Of Wings in the Night

3

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Draco paced up and down the hall. Why the hell isn’t she here? He groaned inwardly. He wasn’t sure if he could groan with this throat; he tried anyway. It came out as half growl, half pitiful whine.

“That was an interesting noise.” Mala stepped towards him.

Embarrassed, he glowered at her. “Where have you been?”

“Don’t look at me like that. You weren’t here yesterday. Besides, I’ve only known you for two days; I’m allowed to be late.”

Draco sighed. The least that could be said of her was that she had a mind of her own.

Mala sat down in front of him. “So, what do you want to talk about?”

Draco, searching desperately for a safe topic, gave it up. “No clue. What do you want to talk about?”

She grinned. “All right, I can see we’re not going anywhere. Let’s just walk.”

He shrugged indifferently. “Sure.” Neither moved for a moment. Then, seeing that Mala was not about to take the initiative, Draco stood up and began to walk aimlessly down a corridor, Mala pattering quietly behind him.

They walked like that for a few hours, moving in tandem, occasionally chatting about trivial things. It should have been boring, Draco thought, but somehow...it wasn’t. As a clock began to strike three in the morning, he turned to Mala regretfully and whispered, “I’d better go. Good night.”

.

“Malfoy, what the hell do you think you’re doing?” Hermione was glaring at the indolent blond boy blocking the passageway who was quite effectively ruining her day.

“Annoying you, Mudblood. It keeps me amused.” She felt like slapping him, and for once she indulged herself, although she knew it would just gratify him. He, however, easily caught her wrist as it flew towards his cheek. “Oh my, is the ickle Muddyblood suffering from PMS?” That smirk on his face seemed to be coolly snickering at Hermione completely independent of its owner.

Maybe she was suffering from PMS, although it hadn’t been a problem before now. At any rate, he had never pissed her off quite so much. Suddenly, Hermione brought her knee up to hit Draco somewhere below his bellybutton. As he doubled over in pain, she whirled away furiously, brown curls flying behind her.

Harry caught up to her a minute later, Ron a little behind. Harry put a friendly arm around her shoulder. “Hermione, what happened with that slimy git?”

With a frustrated sigh, Hermione leaned into Harry. “I don’t know--he usually doesn’t affect me that much.” She gave a half-laugh. “You’d think that after six years I’d be used to it.”

“Oh, Hermione...”

She sighed. “Thanks, Harry. I’ll be fine. It’s just Malfoy. I guess I was under an illusion that he’d be better this year.”

“What, just because he’s pretty much an orphan now? Nah. It’d take more than that to stop the Amazing Bouncing Ferret.”

Ron, catching up, panted, “If you two are quite finished snuggling up to each other, I’d like to remind you that we’re going to be late for Potions.” Hermione gasped and visibly half-jumped.

Harry, on the other hand, grinned. “Ron Weasley, reminding Hermione Granger that she’s going to be late for a class? I never thought I’d see the day.”

Ron scowled. “You know I wouldn’t normally, mate. But it’s Potions and you know bloody well Snape’s going to take points off.”

“He takes points off anyway.”

“Well, we don’t need to give him another reason to. And he’s been nicer since Voldemort was defeated,” Hermione interjected. “Come on.” She grabbed both the boys’ arms and tried to drag them down the hall.

Ron chuckled. “Hermione, that won’t work anymore--we’re bigger than you now.”

Throwing her hands up into the air, Hermione marched off towards Snape’s class, trying to hide a smile. “Hey, wait up!”

The trio slid into their seats seconds before Snape entered. With agility born of long experience, they had their books out and appeared quietly studious as the professor stalked icily into the room. Ron let out a strange cough that sounded suspiciously like ‘slimeball’ but withered under Hermione’s and Snape’s collective glare. “What was that, Mr. Weasley?” asked the professor.

“Nothing, sir,” Ron replied meekly. “Just had a bit of a cough.” As soon as Snape turned his back, Harry’s poker face contorted into silent fits of laughter but Hermione’s disapproving stare remained.

“Behave!” she hissed.

“Talking in class, Miss Granger? Twenty points off Gryffindor.”

Hermione and Ron looked stricken. “Hermione, I’m sorry.”

She smiled noncommittally. “Don’t worry about it, Ron. He would have found some way to take points eventually.”

The only eventful thing that happened in Potions was that Neville Longbottom melted his twentieth cauldron. Of course, Snape had to wave his wand as he stalked over, causing a small glittery shower of confetti to rain down on the quivering Neville, and announce ‘this momentous occasion’ to the entire class while Malfoy and his goons sniggered quietly in the back and Hermione sighed, suddenly exhausted.

Ginny caught her after classes and asked, “Hermione? You don’t look so good.”

Hermione waved her away. “Ginny, I’m fine--I’ve just had a tiring day. I think I’ll skip dinner.”

“Then I’m coming with you.” Hermione made a weak movement of protest, but Ginny was adamant. “Besides,” Ginny reasoned, “we can talk until...bedtime.” Obediently, Hermione followed her best girl friend up to the girls’ dorms and flopped down on her bed, dropping her books on the floor. Ginny looked at her compassionately. “Maybe you should skip the meeting with him tonight.”

“No!” Hermione said, a little louder than she intended. “I mean, no. I always feel rested when I’m in my cat shape. By the way,” she asked slowly, uneasily, “do you mind if I Change?”

Ginny smiled. “Of course not! I was going to ask you if you’d let me see your cat shape, but I thought it might be awkward.” Hermione’s shape blurred and in its place stood a cat. “Oh, Hermione! You’re gorgeous!”

Somehow, Hermione managed to look self-conscious--not an expression that came naturally to her feline face--but retorted, “Don’t I always?”

Sighing happily, Ginny replied, “Oh, you know what I mean. I didn’t know cats could be this pretty! I’m surprised Ranger hasn’t...you know...”

With a snort, Hermione tossed her delicate head. “For one thing, he may be a cat, but he thinks a lot like a human. For another...I’m not in heat.”

Ginny shrugged. “At any rate, it’s almost moonrise--you’d better hurry.”

Hermione padded to the door, but paused as she was about to exit. “Ginny...I didn’t tell Ron or Harry about this because I...well, I thought they might want to be Animagi. And I know I was being incredibly selfish, but I didn’t want that. But I...if you wanted to be one, I wouldn’t mind.”

Ginny looked at her, completely serious. “Thanks, Hermione. I appreciate that, really. I might want to, later, but I’ll need help and you’ve got enough on your plate at present. Now go!” And Hermione disappeared into the night.