Just Kitten! | A Dramione Fanfic

~ Chapter 4 ~

The rats were horrible.

Dark patches of grey and sooty fur stood matted stiffly, stabbing into different directions horrendously. The stench that wafted from their bodies were repulsive; the pungent smell of garbage and sewage water lingered in her office abhorrently like some noxious gas that wouldn't go away. 

The wretched beasts lurked in the corners of the room, glaring at her with their glowing red eyes that brimmed with menace. Their ghastly cheeks were sullen and bleak, filth staining the tip of their paws and tails.

Hermione wished she could've unsee all the damaging visuals. Unluckily for her, wishes don't always come true.

She closed her eyes as she sunk into the soft cat bed lazily, drinking in the warm sunlight leisurely like fine wine. Ah, how nice it was to become a house cat for a wealthy man. 

It had been at least a week since the rat incident, but it still had traumatized her. She wasn't afraid of the rats (no hard feelings Scabbers,) yet she could still picture the feral animals leaping all over her, coating her with their revolting smell. 

Hermione shivered at the thought.

Hermione's thoughts soon drifted to books. She recalled Malfoy's crammed bookshelves filled with books that she had been itching to read. Her unsatiated cravings for manuscripts had suddenly resurfaced, aching her mind numb. The word 'books' repeated in her head like a mantra. She wanted to read those books badly. 

Before she could steal another glance at Malfoy's bookshelves, she heard a loud spluttering sound blast into the air.

The aroma of salmon and lemon exploded delightfully with a clamorous sizzle, as well as the heavy scent of the piquant pepper. As soon as her nose whiffed the subtle puckering citrus, her stomach began to stir, releasing a resonate growl. She hadn't realize she was famished until now. Hermione knitted her eyebrows with determination racing in her mind. She wasn't craving for more cat food, but for human food. 

The thought of tasting a salty, sharp flavored salmon made her feel more motivated as she pranced towards the kitchen, a flicker of jovial lighting up her face. Her mouth watered as the relishing tang grew stronger. 

Malfoy stood there, sporting a chic hot pink apron, furiously trying to scrape the burnt salmon that clung onto the frying pan stubbornly. 

Hermione stifled a giggle.

Draco— no, Malfoy was abrading the bottom of the pan forcefully, his teeth gritted together in full concentration. The bottom of the spatula made unpleasant gouging sounds against the skillet, but Malfoy persisted, sending burnt chunks of fish flying everywhere. A few splotches of omega fat was still hissing menacingly on the pan, but Malfoy didn't seem to care.

"Merlin's beard," Draco muttered, annoyance swelling up in his throat, "Why did the maids have to be out today?"

Hermione watched with a slight contemptuous look, unimpressed by Draco's lovely work of art.

This is just a waste of money, she thought peevishly as she eyed the muddled stuff that littered the kitchen countertop. Arabian Zaatar, saffron, Matsutake mushrooms, tangible vanilla in the flesh... these were all expensive rations that were becoming useless waste. 

If I had all of these lavishing ingredients, I could whip up a whole grand banquet enough to feed a large amount of people. Presumably the Weasleys, Harry, Ron, and me. Maybe for my soon-to-be wedding.

Hermione proceeded to stare into Draco's suffering, eyeing him warily as he aggressively grated the bottom of the saucepan raw. 

Tap!

Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap!!

Her tanned copper eyes averted towards the window, vexation written all over her face. She was in the middle of enjoying the torture that was placed upon Malfoy, why the heck would there be...

A small gasp escaped from her lips.

An owl the color of dirty ash was hovering right above the kitchen window, her beak tapping feverishly against the immaculate glass. Her amber gold eyes held a chilling gaze that questioned anyone who dares to rob anything that she was delivering. Strapped to her legs was a large scrolled up paper, the words 𝕯𝖆𝖎𝖑𝖞 𝕻𝖗𝖔𝖕𝖍𝖊𝖙  winking at the broad daylight.

My clue! 

Hermione yelped furtively, frantically wailing towards the owl with desperation lingering her eyes. The owl's face was twisted with taunting and disgust as she watched the small ginger kitten bang onto the pitiful glass like there was no tomorrow. 

Draco groaned as he dropped his spatula besides him, shoving the kitchen window open and snatching up the newspaper from the owl. He then stroked the forehead of the vigilant kitty, warmth sparking through her body with every touch. His stormy eyes were dancing with delight as he watched Hermione melt into his hands. How nice they were, filled with gentleness and— 

What are you thinking about Hermione, she fumed as she spun around and hissed at the owl. Draco's not someone— why are you calling him Draco??!!

She composed herself and drew in a deep breath. 

Malfoy, taken aback at her sudden hostility towards the owl, chuckled as he stroked the ends of her cheeks ever so benignly. 

"You sure have an attitude." He chortled as he unfurled the Daily Prophet. As his pearly irides skimmed through the layers of the print, his subtle smile faded. Grey fathomless eyes hardened into granite, the mirth that swayed across his face now gone. Perplexed, Hermione ducked her head against Malfoy's chest, which made her stomach flutter with a stream of tumultuous butterflies. She ignored that and skipped her eyes across the newspaper.

𝔐𝔦𝔫𝔦𝔰𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔬𝔣 𝔐𝔞𝔤𝔦𝔠 ℌ𝔢𝔯𝔪𝔦𝔬𝔫𝔢 𝔍𝔢𝔞𝔫 𝔊𝔯𝔞𝔫𝔤𝔢𝔯... 

Before she could wade deeper through the fancy cursive, Malfoy grasped his wand and stabbed it towards the bounded parchment, a wrathful gaze scrawled all over his paled face. Spite bit his eyes miserably as the Daily Prophet disappeared in a fierce flurry of hot flames. It was like a bolt right out of the blue that struck Hermione hard. 

She let out a feeble muffled cry; this was her sole pointer to her sudden disappearance. Hermione wanted to whack her own face. 

Draco— no, stop calling him Draco, it's Malfoy.

She glanced over at Malfoy. Her hypothesis wasn't always right, but given the case...

Maybe I should go to first name basis— I mean, what if I become a talking cat and he figures that his cat calls him by his surname?! That would be a bit awkward if Crookshanks happened to call me Granger all the time...

Hermione made her decision quickly as Draco yanked his wand at the clutter of spices and dishes. The pans and cutlery scrubbed itself clean while the spices and seasoning flew back into their original spots. She was an indecisive girl, but she had to go along the rules to play the game. Oh how she hated this wager.

Either gamble on my life, or fake my whole existence as Malfoy's blasted kitten. Just great. When is my wedding with Ron going to start?

As Hermione meddled with her thoughts, each retort savager than the other, she hadn't noticed that Draco was starting to gather food in a twine basket; apples, sandwiches, snacks...

Draco reached out an inviting hand towards the confused kitten. 

"Change of plans Hermione," He whispered, all the displeasure flushing out of his husky voice. His smile was saccharine as he flattened the ends of his crisp dress shirt. Hermione swore she could hear one of her heartstrings getting plucked. 

"We're going to have a picnic." 

A/N I'll start updating chapters once a week!