One hand lingers on her waist as the other reaches out to scratch underneath the cat’s chin. Hermione pauses, surprised by the interaction. Crookshanks was a bit of an asshole, Draco had not been exaggerating when he said that. But they’ve clearly formed some sort of secret alliance as the cat leans into his touch and faint purrs can be heard through the living room. Not that she could blame him, those fingers were magical. The thought propelled her into motion, eager for more than a rogue thought could satisfy. She quietly excused herself to the kitchen, quickly getting the cat’s dinner ready as Draco leaned against the couch. She could feel his eyes on her as she moved around the kitchen. When she’d finished and returned to the living room, he was still watching her with those stormy grey eyes.