crookshanks
Draco woke up, duvet strewn across his bed messily. He opened his eyes, blinking blearily, and dressed himself in his normal winter quidditch attire.
Stretching his arms, he felt his shoulder crack and groaned.
Opening the creaky side door, his eyes burned at the sight of the brightly reflective snow strangling the ground. If he squinted, he could make out the shadowy edges of the forbidden forest – the trees were topped with heavy snow, and he could hear the faint sounds of the branches, which creaked under the pressure.
The winds whistled as they wove around the castle, and Draco shivered.
Suddenly, he saw a flash of orange in the distance – a fox? Traipsing nearer, he realised it was a cat. Maybe part kneazle. It looked familiar, though he wasn’t sure where from. It had a sort of squashed looking face, kind of like a pug.
He knelt close to it, and watched as it tip-toed through the thick snow to carefully approach him. Draco held his palm out, and his breath hitched in the back of his throat as the cat nuzzled his hand. He heard it purr, and chuckled quietly.
“Not too hard to earn your trust, huh.” he smiled.
He was sure he’d seen it before..but where from?
“Who are you?” he asked softly.
The cat-kneazle-thing turned to look at him, amber eyes glowing in the morning sun.
The orange-red of its fur matched the sunrise, and being backlit by the sun, it looked almost angelic. If you could look past the slightly mangled facial features, it really was very pretty.
“You’re beautiful” Draco said, wondering why he was talking to a cat.
The cat swished its lion-like tail, and seemed to preen, purring louder.
Regretfully, Draco stood up,
He whispered “Sorry Cat. I have to go. Don’t want to be late again”, pulled his gloves back on and made to leave
It sat, staring at him for a moment, before beginning to trot along behind him
He sighed.
***
The next morning
Hermione Granger woke up even earlier than normal. She stretched her legs out in front of her, stifling a yawn.
Padding across to the kettle, situated on the coffee table just in front of the main common room fireplace, she made herself a quick mug of hot chocolate.
When it was still steaming, she clambered out through the portrait-hole and began to climb the stairs to the astronomy tower.
No one ever went there in the mornings, which was something she was very glad for.
The atmosphere was peaceful, and the open-sided platform at the top was perfect on warm summer days.
She shivered, and pulled her oversized cardigan around her closer. Hermione cupped the hot chocolate in her hands, taking small sips to warm herself up.
There was just a light dusting of snow now - yesterday’s thick carpet had perished in the afternoon sun, and no more had fallen over night.
She watched as a swallow flitted over the edges of the forest, and saw one of the Great Squid’s tentacles break the surface of the Black Lake.
Then, she noticed Crookshanks. He was stalking what looked like a mouse, though she couldn’t be sure. Scabbers? She shook the sudden thought from her mind, annoyed at herself for accidentally feeding into Ronald’s delusions.
She watched Crooks chase the mouse up and down the grounds for several minutes, when suddenly a cloaked figure emerged into her view.
Tall, but not tall enough to be a professor.
She caught a flash of green as the striped scarf flapped in the wind – Slytherin.
They crouched just above the ground, and held out a gloved hand.
She realised, to her dismay, that it was Malfoy. His shock of lightning blonde hair stuck out like a sore thumb, even from miles away.
Curiousity piqued, she grabbed her satchel, which was in the pocket of her cardigan.
She kept it on her at all times – just in case. It had a powerful extending charm on it, and was where she kept her time-turner; as well as various other useful items.
She dug around a bit, before pulling out her pair of Omnioculars. They were second-hand and worn – she had found them in a charity shop adjacent to Ollivander’s.
Looking through the lenses, she zoomed in on the interaction.
Crookshanks had come straight over to Malfoy, who was – stroking him? She blinked. But when she opened her eyes, it wasn’t just some weird fever dream - Malfoy was stroking her cat.
But why would Crookshanks trust...him?
Kneazles were famously very sceptical – they could see through any facade and took immediate disliking to un-trustworthy characters.
Hermione had laughed about this with Harry, when she had first got Crooks, because of his initial intense hatred for Ron. To be fair though, Crookshanks did seem to hate most people.
Which just made this whole situation so much more confusing.
***
She found Ginny in the Gryffindor common room, stretched out along one of the dark red sofas.
“Wait, let me get this straight... Malfoy was stroking your cat? And what, he didn’t get..I don’t know...mauled?” Ginny asked, disbelief evident.
“No, I know, it’s just what I thought too. But I'm sure it was him, Gin, plus I used my omnioculars. It was him, I know it.”
“And you weren’t on any dodgy medication? Still hungover?”
