Back at the Castle, the fire in the Gryffindor Common Room was burning brightly.
But those dancing flames could not dispel the bone-chilling cold the three had brought back from Hogsmeade.
After Harry and Ron finished recounting their report to Dumbledore in the Headmaster's Office to Hermione, they remained indignant.
"Dumbledore is still the same as ever!" Harry paced irritably across the red carpet in front of the fireplace, leaving footprints in his wake.
"He always trusts Snape! And now he wants us to believe Malfoy is just a spoiled child who wouldn't really..."
"He's just biased towards Slytherin!" Ron's face turned beet red as he waved his arms excitedly. "I think he's a Death Eater too! If this keeps up, he'll be bringing Death Eaters into the Castle himself!"
Listening to her two friends' thoughtless, explosive remarks, Hermione rubbed her temples, which were throbbing from high mental tension.
She sat gracefully in a soft armchair, while Lia, like a boneless cat, obediently rested her head on her lap.
Hermione's fingers idly twirled Lia's silvery-white hair, while her other hand occasionally used a snack to tease Lia's head, watching her stick out her pink tongue to reach for it, always falling just a bit short.
She didn't join the discussion, instead teasing Lia for quite a while until a hint of annoyance appeared in those sky-blue eyes.
Hermione knew that if she kept playing, Lia would stop cooperating; this was experience gained from having her hand bitten several times.
Satisfied, she stuffed the snack into her mouth, ending this domestic-like activity.
Only after finishing all this did she turn her gaze to the parchment between the two boys.
"You're right, Harry," Hermione finally spoke.
She pulled out her wand and tapped the parchment lightly.
"I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."
Complex ink lines spread rapidly like a spiderweb, and a living Hogwarts Castle appeared on the paper.
It was the Marauder's Map.
"We have to keep an eye on him," Harry said, his attention immediately diverted as he pointed to the small moving ink dot on the map. "Draco Malfoy, he's in the Slytherin Common Room right now."
"We have to take turns," Ron responded immediately, rubbing his hands together. "Twenty-four hours a day, we can't let him out of our sight!"
Hermione watched her two friends' indignant expressions without saying a word.
Her fingers lightly tapped the arm of the chair as her gaze moved slowly across the map, passing over the dense names and corridors, finally stopping at that meaningful blank area on the Seventh Floor.
The Room of Requirement.
What was the point of staring at Malfoy's movements?
Watching him walk into that room, and then what?
Wait outside in vain?
The real key had never been Malfoy himself, but the things inside that room.
She was about to speak and propose her deeper plan when she saw Harry push the map along with a silvery-grey, liquid-like cloak in front of her.
"Hermione, you take this," Harry's voice was exceptionally solemn.
Ron nodded vigorously beside him. He looked at Hermione, then gave a suggestive glance at Lia on her lap, a half-joking, teasing expression on his face.
"Yeah, Hermione," he drawled intentionally, imitating his mother's tone. "We all know you... well, you and your significant other are busy cultivating your relationship.
This surveillance work is boring and taxing, so just leave it to us 'bachelors'!"
He winked and added pointedly, "Or you two can watch together!"
Harry didn't know whether to laugh or cry as he gave him a push, but he didn't refute it either.
Hermione looked up, her clear eyes sweeping over them.
Harry's gaze was one of complete trust and entrustment, while Ron's joke carried a kind of 'we get it' unspoken blessing.
Her cheek twitched imperceptibly, and she shouted in embarrassed anger:
"Ron Weasley!"
Despite this, she reached out and took the Marauder's Map and the invisibility cloak.
Once the map was in her hands, Harry and Ron visibly relaxed.
As long as Hermione took charge, even the biggest trouble would always have a solution.
Even if Hermione couldn't do it, there was still Lia.
They immediately got into character and began discussing a shift schedule.
"I'll take the first half of the night, you take the second."
"Tomorrow's Potion Class is with Snape, so don't you dare fall asleep, or he'll stuff your head into a cauldron."
Lia had no interest in their discussion; her small head was huddled over the map, her sky-blue eyes unblinking.
She extended a slender, pale fingertip and pointed at the name 'Draco Malfoy' from a distance.
"He's very afraid," Lia said softly, her voice carrying a beast-like precision of intuitive judgment.
"His scent has been foul ever since he came back from Hogsmeade."
