In Hermione's mind, cold words like "take over" and "assessment" were instantly and automatically translated into "imprisonment," "dissection," and "live experimentation."
Thus, Hermione naturally took charge of tutoring the "problem student."
In the girls' dormitory, Hermione felt an unprecedented sense of despair. She watched a feather on the table, which did not float up light as air under the tip of Lia's magic wand as expected.
On the contrary, the feather first gently emitted a rainbow-colored halo, then curled up elegantly from the base, transforming into a butterfly that landed lightly on the mouth of the ink bottle.
Lia's magic was full of primal vitality, defying all established rules.
Her will was naturally directed toward "creating life" rather than "changing form." Asking her to turn a piece of dragon liver into a precisely measured Potion was harder than getting Snape to smile at Harry.
"Merlin's medical-grade silicone finger stalls..." Hermione held her forehead, looking at the "butterfly" flying all over the room, feeling a deep sense of powerlessness.
But Hermione Granger never gave up. She took a deep breath, a raging fighting spirit igniting in her eyes.
For the next few days, she practically pinned Lia to a seat in the library.
Fortunately, theory classes were no problem for Lia; that little head's memory was nothing short of terrifying. Hermione practically broke the books down and mashed them up, feeding them to her bit by bit. From the dates of the Goblin Rebellions in History of Magic to the synergy and antagonism of different materials in Potions, Lia had a photographic memory.
In the end, Lia's report card was so bizarre that Professor McGonagall had to double-check it several times: the practical operations for Charms Class, Transfiguration, and Potions were a disastrous "D (Dreadful)," but all the theoretical written exams were a straight "A (Acceptable)" or better. The overall evaluation was a pass for everything.
Professor McGonagall adjusted her glasses, looking at the exhausted but determined Hermione and Lia behind her—who was curiously staring at her quill, wondering if she could turn it into a living thing. A rare curve appeared at the corner of her mouth as she finally wrote in the comments: "It seems that in terms of teaching special students, Miss Granger is more suited to be a teacher than we are."
Hermione held that hard-won report card, feeling as if she'd spent half her life on it, but when she saw Lia standing safely by her side, it was all worth it.
On the return journey of the Hogwarts Express, the smoke of the exams finally cleared.
Inside the compartment, Harry was facing a small, old mirror, talking excitedly in a low voice with Sirius inside about summer plans. Ron was boastfully bragging about the Quidditch World Cup with spit flying everywhere.
Hermione, however, was unusually quiet. She wasn't reading, but just leaning against the window, using her fingertips to extremely gently comb through the Cat-girl's long silver hair on her lap. Sunlight fell on her bushy brown hair, plating it with a layer of warm gold. Her thoughts drifted far away.
Vacation... where should she take Lia to play? A magical market in France? Or a Muggle holiday beach to let her see the ocean? No, the seaside was too crowded; what if Lia's ears and tail were seen by Muggles and caused a commotion... or simply go nowhere and just stay at home? That seemed too unfair to her.
And... she probably wouldn't be able to help herself and would keep her in bed all summer.
The movement of her fingertips paused slightly, and Hermione's cheeks felt a bit hot.
Lia, on her lap, keenly sensed her emotional fluctuations. She instantly transformed from a drowsy cat into human form, squeezing tightly between her and the compartment wall, her warm, soft body pressed close against her.
Lia turned her head, those sky-blue eyes staring fixedly at Hermione, their noses almost touching. She didn't ask anything, but just reached out her arms, hugging Hermione's arm like a koala, and gently rubbed her snowy-white cheek against her side profile.
"As long as Hermione is here, it's best."
That soft, sweet voice carried complete trust and satisfaction, instantly smoothing out all the irritability and planning in Hermione's heart.
Yes, what was she anxious about? Hermione's heart completely softened. To Lia, where they went or what they did never mattered. What mattered was who she was with.
Lia didn't speak again. Her long, fluffy tail, however, began to move restlessly, quietly reaching out like a living scarf, wrapping around Hermione's waist, and finally winding around her gently with an indisputable sense of possession.
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