after her, taking advantage of his more nimble animal form and Seeker reflexes to cut her off each time she dodged and made for escape. It didn't quite help that she was laughing uncontrollably as he chased her.

He finally cornered her in the far end of the yard and nudged her hard in the thigh with his nose.
"Okay, okay!" she laughed. "You caught me. Let's go back inside--I'm freezing!"
Breathless, and feeling lighter than she had in months, Hermione ran back for the house with Bast hot on her heels. She paused in the mud room for towels to dry off the worst of the muck and wetness that they had accumulated before heading upstairs for dry clothes and a warm shower.
Harry didn't have the same advantage, so he found a spot in front of the fire and settled down on the rug to dry out the regular way. Hermione could've easily dried them both instantly with a flick of her wand but, like Harry was prone to do, she reverted back to Muggle habits and methods when she was at home.

He was nearly dry by the time she padded back downstairs, now dressed in a warm pair of flannel pajamas and her hair pulled up in a messy bun atop her head.

"Rather than waiting for the stove to heat up in the cold kitchen, I thought we'd have dinner out here," she told Bast cheerfully, pulling out a pack of hot dogs, some buns, and her wand.

Within mere seconds, there were hotdogs and buns floating over the fireplace, cooking to perfection. Settling down on the rug, she used Bast as a backrest, closing her eyes with a sigh.

"That was the most fun I've had in a long time," she said quietly, running her hands lazily through his coat. Harry closed his eyes in contentment as a low rumble sounded through his body. He heard a soft chuckle.

"Was that you purring, or are you trying to tell me the hot dogs are ready?" Lulled by her voice and soothing caresses, he sighed, relaxing into the rug. Giggling softly, Hermione fixed a hot dog for herself before waving one under Bast's nose.

"I guess this means you're not hungry then." she teased and went to draw the food away. Large teeth suddenly encircled her wrist, not biting down, but not letting her move, either. Her eyes widened slightly. "Then again..." She held still as he delicately took the hot dog from her hand and consumed it in one bite.

Harry instinctively knew he'd startled her, and sought to make it up to her by leaning in to nuzzle her neck. It had nothing to do with him wanting to get closer to her, or take in more of her scent… no, nothing like that…

Hermione couldn't help smiling at the gesture; clearly her intuitive companion had sensed her unease and sought to comfort her. It was more surprise than fright that had caught her off guard, which he mistook for unease. She had gotten so use to treating Bast like an oversized version of Crookshanks that she had forgotten that he was still a large, very formidable predator with the instincts and reflexes to go along with.

He was so insistent, however, that she relaxed once more at his urging and returned to absently stroking his head. "You are such an oversized kitten," she chuckled softly. "It's easy to forget that you could be a match for Professor Lupin as a werewolf."

They finished their meal and settled back on the rub for a bit more R&R when suddenly, a regale, tawny brown owl swooped in from the kitchen. Hooting loudly as it spotted her, it hovered for a moment, glaring suspiciously at Bast before landing cautiously on Hermione's shoulder and remaining still long enough for her to untie the letter from it's leg.

Before she could offer it any refreshments, the owl was off again with an insulting hoot aimed at the large black cat lazily licking it's lips as it moved into a crouch.

"Bast! No teasing the owls!" Hermione scolded without looking up. His tail lashing, Bast growled in annoyance to himself and settled back down. How does she do that? Harry wondered, but was distracted by Hermione's excited squeal. "Twelve O.W.Ls!

"I had hoped, of course, but I thought for sure that I had failed that last question in Transfiguration..." Harry yawned and tuned her out. So the O.W.L. results were out. He wondered what he had gotten, but determinedly put the thought out of his mind, as there was no way he could find out until this assignment was over.

Since receiving her O.W.L. scores and book list, as well as her prefect's badge, Hermione had been adament about going school shopping in Diagon Alley.

Of course, they couldn't go that very day or the day after due to the heavy rain, so naturally they would go today.

Bast wasn't entirely sure he wanted to go, knowing especially that he wouldn't be able to be 'himself' while there. As odd as it may seem, he wanted to go with her as the Harry she knew him to be, and not just a larger version of a bloody housecat. He wanted to take her out for ice cream, maybe even buy her something nice, or hold her hand while walking down the street together as they laughed and talked along the way.

