As Draco scratched away with a quill, Hermione transfigured several of his books into various things, including a ginger cat. An elf bought them a late lunch. To her delight, the cat stole some of Draco’s ham, curled up in his lap, and went to sleep. Now and then, she would see his fingers stroke the long fur while he contemplated what he was writing. Hermione had to look away quickly and force her brain to think of something other than those elegant, stroking fingers.