Hermione stared at her, before giggling. “Hungover? You do know who you’re talking too, don’t you?” she laughed
“Good point” her friend replied, smiling
“Okay, so we’ve ruled out hallucination. And drug abuse, and irresponsible alcohol intake”, Ginny listed on her fingers
“That leaves us with..insanity. Hermione, you might need to get your mind checked” she deadpanned
“Gin, I swear. I saw it! Listen, come with me tomorrow. Are you up early?”
“...What counts as ‘early’? 9?” she asked, fearing the answer
“More like 6” Hermione grinned
“Merlin, ‘Mione, that early? Really?? And you’re sure we can rule out insanity?”
Hermione stood up, laughing as she climbed out through the portrait hole
“Meet me at the top of the astronomy tower tomorrow!” she called
***
The sun had just begun to rise, casting soft hues of orange and pink across the sky. The Astronomy Tower was still and quiet, save for the gentle rustle of leaves in the morning breeze. Hermione Granger stood at the railing, her breath visible in the chilly air as she anxiously checked her watch.
“Hermione! Sorry I’m late!” Ginny exclaimed, rushing up the stairs, her hair tousled and cheeks flushed from the brisk morning air. “Burnt my toast”
Hermione managed a smile, though the weight of the previous day’s events still lingered in her mind.
“Quick, look!” Hermione urged, gesturing toward the grounds below.
They peered over the edge together, scanning the sprawling green landscape. The snow was a distant memory.
Draco Malfoy was sitting cross-legged on the grass, a bright orange shape by his side—Crookshanks, who seemed to be preening himself in the morning light.
“Is that really happening?” Ginny said, a hint of disbelief in her voice. “Why isn’t Crookshanks..well...attacking him?”
Hermione felt a mix of confusion and wariness as she watched Draco toss a small stick. Crookshanks bounded after it with surprising enthusiasm. She crossed her arms, her mind racing. “It’s just… strange.”
Ginny leaned further over the railing, watching intently. “It is strange. I never thought I’d see him with a cat, especially yours.”
As they continued to observe, Draco laughed—a sound that seemed genuine yet foreign. Hermione felt a flutter in her chest. “I just don’t know what to make of it.”
“He’s trying to change, maybe?” Ginny began, “Or maybe he just likes Crookshanks. Cats can have a way of bringing out the softer side in people. Though with Malfoy – hard to tell about the ‘softer side’ idea” she laughed
“Or he’s putting on a show,” Hermione countered, though her tone lacked conviction. “It feels like it should be a façade, but I don’t know why he’d bother.”
“Sometimes, people do things for reasons we can’t see,” Ginny replied, thoughtful. “Maybe he’s just trying to figure things out for himself. It’s not easy, you know?”
Hermione hesitated, weighing Ginny’s words. “It’s just hard for me to trust him after everything. But there’s something… different about the way he’s acting.”
Crookshanks flopped onto his back, inviting Draco to rub his belly. Hermione’s heart skipped a beat as she watched Draco hesitate before complying, a tentative smile spreading across his face.
“Look at that,” Ginny said, her tone brightening. “Maybe Crookshanks really does see something in him.”
“Maybe,” Hermione smiled, softened by Ginny’s perspective. “But I still can’t shake the feeling that it could all be a game to him.”
Ginny sighed, her expression turning serious. “Just keep your guard up, Hermione.”
“I’ll be careful,” Hermione assured her, though the weight of her thoughts stuck.
As the sun continued to rise, bathing the tower in golden light, the girls shared a brief silence. Hermione felt the complexity of the situation settling around them, watching as the world below began to awaken.
***
The Slytherin common room was dimly lit, casting an eerie green glow over the stone walls. Draco, perched near the fire, was feigning interest in his Defense Against the Dark Arts textbook while Theo, Blaise, Daphne, and Pansy sat nearby, discussing Sirius Black
“You know,” Theo started, eyes twinkling, “if Black’s so set on risking Azkaban to chase down Harry Potter, he’s either brave, insane, or really, really lost. I mean, just buy the bloke a map.”
Blaise snickered. “Maybe he wants to ask Potter for directions. You know, ‘Which way to ruin my life faster, please?’”
Pansy rolled her eyes. “I think you’re all missing the point. Why would Black, of all people, waste his time on Hogwarts?”
“Maybe he’s here to get his NEWTs” Theo suggested with a shrug. “Didn’t get them the first time around and took it a bit personally.”
Daphne laughed, nudging Theo. “At least he’d be sorted into Slytherin. We’ve got an exclusive club here.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” Theo said, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “I think he’d fit right in with Gryffindor, reckless bunch of blood-traitors.”
