Draco Malfoy crept quietly from his room, through the Slytherin Common Room (which was nearly deserted due to dinner), and out to that alcove. In his leather clad arms, lay Granger's hellbeast of a cat. Not that the chit was much less of a vituperative termagant. Draco Malfoy settled in to wait. He'd do most anything to avoid the spectacle that would have arisen had girls seen him with a cat, even a large, ugly, shedding orange cat like this.

Draco Malfoy did not do cute. The girls were bad enough - had been for years. If he did cute, he'd have girls throwing themselves at him. Literally. Pansy was "bad" enough, but at least she wasn't serious. Just very, very angry.*

While he waited, he lay odds on how many Gryffindors would appear. Sensible people would bring three or four - too many more than that, and they'd be entirely ineffectual in such close quarters. However, this was Granger, and there was the slim, stupid possibility that she might show up on her own. To the Slytherin dungeons. It was, of course, more probable that she'd show up with Potty or the Red. Or, most probably, both.

Granger was unconscionably loud bumbling her way into the alcove, and it wasn't because she was carrying so many books. Lacking all sense of etiquette, the Mudblood was just... a Gryffindor. Draco Malfoy bit back a comment, as the cat in his arms clawed ineffectually on the double-layered leather long-sleeved gloves and yowled, nearly loud enough to deafen him.

Hermione Granger's face lit up, and for a moment, she only had eyes for her cat, "Oh Crooksie! Where have you been? Come to Mummy!"

Which, naturally, the cat who had failed to respond to any command, ever, now did.

"Astoria was busy." Draco Malfoy said coldly, thinking that if this was last year, he wouldn't have to deal with this harridan - Astoria was good at seeming nice, and so he'd been quite happy to let her handle many of the softer interactions with the other Houses. "Keep your cat out of the dungeons, or I won't be responsible for what happens."

Granger somehow managed to get the cat up on her shoulder, and she put her hands on her hips, snapping back, "Is that a threat, Malfoy? Are you so pathetic that you're threatening a kittycat?"

"No," Draco Malfoy responded, curbing his emotions as usual - settling for a rolling of his eyes, "I hate you, not your cat."

Suddenly Granger was leaning forward, almost as if she was studying his face, "Wait-" her face had actually morphed into a surprised look, "You meant that literally, didn't you? You aren't leading Slytherin anymore, so you can't be held reponsible..."

Draco Malfoy didn't know what to say, and that was a state he rarely found himself in, so he settled for sneering at her, and saying, "Is that all?"

Hermione Granger left in a huff, but so long as that malevolent cat was leaving, Draco Malfoy was willing to call it a good day. It had been stupid brave of her to show her face in the Slytherin dungeons, with the way the world was turning. Nott wouldn't deign to even scheme against a Mudblood, but others weren't as arrogant. Years of bad blood had kept Malfoy from mentioning this, but from the sound of it, Granger had enough smarts to stitch together the situation, if not the innate caution to let the situation guide her actions.

[a/n: Up next, more maundering, and then Lavender Brown - "I am not a dishrag!"

Leave a review!]

*a bit of an explanation for Pansy sitting on Draco's lap the entire summer. She's not normally like that, though she does do possessive well.