He couldn't quite explain the feeling, though he knew it was much like the ones he'd been having since two days ago, possibly longer.

Also, he was feeling uneasy about Hermione being out in the wizarding public.

Truthfully, they hadn't really been out of the house most of the summer except for the time at the Burrow and Hermione's frequent trips to the library, during which times he was suspicious as to why those targeting her did not try an attack; it was almost perfect timing for it.

Today would be the first time either of them would be amongst their own kind, and instead of feeling elated about it, he was almost to the point of fearing for her safety. Granted, any Death Eater would have to be pretty stupid to try an attack in the middle of Diagon Alley when there was such a high risk of Aurors appearing on the spot, but still… He couldn't very well protest the trip, or postpone it, though. Hermione was ecstatic about going, and he wasn't about to deny her something that obviously made her so happy; that is, the prospect of buying new books.

Exhaling heavily, Harry made his way into Mione's room to watch her pick out something to wear for the day.

Meanwhile, Hermione, who was oblivious to the presence of her protector, stood in only her underwear in front of her closet, trying to figure out what she was going to wear to Diagon Alley.

It was a beautiful, sunny day out, and she thought perhaps to wear something appropriate for the temperature, but what? There was always her favorite of skirts-- she had quite an assortment, but did she really want to wear that? And what about shirts? Would she rather wear pink, or perhaps a powdered-blue? Then there were the shoes to pick out as well.

Argh!

When did she start becoming such a bloody... girl?!

It never mattered to her before what she wore when school shopping. After all, the whole purpose was to buy school things. And yet, here she was going out of her mind trying to figure out what would be the best outfit for such an occasion.

She'd spent way too much time around Lavender and Parvati…

Finally, deciding against the girly stuff altogether, she chose something of a more boyish, yet extremely cute look. She would wear her black graphic T with the words "I Need Supervision" on the chest, followed by her pale-green cargo khakis, her "Thundercat" wrist band, and finish off the ensemble with a pair of all black, white-striped shell-toe Adidas.

Yes, that would be perfect.

As she pulled on said clothes, she wasn't really aware of Bast's presence until she turned and saw him laying on the rug next to her bed. She was startled for a moment, but gave a great sigh of relief when she noticed his gaze was elsewhere. She hadn't really known it at the time, but this gave her the unpredicted opportunity to study her most recent companion.

At this precise moment, he did not have the look of an animal, magical or otherwise. He looked as if he were staring off into space, deep in contemplation about something or other. There was something entirely too human about it, and it made her rethink her earlier dismissal of the idea that this 'animal' might well be a wizard in animagus form. She did, however, continue to dismiss the idea that he might be an enemy. Usually, she wasn't one to trust something as fickle as emotion, but her instincts were surely trustworthy enough in telling her that there was nothing suspicious or evil about this... extremely intelligent creature.

"Hermione, get down here! You're going to make me late for work if you don't hurry up!" yelled her mother from down stairs, effectively scattering her thought process to the four winds.

"Coming, Mum! Come on, love, it's time you got your first taste of Diagon Alley," she said to Bast, attaching a leash to his collar. As they made their way downstairs, she noticed with great amusement that he was eyeing the leash with no small amount of distaste.

"I'm sorry, sweetie, but you have to wear it. I know you're a good boy, but it's just incase someone says something."

He grumbled, but complied readily when he felt her begin to scratch behind his ears. It really wasn't fair how she could just persuade him like that…

The heavenly caresses stopped, though, when her mum opened the back door of her Envoy for him to hop in. The inside was pretty spacious, or at least, it was big enough to hold all of him comfortably.

He heard Hermione close the door, and he watched as she got in the front seat and turned around to wink at him.

The drive to the Muggle entrance of the Leaky Cauldron was uneventful. Hermione kissed her mum good-bye and jumped out of the vehicle. She checked to make sure no one was watching before letting Bast out at well and ushering him inside.

She waved hello to Tom, who greeted her warmly, politely not addressing the rather large issue of the cat that followed behind on a leash. Out back, Hermione eagerly tapped her wand against the brick wall the required amount of times, and almost gave a delighted squeal when the bricks began rolling away. There revealed was Diagon Alley in all it's glory, bustling merrily with quite the mass of Britain's wizarding public.

