Another Win-Win!

The movie ended, and the projector displayed a jumble of circular light spots on the screen, so indistinct and unclear that it was difficult to see anything clearly.

Recalling Loren's words, Hermione vaguely realized some of the crux of the problem—about racial conflict, about assimilation and integration—but it was as unclear as a projector image...

But some thoughts remained unwavering, and Hermione silently made up her mind.

Like a lazy kitten, Hermione felt the warmth from the hand above her head, leaned forward slightly, rubbed her head against Loren's stomach, wrapped her arms around his waist, and took a deep breath.

"..."

Perhaps it was a post-traumatic stress disorder from turning into a cat, but Loren always felt that her movements resembled those of someone petting a cat.

As if she had gained some kind of power through this ritual, Hermione perked up a bit, slowly relaxed her muscles, and exhaled the frustration in her chest. The girl's breath wafted through her clothes and landed on the soft flesh of her abdomen, warm and wet.

"Loren ..."

"Um?"

"Can you turn into a cat to comfort me?"

"Don't even think about it!"

On the night of the first Full Moon in 1994, in the clearing at the Edge of the Forbidden Forest at Hogwarts.

Lupin the Werewolf used his sharp claws to pry open the stopper of the Crystal Vial, carefully brought the bottle opening to the tip of his slender wolf mouth, pursed his lips, and put Mandrake Leaf and some saliva into the bottle. With his thumb and forefinger (or rather, his thumb and forefinger), he placed the prepared hair, a teaspoon of dew, and Death's-head Hawkmoth Chrysalis into the Crystal Vial, and then tightened the stopper.

After all this was done, Lupin the Werewolf, Harry, Ron, and Professor McGonagall who were watching all breathed a sigh of relief.

Making Werewolf's body do such delicate work looked rather dangerous, and they were on tenterhooks, afraid that Lupin might accidentally crush the Crystal Vial.

"Alright, now let's find a secluded spot in the forest where no one will find us and hide the Secret Potion," Professor McGonagall said.

Lupin the Werewolf grinned. Unlike the young wizards who had plenty of time to leisurely experiment, he had been eating mostly liquids for the past month in order to play it safe. Now that he was finally free from the constraints of Mandrake Leaf, no one was happier than him.

Nodding to the group, the Werewolf Lupin tensed his leg muscles and headed into the forest, leaping between tree trunks and boulders before disappearing from their sight.

"That looks really cool...and he's so fast. If he transformed in a wizarding duel, even spells wouldn't be able to catch him..." Ron was a little stunned. "I'm starting to want to become Werewolf."

"Don't talk nonsense, Weasley!" Professor McGonagall glared at him sternly. "Werewolf can only transform on Full Moon Night, and they lose their minds and won't avoid spells."

"Oh, I see, Professor McGonagall ..." Ron replied perfunctorily, but muttered under his breath in a voice only he and Harry could hear, "Isn't there Wolfsbane Potion ..."

Harry quietly looked away, wisely ignoring Ron; for a few seconds just now, he had had a similar thought.

"It's still a while before Remus returns..." Professor McGonagall glanced a few times towards the Forbidden Forest, then looked at the two of them. "You can begin the first step of the ritual now. Do you have any Mandrake? I brought a few with me..."

Yes, yes.

"Loren and Hermione gave us some when they went back to school a few days ago."

Harry and Ron answered quickly, each putting Mandrake Leaf into their mouths.

"Frank, Frank!" came Mrs. Augusta's gruff shout from the Kitchen of the Longbottom ancestral home. "Are you planning to play this boring game of jumping off the building with Neville until dawn?!"

"Of course not, my dear mother!" Frank Lomberton answered loudly.

"Then hurry up and bring the stew I made to the table!"

Neville looked up at his father with a satisfied smile. Frank was playing a traditional Gryffindor game with him, in which the player jumps from the Third Floor and must swing his wand before breaking his leg, using Levitation Charm or Cushioning Charm in time.

Frank said this was the most popular game in Gryffindor when he was in school, and they used to jump out of the windows of the Gryffindor Tower. Neville had never heard of this game before, probably because the windows of the Gryffindor Tower had been reduced in size when he enrolled.

Frank closed the attic window, winked at Neville, and whispered, "She always felt that her cooking was different from House-elf make, that it contained so much love for her family, so she always cooked for her family when they had a get-together... That's a terrible habit."

