Chapter 3: Black Cat

The inquisitive and expectant look in Hermione's eyes caught Everett off his guard as she peered up into his face.

"Is something wrong?"

"No—I…I feel like I've met you somewhere before," was all she had to say, quickly backing off and pulling away from Everett. This gave him the opportunity to size up the woman in front of him.

Hermione had blossomed. The once bushy hair was now a perfect wave of chocolaty chestnut and light brown all mixed together, blending into a color so enticing that Everett could not tear his eyes away. Lips of a rosy hue highlighted the color in her cheeks, and her brown eyes were brought out by long dark lashes. Not to mention she had filled out incredibly well.

The whole picture was so lovely that Everett was speechless. He stood dumbfounded at the beauty in front of him. Luckily Hermione had turned her back, giving him the chance to regain composure before she addressed him.

"Why did you come here?" she asked, still with her back to him.

"To um… er…" He tried to remember. "…to get to know you. Be friends." Everett answered awkwardly.

"Oh…well… I'm tired. I have a class starting in 5 minutes." And with that Hermione picked up a book and left Everett to find the door by himself. He paused, but thought twice about looking back at her. If he had, he would have caught her doing the same.

Why, why did Hermione have to be so…so withdrawn? And so beautiful! I feel like such a jerk! …but I can't let her let on to me. Be more careful, idiot.

Everett was in his flat in the castle. McGonagall had fulfilled his one request fantastically, and the place in which Everett now sat was in prime condition and fully equipped with living room and bedroom. Huge double windows greeted the decoratively dressed living space.

I need to find out what she enjoys now, then maybe I can help her by trying to relate…Books, obviously. But what else? Anything else?...tonight would be best…But I'll have to be careful—really careful. Can't have McGonagall finding out.

Still thinking about when he should explore his idea, Everett drifted off to a fitful nap…

Dear Hermione,

I really appreciate all you've done for me these past…"No..." Malfoy crumpled up yet another beginning to his letter and threw it in the trashcan. He glanced at the picture of the Heads of Houses from 6th year. He was glaring at everyone, but Hermione in particular. Why did I hate her so much then? I don't understand—she's such a wonderful person. Malfoy sighed and picked up his quill again.

Dear Hermione,

I feel that we've gotten to know each other really well over the past few years as you've helped me relearn magic. I was wondering if you would like to join me at the Three Broomsticks next weekend for a date.

"No… too straightforward." He pushed up his glasses and laughed timidly at how stupid he was.

Dear Hermione,

You have really helped me become a better person from what I've heard about myself these past few years. You are a magnificent witch and I would be honored to be called your friend. Would you like to accompany me to supervise the next Hogsmeade visit?

Sincerely,
Draco Malfoy

"Well, that's better than anything else I've written so—Merlin's Beard!" As Malfoy vainly struggled to get the "giant" spider crawling up his arm off of him, without touching it mind you, Hermione came into his office.

"Who are you talking to?"

"No…nobody." Malfoy frantically crumpled up his letter and tossed it behind his desk, all the while his eyes never once leaving the black spot now crawling up his shoulder. "Help me…" He whimpered. She sighed.

"Just try to be braver next time, okay? I believe in you, Draco. You can overcome your fear."

Malfoy smiled shyly at Hermione's compliment. She placed the spider outside on the windowsill and left. Malfoy delicately picked up the crumpled letter and smoothed it out. Next time, he thought as he stared at it. Next time I see her… I'll do it."I will do it." "Do what?" Kip Flaggan sat down in the chair opposite Malfoy's desk. He hadn't heard the young Slytherin come in. "Um…do…do my next lesson plan. Yeah." Malfoy cursed his lax lying skills as he once again crumpled up the letter and tossed it under his desk (using many terrifying words such as 'blimey,' 'hogsbottom,' and 'flobberworm'). Needless to say, Kip was not convinced. "But you had conviction in your voice. Is it so hard to write a lesson plan?" Kip watched his professor with a quizzical expectancy.

i You're supposed to be a first year /i . "Yes, it is. You have no idea. Please run along to your next class."

"My next class was cancelled. If you ask me…"

"I didn't." "…that Professor Skunk guy has some serious secrets." Kip hadn't lost a beat. "I mean, who in bloody hell—""Professor… Skunk?"