With a swell of enthusiasm, Hermione led her charge into the streets and over to Gringotts to retrieve her money for the shopping venture. The little goblins at first had a problem with Bast's being there, but Hermione quickly assured them that he would be of no trouble. They were in and out of there as quickly as possible, though, so there was no cause for concern.

Once their business was done, Hermione headed--not-so surprisingly-- straight for Flourish and Blotts.

She practically floated into her favorite store, starring star-struck at wall upon wall of new to ancient tomes, all there for the reading. The adoration in her eyes was something akin to Ron's love for the Cannons.

Harry grinned inwardly. He'd never known anyone to be so stir-crazy about books. Hermione was no nerd, of course; she was much to gorgeous for that. Yet, even she admitted to her status as a major bookworm, and proudly-so at that.

Even so, Harry watched her with none-too mild a fondness, watched as she explored the shelves of books with vigor, yet handled them with the care of a mother's touch.

Just then, Harry's deeper senses distracted him from her, and he slowly stepped in front of her, his stance protective, possessive even, as he growled low and threateningly.

Looking up from her book to see what all the commotion was about, Hermione caught sight of the one person she had hoped to avoid seeing today… or forever if possible. Chocolate-brown eyes rolled to the heavens, asking for strength as the one and only Draco Malfoy came onto the scene.

"Well, well, look who it is. Seems as though the Mudblood has finally wised up and gotten herself some protection. Lord knows you need it," Malfoy drawled in his usual condescending way.

Bast's growl became considerably louder, and he bared his teeth in a snarl. If one looked closely, it could be noticed that he was seriously restraining himself from sinking his claws into that sodding snake's smug face.

"Now, Bast, play nice. We mustn't get too close to the filth, might be overtaken by the fungus growing on it," Hermione retorted coolly, her face blank of expression except for a small, humorless smile.

Harry had to hand it to her; she was really putting up a great front, better than normal. He could tell she was even enjoying getting under Malfoy's skin a little, but he could practically smell her uneasiness and discomfort of the situation, even if she made it seem as though she was unruffled.

"I'm not the filth here, Granger," Draco replied scathingly, his hand slipping into his robes threateningly.

"Oh please, Malfoy, get over yourself. I would think since we're doomed to forever encounter each other through out our entire Hogwarts careers, the least you could do is think up some new material."

"Why you…" his anger took the words from his mouth, and he, instead, pulled his wand fully from his robes; he was going to let it do the talking for him.

However, before he could even utter a syllable, he felt the white-hot pain of knives sinking into his ankle. Those knives attached and pulled hard, effectively yanking him off his feet. He winced in pain upon impact with the cold, hard-wood floor. A girlish yelp escaped his lips when his assent from the floor was impeded by something very large.

He had a sneaking suspicion what it was…

Cracking one eye open a fraction, the first thing he saw was a set of extremely intimidating, razor-sharp teeth, followed by merciless green eyes looking scornfully down at him over a dark muzzle.

Needless to say, Draco's heart had all but stopped, and now both his eyes were popping out of the sockets, wide with fear.

"Bast!" Hermione scolded, trying her best to look stern. Struggling to keep the laughter from bubbling over, she tugged on his leash--not very forcibly though, Harry noted. "I know Malfoy is an evil git with ferrety tendencies but really, love, there's no reason to soil your teeth on him. Besides, there's definitely a reason for that pinched expression that dominates features constantly, and I can only imagine it must be from having to smell himself all the time." She stepped over Malfoy's prone form, ignoring his pitiful cries for help, and tugged lightly on Bast's leash once again. "Come on, sweetheart--I need to pay for my books and then we can get out of here. Maybe I'll even buy you an ice cream to rid you of what must be an awful taste in your mouth."

Still growling under his breath, he too stepped over the Slytherin, being sure to plant one large paw squarely in his chest before prowling in his mistress's wake.

A large bag of school books in hand, they weren't far down the street when Harry's senses suddenly went on full panic alert. He began looking around frantically, trying for all he was worth to find the source of this disturbance. His aura crackled with the sheer intensity of his urgency, his instincts screaming that Hermione's life was definitely in danger.

He heard the crowd begin to murmur, and some folks slipped away as quickly as possible into the nearby shops, almost emptying in the streets. There were five figures left standing in the middle of the street. Harry and Hermione were the first two. The other three?

They were all completely dressed in black, their wands out and pointing directly at Hermione…

TBC