Frank paused for a moment, then said, "If you ask me, if there's any difference, it's that the House-elf ' cooking is much tastier."

Neville couldn't help but laugh.

Fortunately, Alice and Aunt Enid were the chefs today, with Augusta just helping out. The atmosphere at the table was even more lively than at the Christmas Feast, because Frank was on duty at the Ministry of Magic on Christmas Eve.

"That's more like it!" Uncle Algie, his face flushed from drinking six or seven glasses of Scotland whisky, slapped Frank's shoulder forcefully and said in a gruff voice.

"Aurors, Aurors, all I know is Aurors. You've been locked up in the hospital for so long, and you're still the same as before. You didn't even come home for Christmas to be with your family... If it weren't for Neville and Alice, I would have really wanted to give you a good beating!"

Frank could only force a painful smile.

Neville looked at his father with some worry. Uncle Algie really meant it when he said he'd beat him. When he was very young, Uncle Algie had pushed him off the dock to test his magical talent... Even though he almost drowned that time, it didn't stop Uncle Algie from throwing him off the attic later.

In short, Uncle Algie was capable of anything when he was drunk.

"Don't worry about them, Neville ..." Alice noticed that Neville's chin was stained with oil, so she took a handkerchief and gently wiped it off for him, then pinched his cheek. "Eat more, look, you've lost weight at school."

Neville's face flushed slightly. He was already a third-year wizard, but his mother had always treated him like a child since she came to her senses... and he thought it was better for him to be thinner.

Mrs. Longbottom looked at them with a smile. This was the scene she had always hoped to see. She thought to herself that she would be content to die now.

"Next summer there's the Quidditch World Cup ..." Uncle Algie downed another glass of whiskey, then squeezed Frank's shoulder hard. "Take Neville out and have some fun. The three of you have never been on a trip together before!"

"Next summer..." Frank winced in pain, "The Quidditch World Cup needs a lot of manpower to maintain order, I can apply—ouch, ouch, ouch!"

"Stop thinking about your damn job!" Uncle Algie tightened his grip slightly. "Take Neville and Alice out and have some fun, understand?"

"Understood, understood!" Frank hurriedly agreed, taking advantage of a moment when Agil was pouring him alcohol to free his shoulder. While glancing at Agil's expression, he tentatively said, "Next summer there's the International Confederation of Wizards. Before the Quidditch World Cup starts... Alice and I can go to United States first to track down Bellatrix— "

"You son of a bitch!" Algie laughed in anger, reaching out to punch him—

The usually silent Mrs. Longbottom suddenly spoke up, "Let them go!"

The lively and cheerful atmosphere of the dinner party suddenly froze, and everyone at the table turned to look at Mrs. Longbottom.

"The dignity of the Longbottom family is inviolable!"

"Last time, she relied on her superior numbers and a sneak attack..."

"That damned madwoman dared to persecute Frank and Alice; she needs to pay for it!"

Mrs. Longbottom's gaze swept over the faces of everyone at the table, and even Algie, whose head was spinning from the alcohol, dared not meet her eyes. "Have I made myself clear enough?"

"Yes!"

Frank and Alice answered in deep voices.

The ceramic plates were clean and white, and the silver cutlery reflected a metallic luster. Neville pursed his lips and looked ahead, the candlelight burning brightly in the boy's eyes.

Hermione opened the window, letting the soft, silvery moonlight stream in. The January weather was still a bit chilly, and the sudden influx of cold air made her instinctively shrink her neck.

As she gradually adjusted to the temperature, Hermione opened her palm and examined the dark green leaves in her hand. Under the moonlight, the Mandrake leaves shimmered with a faint glow.

Start by holding Mandrake in your mouth now, bury the Secret Potion at school next month, and soon the spring rainy season will arrive.

Hermione planned, her thin lips parted slightly, and she put Mandrake Leaf into her mouth. The cool leaf made her shiver again.

"Coo coo!"

With the sound of flapping wings, two owls landed on the windowsill: a little Hānhan Spectacled Owl and a snowy owl with snow-white feathers.

Hermione initially mistook it for Harry's Hedwig, but after a closer look, she realized something was amiss. The snowy owl's feathers were far too white, while Hedwig's coat was mixed with some gray and black variegated colors.

"Hānhan, is he your new friend...?"

Hermione's curious voice gradually subsided as she noticed that the snow-white owl had heterochromatic eyes, a deep black and a clear blue.