"Professor Landon…whatever. Anyway, who in bloody hell doesn't care if his things get blown up? He practically begged me to do it. I mean, I would have, of course, but McGonagall made me go to her office. Where do you think he got that silver streak in his hair anyway? It's almost like he tries to hide it…And those scars are so ugly! Why not get a skin job done? It's not like it's impossible. I mean, we're wizards, duh!"

Malfoy was tongue-tied. "Kip…please go to your next class." He stared openly and pushed up his glasses, apalled.

"I told you Professor, it's cancelled."

"Then go…do... something." Set off a dungbomb for all I care, just leave!

Kip finally left with an exaggerated sigh, leaving Malfoy to retrieve his letter and uncrumple it yet again. I'll have to rewrite it. But next time…next time I will give it to her. /i Malfoy glanced around him, paranoid, just to make sure.

"I will do it," he whispered.

Hideous snake-eyes glared at those in the clearing. Lord Voldemort quickly paced among his Death Eaters, stopping in front of a shivering Harry.

'Give that, …to me,' came his raspy voice in a vain effort to maintain calm.'Never.' Harry gripped his wand with white knuckles.


'Then we shall play, boy—scobrium!'Then blindness. Everett fell off his sofa reaching for his wand in a frenzied sweat, the flashing light from his dream still reeling in his head. Bloody hell, not again. Everett was now sitting up the floor, reaching for a clock on a coffee table. I don't even drink coffee, the blasted stuff. Neon numbers burned into his eyes. It was 9:34 and pitch black inside the castle. Hermione was probably making her way through the castle halls to her flat by now.Now's a better time than any. At least I'll be rested. Everett slowly began to make his way towards the door.

Hermione was in her bedroom, on her bed, with a book, alone. Her typical evening. She rubbed the back of her neck and tried to relax.

Hearing a subtle scratching at her door, Hermione turned yet anothe page of her book. Wait... scratching? She left the warmth of her comforter to examine the curiosity. Not many people paid her visits nowadays. Maybe I'm just too unfriendly… or ugly… or cursed—I mean, look at my past!..

The soft—it was definitely scratching—noises continued quietly as Hermione padded across the floor. Opening the door, she found a welcome surprise looking up at her, the cat seeming to yearn for her attention. "Hey there sweetie," Hermione cooed. "Would you like to come in?" As if on cue, the unknown castle inhabitant made it's way into the room, jumping onto Hermione's bed and curling up on her pillow. It was then Hermione noticed that the black cat's fur was slightly discolored and rather patchy. No matter. Since Crookshanks had died, having a furry companion to spoil again was a delight for Hermione. She closed the door and went to retrieve some of her old cat's treats and toys. Please don't leave…Hermione huried back to her bedroom to find the cat—was that… reading? It definitely appeared that way. Hermione had been exploring The History of Muggle Scuba Diving: Undersea Adventure!, and it was now being scrutinized by her new friend, the cat's paw moving back and forth across the page.How very…interesting. Hermione pondered how in the world the cat had learned to read, but dismissed the thought when the paw stopped moving. The cat had realized it was being watched. The two stared at each other for a moment until Hermione spoke. "Here, I brought you some biscuits. They might be stale but I'm sure they're still delicious." Reaching out a treat with her hand, Hermione was startled when the cat suddenly bolted up to her bookcase and crouched behind a picture.Distracted for a moment, Hermione paused on the moving image. Harry, Ron, and herself were laughing mercilessly about…about how I accidentally turned myself into a cat second year...oh that was so embarrassing! But how I miss those times…we were together at least. Tears glistened at Hermione's eyes, but she wiped them away before they could tumble down her cheeks, yet again.The cat had noticed. It was peering out at Hermione from behind the picture frame with wide eyes, slowly tiptoeing out. Hermione imploringly held open her arms, and the cat jumped into them lightly, allowing itself to be wrapped up in her embrace. Hermione sat down on the bed and began to read out loud. "'Scuba diving has been a Muggle sport for over one hundred years'…wow, that's not very long…'and was originally conceived by the Americans'…" A slight pause, then, "...figures…" Hermione's commentary continued for the next hour, two hours, three hours, all the while her furry friend purring soundly and absorbing every word. The dim lights and time of day finally began to register with Hermione, and she peacefully fell asleep. The healing process had begun. Meanwhile, the cat slowly slipped away.

Anyone present in the hallway outside Hermione's room would have witnessed a most shocking transfiguration.

But no one was there.

That Professor Everett Landon was an animagnus remained a secret.

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