Draco tried to hide his grin, but couldn’t resist joining in. “Sounding a bit too close to home there, Theo. Better be careful or Slytherin will turn to the red side.”
They all chuckled, and the tension lifted. “I’ll tell you this much,” Theo said, leaning back in his chair, a rare glint of seriousness in his eyes. “If being a loyal Death Eater involves taking a trip to Azkaban, count me out. I’ll stick to treachery.”
Blaise snorted. “Treachery? Really?”
Pansy stifled a laugh, but her expression softened as she looked at Theo. “I think we’re all out of the running for ‘Most Loyal Death Eater.’”
Daphne smirked. “We’ll make an awful disappointment to our parents, then.”
Theo waved his hand dismissively. “Oh, they’ll get over it. Besides, if they’re that upset, we can always start our own club. The Death Eaters Disappointments. DED for short. Monthly meetings, themed snacks—Blaise can be Treasurer.”
Blaise scowled in mock-offense, “Why am I the Treasurer?”
“Because you have ‘responsible’ eyebrows,” Theo deadpanned. “And I refuse to manage anyone’s funds.”
Their laughter filled the room, and for a brief moment, they forgot the ominous topic.
After a pause, Draco spoke up. “Still... maybe we shouldn’t just sit here. If we don’t want to end up like our parents, maybe we need to figure out what’s really happening.”
Theo gave him an approving nod. “Agreed. But if we’re going to snoop around, we’re doing it properly - no getting caught”
Daphne rolled her eyes, grinning. “Yeah, because you’re always so stealthy, Theo. Like that time you tried to sneak into the kitchens-”
“Hey!” Theo held up his hands in defense, “I was outnumbered by the house-elves! And they have eyes everywhere.”
“Well, next time we’ll let them lead the stealth operation,” Blaise said, barely containing his laughter.
***
The air in Professor Snape’s classroom was thick with a lingering aroma of crushed asphodel and the ever-present damp chill that seemed to cling to the dungeon walls. Hermione adjusted her quill as Snape glided between tables, his gaze landing on pairs of students who had been randomly assigned to work together for the week.
“Miss Granger,” he intoned, his voice soft but clear, “you will be working with Mr. Malfoy on this project. No complaints, I assume?”
Hermione’s hand twitched involuntarily, but she gave a curt nod, her lips pressed tightly together. Across the aisle, Draco looked equally uncomfortable but said nothing, his face expressionless.
They gathered their books and supplies, setting up on one of the side tables near the edge of the class. Hermione glanced at Draco from the corner of her eye, hoping he wouldn’t notice, but he did. His cold, steely gaze met hers, and he raised an eyebrow as though daring her to say something.
The silence stretched on awkwardly as they arranged their ingredients. Finally, Hermione cleared her throat. “We need to draft an outline for the Amortentia analysis essay. Snape wants a theory on how it could be improved for medicinal purposes.”
Draco rolled his eyes, clearly less than enthused. “An essay on love potions. Excellent,” he muttered. He pulled out a scroll of parchment with a reluctant sigh. “Let’s just get it over with, Granger.”
Hermione kept her tone businesslike. “The assignment is to analyze how we could alter Amortentia to lessen its addictive effects while preserving its potency. I’ve thought about increasing the concentration of calming ingredients like valerian—”
Draco interrupted, tapping his quill against the parchment. “Valerian would alter the effects. It’s too powerful. You’d just end up with a sedative instead of a potion that, you know, makes someone obsess over you.”
Hermione’s brow furrowed. She hadn’t considered that angle, and as much as she hated to admit it, he had a point. She nodded, jotting down a note. “Fine. Then perhaps something that tempers the potion’s intensity without dulling its purpose?”
Draco gave a tight nod, his eyes flickering with reluctant interest. “Exactly. And if you consider something more balanced, like adding traces of sage... it wouldn’t have the sedative effect of valerian, but it could take the edge off the obsession.”
Surprised, Hermione glanced up at him. “That’s... actually a good idea.”
He shrugged, clearly unused to her approval. “Glad you think so.” A hint of a smirk appeared on his lips before he returned to a more neutral expression. “Look, I’m not completely daft at potions, you know.”
For the next several minutes, they worked in strained silence, focusing on the task in front of them.
But as they debated over ingredients and sketched potential improvements, Hermione noticed that his defensiveness seemed to wane, replaced by a cautious focus.
She could sense him observing her, though he was careful not to make it obvious.
As they worked on the outline, she felt a strange ease begin to settle between them. Their debates became more animated, their back-and-forth sharper, as they each offered ideas.
“Not that you’d ever admit it,” Draco said with a dry smirk, “but I think you’re enjoying this, Granger.”
