How many times had it been now that she'd shared a bed with Hermione?
Kate felt she'd lost count. Half of the memories since she'd crossed over involved Hermione in some way, and she couldn't be bothered to keep track anymore.
But those earlier times, wasn't she the one who'd been more nervous? So why was it suddenly Hermione who was so tense this time?
Even though they were under the same covers — and she could clearly tell the warmth beneath them was well above what was comfortable for a human body — Hermione beside her was still trembling faintly.
It made no sense. Was the air conditioning set too low?
"Want me to adjust the temperature?" By the glow of the little nightlight beside the bed, she sat up to reach for the remote.
Hermione hurriedly sat up too. "N-no, it's fine!"
In the dim light, a good part of her face was hidden behind her fluffy hair, so that Kate couldn't even make out her eyes very clearly.
She laid a hand on the back of Hermione's, and the heat of it almost made her think Hermione had a fever.
"Are you really all right?"
Still not quite reassured, she pressed her hand to Hermione's forehead — warm, but nothing worrying.
Kate looked at her, thoroughly puzzled, and it took a while before she realized what the problem was.
Before, Hermione hadn't known her orientation, so she could sleep beside her without a second thought. But now that she knew Kate liked girls, she was probably fretting over exactly that sort of thing.
"How about…" She chose her words carefully. "We each sleep under our own quilt? That way no one kicks off the covers and catches a chill."
She'd only meant to test the waters — she hadn't actually intended it — but no sooner had the words left her mouth than Hermione agreed almost at once, even hopping out of bed to fetch a fresh quilt from the wardrobe.
Kate sat alone on the bed, blinking a few times.
So it was true — with things like this, not knowing was fine, but once you knew, even the closest of friends would feel awkward.
She said nothing, watching quietly as Hermione brought over the new quilt and spread it out, then lay down alongside her.
"Phew! Good night, Kate!" With the quilts separated, Hermione was visibly relieved, her voice noticeably brighter.
Kate forced a small smile, then remembered Hermione probably couldn't see her expression anyway, so she let it fade, turned to face the wall, and said, "Good night."
The room went quiet all at once, still but for the rise and fall of two sets of breathing.
Hermione lay staring at the ceiling, eyes open, hearing not only Kate's breathing but the steady pounding of her own heart.
Too fast.
Not her heartbeat — the pace at which the two of them were sharing a bed.
Before, it had been fine. She hadn't known Kate liked girls, and she herself had been oblivious, treating it as nothing more than two close friends bunking together.
But now it was different.
Kate was sleeping right beside her, close enough to touch.
If she hadn't been the one to suggest separate quilts, she probably wouldn't have slept a wink tonight, her heart overloaded.
Though even now she was too keyed up to sleep…
But at least they weren't pressed together, and that made all the difference!
Unable to resist, she turned her head to look at the girl beside her on the pillow, and seeing that Kate had kept her back to her the whole time, she felt a small pang of regret.
But soon she gathered herself, turning bit by bit to face Kate, then quietly reaching out, her fingertips lightly brushing that hair, silver-white as moonlight.
Hm?
By the faint moonlight from the window, Hermione noticed for the first time that a streak of fiery red was woven through Kate's silver hair.
She'd never noticed it before — had Kate been hiding it on purpose?
Just like the other side of Kate she'd only discovered today.
Fingertips absently kneading the soft ends of her hair, something stirred in Hermione, and she leaned in bit by bit to leave a gentle kiss on those strands.
Early the next morning, Kate — who always woke by her body clock — stirred right on time at half past six. She was about to get up when she realized something was off.
When had Hermione crawled under her covers?!
And her arm was draped over Kate's waist!
Why was she curled up asleep in Hermione's arms? This was definitely not how they'd fallen asleep last night!
Her whole worldview blown apart by the shock, Kate hastily nudged Hermione a little farther away, then gently lifted the arm looped around her waist off of her.
Tsk — what a death grip. No wonder she'd dreamed a cat was sleeping on her belly last night; turned out it really was a little kitten.
Casting a helpless glance at the still-soundly-sleeping Hermione, Kate shook her head with a wry laugh, the faint gloom from before bed last night long since gone.
She got up quickly, changed, and went out to the back garden for her morning workout — training she never skipped a single day.
After a good half hour of exercise, Kate came back inside and took a shower. She was about to wake Hermione to help make breakfast, but the moment she pushed the door open she found her sitting on the bed with a dazed, dopey look, her brown hair a tousled mess — plainly still half asleep.
"Mm… Kate?" Still caught between dream and waking, the little lion cracked her eyes half open and reached out to her in a soft, mushy voice. "Hug~"
Kate raised an eyebrow slightly and glanced at the alarm clock on the nightstand — just past seven thirty, not too late yet.
