The next morning, sunlight filtered through the gaps in the curtains, casting dappled spots of light on the floor.
Mrs. Granger had come upstairs to knock seven or eight times, starting with "Girls, breakfast is ready."
By the time she reached a helpless sigh, rustling movements finally came from inside the room.
When Hermione, with a head of bushy brown hair, led a sleepy-eyed Lia—whose tail hung limply—downstairs, Mr. Granger had already finished half of The Times.
"Oh, my sweethearts, you're finally up."
Mrs. Granger pushed warm milk and fried fish toward them while casting meaningful looks back and forth between her daughter and Lia.
"It's good for young people to be energetic, but you must also remember to rest. Breakfast is a must."
She specifically placed the largest piece of boneless deep-sea cod belly onto Lia's plate.
Her gaze was as tender as if she were looking at her own silly daughter.
She had finally brought that impossibly beautiful little daughter-in-law home and was terrified that poor hospitality would make her run away.
Hermione's face instantly turned beet red; she practically buried her face in her cereal, finishing the food on her plate at lightning speed.
Then, pulling Lia—who was still taking tiny bites of her fried fish—she fled back to her room as if escaping.
Leaving behind only a small leftover fish tail and The Grangers, who shared a knowing smile.
The door shut with a thud, and Hermione finally breathed a long sigh of relief. She picked up a comb and began to tidy Lia's long silver hair with a mix of annoyance and affection.
Her fingers ran through the silky strands, and occasionally she couldn't help herself, her hand naughtily pinching the slightly twitching cat ears' fluff, drawing a comfortable purr from Lia.
"Hermione..." Lia's voice was soft, carrying the nasal tone of someone who had just woken up, as she squinted her eyes contentedly.
"Hmm?" Hermione's hand didn't stop, enjoying the incomparable sensation at her fingertips.
"I always feel like... even though Cedric survived, it seems like no one besides us believes Lord Voldemort has returned. Why is that?"
"That's because they want to shut him up, Lia." Hermione put down the comb and sat on the edge of the bed.
"Especially Fudge, that coward and opportunist! He isn't actually afraid of Lord Voldemort; he's afraid that admitting Lord Voldemort's return will shake his power!"
"Admitting Lord Voldemort's return is equivalent to admitting that his past ten-plus years of peaceful governance were a total joke!"
"He would rather paint Harry as a grandstanding lunatic and Dumbledore as a power-hungry old fool!"
"They will use the power of the Ministry of Magic to suppress anyone who speaks the truth."
Hermione's voice trembled slightly with anger. "Dumbledore and Harry will be the first to suffer. This summer probably won't be very peaceful."
Lia obediently rubbed her cheek against Hermione's clenched fist, soothing her with her own body heat. "If Hermione were the Minister, you definitely wouldn't be like him."
"You trust me that much?" Hermione was amused by her, and the fire in her heart dissipated quite a bit.
"Of course!" Lia's answer was firm and decisive.
Summer life, within the warm atmosphere deliberately created by The Grangers, was as tranquil as the sea before a storm.
Hermione spent most of her time previewing fifth-year textbooks, preparing for the upcoming O.W.L.s exams.
Lia, meanwhile, lay on Hermione's bed with a pillow under her chest, pretending to read but actually dozing off.
Hermione also pretended not to see Lia's head nodding off repeatedly.
Occasionally, O.W.L.s would bring letters from Harry and Ron.
Lia could smell distinct scents coming from those pieces of parchment.
In Harry's letters, there was a mix of a musty smell like burning ozone, full of anxiety and anger.
Ron's letters were much stranger; between the lines, they smelled of'secrets' and 'tension,' similar to metallic rust.
This afternoon, the London sky was overcast with dark clouds, and the air was as muggy as a soaked sponge.
Hermione was explaining a complex spell from the guide to advanced transfiguration to Lia when the sky outside darkened without warning.
An extreme chill that could drain all joy and hope, carrying the stench of death and decay, penetrated the walls and glass, sweeping through the entire room!
"—!"
Lia's fur instantly puffed out. She lunged up from the bed, landing on all fours with her back arched high, letting out a threatening hiss from deep in her throat.
Her eyes stared fixedly out the window, her pupils narrowing into two sharp vertical lines!
On the window glass, a layer of cold frost visibly condensed!
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