She straightened, looking him dead in the eye. “I can enjoy a debate without enjoying your company, Malfoy.”
He gave a low chuckle. “Sure. You’re as easy to read as this scroll, you know.”
Hermione bristled but found herself smiling, despite herself. She glanced down, momentarily flustered, and focused on her notes.
Finally, they reached the last part of the project, where they had to draft a theoretical potion that could counter the effects of Amortentia—a potential antidote.
“Considering how dangerous the potion is, an antidote should counteract its effects quickly,” Hermione suggested. “Perhaps something that encourages clarity or lifts enchantments.”
Draco frowned thoughtfully. “But that kind of potion would need to work against its own magic—a reversal spell might be required, even if it’s added subtly. Maybe something with unicorn hair, since it counters dark charms.”
Hermione paused, intrigued by the idea. Unicorn hair could indeed dispel magical interference. “Unicorn hair… that could work,” she agreed quietly, scribbling down the thought. “Combined with... maybe powdered bezoar?”
Draco’s gaze lingered on her for a moment, surprised by her choice. He nodded slowly, almost approvingly. “That’s smart.”
A moment of silence stretched between them, this time not quite so tense. They each turned back to their notes, and Draco cleared his throat, looking almost embarrassed. “So… that’s it, then. Tomorrow, we’ll work on the potion itself.”
“Right,” Hermione replied, carefully organizing her parchment and quill. As she packed up her things, she noticed Draco hesitating, as though he wanted to say something more. But he stopped himself, his familiar guarded expression sliding back into place.
“See you tomorrow, Granger,” he muttered, turning away.
Hermione watched him leave, her mind spinning. There was more to Draco than she’d thought. As she left the classroom, she couldn’t shake the feeling that this project—and whatever new understanding they’d just reached—might be the start of something neither of them had planned for.
***
Sunlight streamed through the high windows of the library, casting warm pools of light across the long wooden tables where students were studying. Hermione Granger sat at her usual spot, surrounded by stacks of books, but her mind was not on her homework.
Instead, she found herself stealing glances at the Slytherin table, where Draco Malfoy sat with his usual entourage—Theodore Nott, Blaise Zabini, Pansy Parkinson, and Daphne Greengrass.
It was strange, really. For weeks now, Hermione had felt a pull to observe Draco more closely, not just out of curiosity but also from a desire to understand the shift she sensed within him.
Draco was animatedly discussing something with Theo, gesturing with his hands and flashing that trademark smirk. The sunlight caught his platinum hair, making it gleam. Hermione felt a twinge of something she couldn’t quite identify—was it intrigue? Concern? She wasn’t sure.
“Hey, ‘mione!” Ron’s voice broke through her thoughts as he slid into the seat across from her, a look of mild annoyance on his face. “You’re not seriously watching Malfoy, are you?”
Hermione didn’t respond immediately, her gaze still lingering on Draco. Ron followed her line of sight, and his frown deepened. “Why would you waste your time on him?”
“Because he’s not the same as he used to be,” Hermione replied, finally tearing her eyes away from Draco to meet Ron’s incredulous stare. “He’s… different.”
“Different how? He’s still a prat,” Ron said, huffing
“Just watch him for a moment,” Hermione insisted, a note of frustration creeping into her voice. “Something’s changed.”
As if sensing their attention, Draco suddenly turned his head, locking eyes with Hermione from across the room.
For a brief moment, time seemed to stand still. She felt her breath hitch as their gazes met, and a flicker of surprise crossed his face before he quickly masked it with a smirk.
“Real smooth” Ron muttered, a hint of amusement in his tone.
Hermione’s cheeks flushed slightly, and she quickly returned to her notes, pretending to scribble something down.
But she could feel Draco’s gaze lingering on her, the weight of it unsettling.
She risked another glance, only to find him still watching her, a mixture of curiosity and challenge in his expression.
“Something on your mind, Granger?” Draco called out, his voice laced with feigned indifference, but there was an edge of something else—
Hermione’s heart raced. “Studying.” she shot back, just loud enough for him to hear.
“Right,” he replied, leaning back in his chair, his smirk widening. “Seems like a lot of time spent staring at someone else’s work. Still can’t figure out that assignment from Snape?”
“Uh..maybe..” Hermione said, suddenly flustered.
Draco raised an eyebrow.
The tension in the air shifted, a challenge hanging between them that neither of them could quite articulate.
“Come on, Hermione,” Ron said, clearly uncomfortable with the turn of the conversation. “Just ignore him”
But Hermione couldn’t tear her gaze away from Draco, who now seemed more animated than ever, his earlier demeanour momentarily forgotten.