Harry and Ron's discussion came to an abrupt halt.
They all looked at Lia, their eyes filled with expectation and trust.
Hermione gently stroked Lia's smooth long hair and asked in a low voice, "So where is he now?"
Lia closed her eyes, her small, delicate nostrils twitching slightly as she sniffed the air for scents only she could catch.
"Still in that snake's den," she replied, her brow furrowing slightly. "Walking in circles, over and over, like a rat in a cage that can't find the exit."
"His heart is beating very fast, very, very fast... thump, thump, thump... it's so noisy."
This description was much more vivid—and much more terrifying—than a cold ink dot on the Marauder's Map.
It made Harry and Ron clearly perceive that Draco Malfoy wasn't just a simple symbol to be wary of, but a living person being gnawed at by fear and madness.
Hermione's gaze fell back to the blank space on the Seventh Floor of the map.
Monitoring was only the first step.
She looked up and said to Harry and Ron, "You can watch him. But remember, at no time should you act alone, especially do not go to that corridor on the Seventh Floor."
"Why? If he goes in..." Harry asked eagerly.
"Then let him go in," Hermione's voice became very serious. "Your task is only to 'watch' and 'record', not to 'do'. Do you understand? They are really, really dangerous."
Harry and Ron exchanged a glance; from Hermione's tone, they felt a web they didn't understand was quietly taking shape.
They finally nodded.
"We understand."
The prolonged high tension and information processing caused a wave of weariness to wash over Lia.
Her head nodded off bit by bit, and finally, she simply gave up on thinking.
While Harry and Ron were still digesting Hermione's instructions, Lia shifted her body and found a more comfortable position.
In front of the two boys, she unhesitatingly lay across Hermione's lap, even rubbing her cheek against Hermione's lower abdomen, letting out a satisfied, soft nasal sound.
A soft white light flashed.
In the next second, the graceful teenage girl disappeared.
A pure white, fluffy cat was now curled up lazily on Hermione's lap, stretching gracefully and letting out a satisfied yawn.
The hardness on Hermione's face instantly melted, her expression becoming incredibly soft.
She set down the map; the commander who had just been strategizing and issuing orders was but an illusion.
Her fingers sank into the soft, smooth white fur, rhythmically and gently grooming from the neck to the base of the tail.
The firelight from the fireplace danced, reflecting on her jade-white profile, gilding her with a warm, honey-colored halo.
That focused and cherished expression made the air in the entire common room become thick and sweet.
Harry and Ron were completely stunned.
They had just been discussing Death Eaters and death.
In the blink of an eye, the scene had suddenly transformed into a peaceful, classical oil painting of someone petting a cat.
This intense sense of disconnect caused their brains to stall for a moment, their mouths slightly agape, not knowing what to say.
They should go back to their dormitory right now, immediately!
Instead of standing here like two fools, being force-fed dog food they didn't want to eat at all!
The crackling of the burning wood in the fireplace became the only sound in the common room at that moment.
Hermione completely ignored her two friends' dazed and envious, jealous, and hateful gazes.
She carefully scooped the cat ball from her lap into her arms.
She stood up, lowered her head to press a light kiss on the white cat's fluffy forehead, and then looked up at the stunned pair, leaving behind a light remark:
"I'm taking her back to rest now. Once you've discussed it, give me the shift schedule."
Her voice, along with that long white tail swaying happily in the air, vanished into the corner of the stairs leading to the Girls Dormitory.
"..."
"..."
Harry and Ron silently exchanged a look.
Ron's Adam's apple bobbed up and down; he felt a bit of a sour twinge in his teeth.
He gave an exaggerated shudder, shaking off a layer of goosebumps.
He grabbed Harry's arm, his movement so large it was as if he were fleeing a disaster scene.
"Let's go, Harry!" he lowered his voice, his tone filled with indescribable grief and indignation. "We can't stay in this place!"
Harry was pulled into a stumble and asked blankly, "What's wrong?"
"Didn't you smell that?" Ron had a look of deep distress as he sniffed hard, as if he really could smell something.
"The air is sickeningly sweet!"
With that, he gave Harry no chance to react, pulling him along in a near "panic-stricken flight" toward the stairs to the Boys' Dormitory.
They needed to use Quidditch tactical discussions to purify their brains, which had been contaminated by 'dog food'.
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