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The shop was the same as usual in all the elementary respects, but for some reason, Millicent saw there was something different about it. The harsh winter sunlight shone in the lattice pane window, lighting up the jars of sparkling candies. The aroma of gingerbread pervaded the place, and Millicent wished (unreasonably) that she had eaten more at breakfast. It felt like she hadn't eaten anything.
Hermione went straight up to the counter, her eyes wide and awake. "I'll have seven sticks of black licorice," she said promptly, as if reading a grocery list, "A box of chocolate frogs, and a half pound of raspberry cordials."
Millicent appreciated her choices, but refused to buy anything more than a knut's worth of hard licorice candy out of a desire to appear abstinent.
Hermione quirked an eyebrow, but otherwise didn't remark, and soon they were back outside in the cold of winter.
"It is a beautiful day," Hermione mused as they trudged along in the snow. "Where to, now?"
Millicent, at least, had a good answer for this. "Do you like cats?" she asked, finding herself smiling faintly.
Hermione's eyes lit up and widened. She looked alarmed, and slowly she confessed, "I have a kneazle. Cats, in my limited experience, tend to make me sneeze."
Millicent frowned. She could see Hermione was responding to some subtext that Millicent couldn't decipher.
At last she gave up on trying to figure it out. "Does this mean yes or no cats?"
"Let's try and see," Hermione said, adding, "my last experience with a cat was rather unusual."
Millicent nodded, and with a grand gesture she motioned at a grimy looking alleyway.
"There?" Hermione asked, casting a skeptical glance back at Millicent.
"Yeah," Millicent said, and added, "if you're concerned, I'll gladly go ahead of you."
Hermione glanced down the alley again, turned her head to Millicent, and furrowed her brow. "No need," she said, rolling her eyes. Then she offered her arm. "I'm certainly not scared of a few shadows. Not after everything I've seen. We go along together."
Millicent outright blushed, but fortunately the cold had already pinkened her cheeks. "Certainly," she said with her best imitation of a Malfoy's courtly manners, and took Hermione's arm in a manner she hoped was fashionable.
The alley really wasn't that scary once you started down it. There was a fabric shop, with enormous bolts of cloth blocking the windows, and the back door of a cobbler's shop, and other less flashy stores than those that occupied the main plaza of Hogsmeade. These were the practical shops, the places more frequented by locals and teachers than by students.
Unless these were students on a mission, like they were.
They walked past the shop they were looking for before they saw it, unobtrusive and piquant in the morning light. A crowd of pigeons plucked their beaks into the snow out in front, eating the crumbs tossed there from someone's breakfast. A frigid bench sat under the awning, but someone had been sitting on it, for it was wiped clean and dry. Now, a cat was there, looking pensively at the birds, as if choosing who would be its supper.
Hermione hesitantly patted the cat, scratching knowledgeably behind its ears, and it responded with purrs of pleasure. She looked puzzled at this segment of their adventure, but temperate. Millicent was glad the windows were so fogged up with the cold. It meant the surprise was all the better once they opened the stiff, scarce-used door at the front of the shop.
There was no bell or chimes to alert the proprietor of their incoming visitors. But there was a pervasive musty smell to alert the visitors that the real proprietors of the place were, despite appearances, the resident felines. Serving as their human counterpart, an angular, bespectacled man with high cheekbones and a stack of mufflers up to his ears sat in an easy chair directly facing the front door. He looked up, fairly startled, but then this settled back into a glare, and he pulled the comforter up higher onto his lap. The old ginger tabby that was enjoying his company, snuggled between his spindly thigh and the arm of the chair, merely yawned and didn't even open its eyes.
He and Millicent had never exchanged a word, but he recognized her from her previous happy hours she had spent here, and he was unconcerned to see her where he might have reacted with alarm at another student. With a brisk shake of his head, dismissing the girls, he turned the page of his book and sipped at the steaming mug of tea in his hand.
Hermione wasn't paying any attention to him, however. Her eyes were wide and she looked as if she were about to faint.
"How have I never heard of this place?" she murmured bewilderedly.
Millicent immediately clapped a hand over Hermione's mouth. The lips were sweetly wet, and the girl's chin had a little pimple on it that Millicent hadn't noticed until she felt it.
"Sorry," mouthed Millicent, and withdrew her hand. Hermione's eyes were glinting with a mature amusement that made Millicent want to be twenty years older and a thousand books wiser. Trying to keep up her appearance of confidence, she put her finger to her lips in the universal sign for quiet, and Hermione didn't need to be told twice. This was a quiet place, and a secret place, and if it was to remain that way, they'd have to abide by the rules.
A cat began to twine itself around her ankles, and Millicent sighed in contentment. This was one of her favorite places.
Millicent followed Hermione around for a few minutes as the girl was settling herself in for a nice long morning. Hermione seemed overwhelmed by the sheer quantity of volumes that weren't available in the Hogwarts Library. Millicent understood why - the tomes were of diverse quality, some costing thousands of galleons, others cheap Muggle pulp fiction. But all of them were neatly sorted and itemized, and all of them were available for a price.
The door opened behind them, and the girls whipped around to see who it might be. Professor Snape was there, looking oddly relaxed. He glanced around the shop, and made brief eye contact with Millicent. He nodded at her, and she returned the nod. This was the third time they'd encountered each other here, and the first two times, it had reignited her crush to an unquenchable level.
And predictably, this third time, Millicent's heart began to beat in that old, familiar crush rhythm. Alas, she thought. She'd been hoping that her newfound affection for Hermione was going to snap her out of her infatuation with Snape. No such luck.
Millicent cast a glance at Hermione, who had finally settled on a choice of book, and was determinedly skimming the table of contents. She shifted slightly on her feet, back and forth, as she seemed unable to be still in her excitement.
Caught between two interesting situations, Millicent opted to finish enjoying the one most likely to end soonest.
The angular, bespectacled man at the front door stuck his arm out to Snape, offering a book wrapped in brown paper. Snape looked at the receipt on the front, and gave the man some coinage, silently placing it in the man's palm. Then he was gone, his robes billowing behind him as the door closed.
Millicent's eyes went back to Hermione. In the quiet of her lost attention, she hadn't noticed Hermione turn down the book and begin staring curiously at Millicent.
Millicent felt her cheeks flush. There was no cold to hide it, now. "What?" she mouthed saucily, jamming her fingers into the bookcase to draw out a mystery novel in one of her favorite series.
Hermione didn't have any response fit to whisper, but the smirk on her face was a knowing one. It pissed Millicent off.
Shaking her head, Millicent motioned towards the back of the bookstore. Hermione followed, and soon they found themselves a corner with some immensely comfortable armchairs, where they settled down together, next to one another, in front of a roaring (but silent) fire where a calico tabby monopolized the hearth.
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