Hermione's eyes snapped open. One of her favorite assets was that she seemed to have a very accurate internal clock, one which woke her up within fifteen minutes of when she wanted to be up without fail. Today she was about ten minutes later than she wanted to be. No wonder, since the tiring and confusing events of yesterday. She showered and changed, then went down to the Great Hall.

Harry and Ron were already there, it appeared a little less than halfway through their breakfast. She slid down into a seat across from them.

"Hello, 'Mione," said Ron, voice slightly muffled by a mouthful of toast.

"We hear Crookshanks caused a nice little ruckus in the common room yesterday," Harry grinned.

Hermione blushed and busied herself with the food. This only served to broaden their grins. Ron continued. "Nearly took out poor Colin Creevey's eye before jumping out of the portrait hole."

"Care to tell us who he killed out there?"

"Actually," Hermione said, "It was Malfoy."

The two young men roared with laughter. "You're joking!" Ron choked. "Where is he? I want to see his scratches! I hope Crookshanks got him good."

"Well, he did," she said hesitantly, "But he doesn't have them any more." They let out groans of disappointment.

"Suppose he got someone to heal him. I wonder who it was? No one in Slytherin is much good at healing, and Malfoy wouldn't go to the hospital wing unless he saw some other advantage to it."

Hermione muttered a word under her breath.

"Say what?" Harry asked, scraping his plate with a fork before reaching for seconds.

Looking down, she said softly, "Me. It was me."

Harry dropped his fork.

"What? Why would you ever want to do such a thing for Malfoy?" Ron looked thunderstruck.

"It was my cat, Ron. So it was my fault he got those scratches. It wasn't really much work to heal them, you know. Besides, he was only j—" she cut off abruptly, cursing her sleep-slowed mind.

"Only what?" Ron demanded. She blushed. Ron and Harry would not be happy if they found out what Malfoy had done, even if it had been a joke.

Harry leaned forward. "Hermione, what happened? What was Malfoy just? Hermione? Why can't you look at us?"

Hermione looked up defiantly. Big mistake. Harry's sharp green eyes were intense behind his glasses, compelling her to tell all.

"It was only a joke…." she repeated, then began to tell of Crookshanks' escape, Malfoy's scratches, her guilt, and his joke. She remembered how terrified she had been, but she had also been tired, which probably had made her miss some indication of his joking. Her voice faltered more than once—they really didn't need to know—but Harry's eyes were always there, concerned but determined. She glossed over how helpless she had felt and played up the severity of Malfoy's scratches. Finishing, she looked at them tentatively. No one spoke. The chatter of the Gryffindors beside them (they were at the end of the table) only served to emphasize the ringing silence of the two she sat across from. It did not last long.

Hearing a strange sound, she looked at Ron. His fist clenched around a broken, misshapen piece of metal that had just been a goblet. Pumpkin juice slopped over on his wrist. His ears were darker than she'd ever seen them. She almost shrank back from the look in his eyes. Finally he spoke. "That—filthy—disgusting—vile—perverted—! Where is he?" He zeroed in on the Slytherin table, murderous eyes searching for Malfoy.

"No! I don't want a fuss! It was only a joke!" Hermione felt ill when she thought what would happen if Harry and Ron attacked Malfoy in the Great Hall. At the least Ron would probably get his prefectdom revoked. "Didn't you hear me? He stopped when he saw I didn't get it."

"He shouldn't have started!" Ron said loudly, then looked around and lowered his voice to a hiss. "If he was joking, why didn't he stop the first time you tried to get away? The second? The third?"

"Hermione," Harry said quietly. Quietly, but his eyes were just as scary as Ron's. "Hermione, he played this joke on you when you were all alone and he knew you didn't have your wand. That is the sickest….How any man, even Malfoy, could joke like that…. I can tell you were more scared than you say you were. Malfoy terrified you, Hermione."

"That was just because I was tired—" she cut off as Ron let out a growl of triumph. Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle had just risen from the Slytherin table and were making their way to the door. Along the way, Malfoy caught Hermione's eye and gave a little wave, smirking. She waved back while locking her legs around Ron's. This shocked him enough that he stopped trying to get up, at least for a second; long enough for Malfoy to saunter out.

"See?" she begged. "He's trying to be friendly, he was kidding…" Ignoring her, Ron started to get up. Harry made as if to follow. "Harry!" It was useless to try to reason with Ron once his temper was up. "You'll get in so much trouble! What if you get expelled? Ron's a prefect, I'll get in trouble too, you'll have to tell the professors why…. Don't risk that for something I don't want to be defended for! Please, Harry!" Harry, who had halted somewhere in the middle of her speech, sighed heavily and seized Ron's arm. Ron kept trying to pull away until Hermione stood up, leaned over, and grasped his hand. When he and Harry at last sat down, Hermione almost collapsed with relief. She kept her hand on Ron to be safe, though.

Harry rubbed at his scar. "How are we supposed to react? Just ignore how close he came to…to forcing…." Furious, he couldn't say it.

"Yes! It—wasn't—serious. I'm fine. How can you attack Malfoy if I'm fine?" She was exasperated nearly to tears. Ron saw the shine of her eyes and sighed.

"'Mione…. What about Crookshanks? He knew about Pettigrew, and now he's going after Malfoy."

"Oh, of course, Ron," said Hermione scathingly, "Malfoy is an Animagus disguising himself as a human. Why didn't I see it before?"

"You know what I mean! I don't trust Malfoy as far as I could throw him, and neither should you!"

"Don't you tell me who to trust, Ron Weasley!"

"Keep it down!" Harry whispered, looking around. Happily, Ginny was engaging all near her in a humorous account of a trick she'd played over the summer on Fred and George, but if Ron and Hermione got as loud as they sometimes did during their rows, then even the staff table would be able to hear.

Hermione took a deep breath, calming herself visibly. "If Malfoy is trying to be friendly, it may well be something he hasn't done a lot of before. He probably has no idea how far is too far. The last thing we should do is discourage Malfoy being nice. Remember how we treated Kreacher, and what happened with him? He was so mean, and yet if everyone had just been a little more patient with him… I don't want to cut Malfoy off if he's trying to broaden his horizons."

"I don't care," said Ron stubbornly. "I don't want Malfoy alone with you. What will he joke about next?" Harry nodded.

Sighing, Hermione acquiesced. They were only concerned about her. "Now," she said, "that that's settled, I think we should get started right away on the homework due Monday. Don't look at me like that. I think we should start with…"

Incident forgotten, she planned out their Saturdays for them.