Hermione glanced at the two owls and immediately guessed what was going on. A smile crept onto Hānhan lips as she slowly approached them, subtly extending her hands.

"Smack!"

Hermione's not-so-clean little hand was swatted back by a wing, and she grumbled, "What's wrong with that? I can't even touch you? It's not like I'm going to eat you..."

The owl with pure white feathers tilted its head and glanced at her. Seeing that she was restless and came closer again, Loren flapped its wings and flew into Hermione's bedroom, landing on the blankets by the bed.

"Hehe..." Hermione walked towards him with a bright smile, "Let me check if there's anything I missed in the Transfiguration..."

Before he could finish speaking, the snow-white owl flapped its wings and transformed into the boy sitting on the edge of the bed. Loren crossed his legs and looked at Hermione with a smile on his lips.

Hermione's smile instantly turned to disappointment, and the light in her eyes dimmed. "You've already mastered Transfiguration..."

"Um."

Hermione wasn't about to give up. She took a few steps forward, grabbed Loren by the collar, and demanded fiercely, "Transform now!"

"..." Loren felt a strange sense of familiarity with this scene. He lowered his eyes and lazily asked, "Transform into what?"

"Turn into an owl, no, turn into a cat!"

Are you sure?

Loren lifted his eyelids, his eyes sparkling with interest, as if he had thought of something very interesting.

Hermione had a vague sense of unease, but she didn't dwell on it. "I'm sure!"

She watched as Loren drew his wand, the tip drawing ever closer to her brow. A growing sense of unease intensified in her heart; her eyes widened, but her pupils began to contract. "Wait, wait—"

A strange Magic Power fluctuation emanated from the tip of the staff, spreading along her skin and enveloping Hermione in a transparent membrane. The membrane then began to change, and Hermione's body changed accordingly.

Pop!

With a soft pop, the membrane shattered, and a Munchkin cat landed on Loren's lap.

The Munchkin cat has a roughly triangular head, large eyes, a small nose, a thick, soft coat, and a long, thick, soft tail. Hermione's Munchkin was primarily white with a patch of tan on the top of her head and around her ears.

Loren ruffled the fluffy kitten's head. "Oh dear, the hair color has been preserved. I guess my Transfiguration aren't good enough..."

He scratched the kitten's chin with his finger again. "But it looks pretty good like this, don't you think?"

Hermione kitten stared blankly, and it took her a while to adjust to her current form before she looked up at the culprit with lifeless eyes.

She knew, she knew it all along, she should have known...

It's all because impulsiveness blinded her reason...

Loren wanted to bury his head in her belly and suckle, but after thinking about it, he realized it was too perverted and gave up the idea. Instead, he started massaging the kitten with his skillful cat-petting technique.

First, place both hands above the kitten's head, make circular motions with your two thumbs, and scratch with the other eight fingers using light and moderate force, varying the speed.

Hermione stared at him blankly, hearing a dull tapping sound in her head, a ticklish, tingling sensation, and a tingling tingling on her scalp.

The second step is to start from the back of the neck, cover it with your palms sideways, avoiding the spine, and push diagonally along both sides of the kitten's body, from the back of the neck all the way to its buttocks, applying slightly more pressure.

Hermione felt a sore, relaxed sensation in her back, like a massage. But when those hands moved to an unsuitable spot, the kitten suddenly howled and bit his right hand, glaring at him fiercely.

"Meow!"

Her voice was soft and sweet, like she was being coquettish.

"Don't move, I'm giving you a massage..." Loren hooked his finger, rubbed his little tongue against hers, and pulled his hand away. "Also, make sure you keep your Mandrake Leaf in your mouth, or you'll fail again."

Upon hearing the Mandrake,"Hermione immediately shut her mouth and glared at him with shame and indignation.

"What are you looking at? Keep massaging." Loren hummed a little tune and began the third step.

The third step is to rhythmically and evenly pat the kitten's back, varying the pressure from light to heavy...

Next came an abdominal massage, but Hermione absolutely refused to let him touch her, so Loren had to repeat the previous steps.

A few minutes later, the kitten lay blankly on Loren's lap, its pink nose constantly exhaling warm, moist breath.

"How is it? Comfortable?"

"Meow!"

"Ouch, why is it biting?"

Feeling relieved after getting his revenge, Loren was certain that his cat-petting technique had also pleased the kitten.

Another win-win situation!