She walked over to the bed, meaning to let her doze a little longer, but the instant she got close Hermione pulled her in with a single tug.
That familiar arm-around-the-waist pose was exactly the same as the one she'd woken up in that morning.
"If you want to sleep, then sleep a bit longer." Kate tried to pry herself free, but the moment she moved, Hermione only clung tighter.
Not only was her grip strong enough to make Kate wonder whether she was even really asleep, but that little head kept nuzzling against her chest.
It was because Hermione had shot up in height this year by leaps and bounds, growing a little taller by the day; barely a month apart, and the girl already reached the tip of Kate's nose.
So when she sat up she happened to reach right to Kate's chest, which seemed almost reasonable… like hell it did!
Kate's face twitched. It took some real effort before she finally managed to peel off the whimpering, still-half-asleep little lion and ease her back down onto the bed.
By the time all that was done, her shower had gone to waste — she'd worked up a whole new sweat!
Hands on her hips, Kate stared speechlessly at the certain someone curled up asleep on the bed, wiped the sweat from her brow, tucked the quilt back over her, and only then crept carefully out of the room.
By then Mrs. Granger had long since risen and made breakfast for them, and seeing only Kate come down, she made to go up and wake her daughter herself.
"Auntie, I'll go wake her in a bit!" Kate quickly stopped her. "You and Uncle must be rushing off to work — I'll get her up."
Faced with the girl from next door who was growing prettier by the day, Mrs. Granger could only agree, and after a hurried breakfast she left together with her husband.
Kate sat alone at the table before the spread of breakfast, waited a dozen-odd minutes, then unhurriedly went upstairs and knocked on the bedroom door.
Before long, Hermione — finally roused by the knocking — opened the door with a look of comic exasperation and her hair in disarray.
"Morning," Kate said, leaning against the doorway and winking at her. "If you don't eat breakfast soon, it's going to go cold."
Still steeped in morning grumpiness, Hermione said nothing, brushing past her half-lidded straight into the bathroom, where she stayed a dozen-odd minutes before emerging barely awake.
"Oh right — Uncle and Auntie said before they left that they're working overtime today and won't be back for lunch, so we should just go out and grab something to eat."
Kate pointed to a banknote left on the table. "But it's so hot out — I think it'd be better to just cook for ourselves at home."
Mainly, there was no telling when Sirius might turn up, and once that fellow was out, he'd surely be heading straight for his godson.
If their luck was bad, they might run into the great black dog Sirius turned into while they were out, and with Hermione at her side she'd have far too much to worry about — it wouldn't be convenient to act.
Hermione paused mid-bite and lifted her head suspiciously. "But we're already out of food at home, aren't we?"
Uh…
Skeptical, Kate opened the fridge — and sure enough it was utterly bare, nothing inside.
Silence — such was tonight's Cambridge.
It seemed they had no choice but to go out after all.
Scratching her head as if the stress might make her go bald, Kate gave in. "Fine, let's go eat at the mall nearby, then come straight back."
"Mm!" Hermione's eyes lit up, and even her eating sped up considerably.
Kids this age really did love going out to eat.
Breakfast finished, the two of them split the work and tidied up the kitchen and dining room, and by the time they checked the clock it was nearly ten.
"Not being able to use magic is such a pain!" Hermione moaned, half-sprawled on the sofa.
Kate looked a little better off, but only a little.
"Never mind — in a few more years we'll be able to use magic," she consoled her. "How about we watch a bit of TV first, then head out?"
Naturally, Hermione was all for it.
As long as she was with Kate, she'd be happy even sitting and facing a wall.
Today's news carried no report about Sirius Black's escape either, which put Kate's mind considerably more at ease.
The two of them sat a while, then went out to eat at the nearby mall, picking up the ingredients for dinner while they were at it.
In the afternoon the two of them read together, or wrote letters to friends, passing the time in perfect ease.
This quiet, ordinary life went on for two or three days, until one new Thursday, after they spoke with Harry again, they learned that his birthday was coming up.
Harry's birthday was on July 31st — just a day away.
For him it was naturally a day worth celebrating, but to Kate it meant Sirius should soon be laying eyes on his godson.
At Hermione's urging, she got Harry's gift ready, and after sending it off together with Hermione's, she switched on the television.
The news anchor was reading out a report: "…the public is reminded that Black is armed. Anyone who sees Black should contact the police immediately."
On the screen appeared the gaunt, haggard face of a man, his hair filthy and unkempt, yet Kate recognized him at a glance — this was the very man from the films of her past life.
Sirius Black had successfully broken out of prison.
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