The Exact Art...

Summary: Hermione wakes up not in Severus's lap, but in her bed at school... but when? Meanwhile, Severus gets all hot and bothered. Demetrios isn't much help with that, really, but he does provide an actual explanation. How astonishing of him.

A/N: As always, my thanks to the Furies: Ana, Annie, Indy, Karelia (who hasn't seen this one yet), Machshefa, and Melenka. With everyone in transit, any comma mistakes are my own...

In celebration of the first blooms at Chateau Ari, all hail Spring.

~ Ari

23: The Exact Art...

He saw her eyes lose focus the moment before she collapsed facedown into his lap.

-----

The feeling of something soft butting her hand brought Hermione back to herself.

"No, Mimi," she mumbled, "you really shouldn't –"

"Oh, do shut UP, Hermione," came Parvati's voice from across the room. "You've been talking ALL NIGHT."

Hermione's eyes flew open. Buggering hell – that's not my ceiling – it's my bloody canopy at... shite... shite shite shite...

"Who's Mimi?" Lavender's voice was muffled by sleep and, Hermione remembered, by her pillow, in which she always slept face down.

"Hermione's dream lover, Lav. Go back to sleep."

Lavender lifted her face from the pillow. "Hermione's gay?"

"I'm not," Hermione mumbled, her mind racing frantically for some clue as to which year it might be, "but so what if I were?"

"More for us, then." Lavender bedsprings creaked as she rose to one elbow. "Who's Mimi?"

"She's uh... kitten. In my dream. Sorry."

"Cheat on your familiar on your own time, luv," Lavender grumbled, punching her pillow higher before dropping her head back into it with excessive drama.

"Shut it, girls, please," Parvati whined.

"Rrrrr."

Hermione swallowed. "Crooky?" she whispered, peering through the pre-dawn twilight to see his familiar ginger bulk sprawled over her chest. "Hey, old man..."

He turned his head into her hand, but when their eyes met, he arched his back and hissed, his tail bushing out to three times its normal size.

---

Severus stared bug-eyed at the back of Hermione's head in his lap, all thoughts of her earlier unseemly behavior dissipating as he felt her breath warm through his trousers.

He looked uncomfortably at the ceiling. "Hermione."

No response from his lap.

Strictly speaking, that was a lie, but there was none from Hermione.

"As pleasant as that sensation is, your timing is..." He coughed.

Hermione didn't move.

The eyes of Athena's owl were visible between her fingers.

Blast.

---

Hermione tried to calm Crookshanks, giving him her hand to sniff.

It's me, silly. I look like me, I smell like me... at least I assume I do... oh, buggering hell, when am I?

Crookshanks glared at her hand but deigned to sniff it cautiously, glancing wide-eyed from her face to her hand several times as he repeated the process.

Her mind provided nothing more helpful than inchoate static as it raced in pointless circles. Severus... Mimi... the coin... I didn't toss it... Mimi... Severus... surely I'll return soon.

She closed her eyes and waited to return to her flat.

---

After a seriously awkward several minutes during which Hermione's position grew ever more untenable, Severus gave up trying to conceal the fact that his breathing had grown very strained, indeed.

He moved his leg and eased her gently to the floor.

She lay still, her eyes closed, the coin still grasped firmly in her hand.

He unclenched his jaw and exhaled.

Mimi looked up at him, her golden eyes luminous in the late afternoon light.

"And?"

Her tail lashed once in response.

As his breathing returned to a rate he deemed more appropriate for the circumstances, he crossed the room in two strides and tossed a handful of Floo powder into the hearth.

"Get me that buggering ghost."

"Demetrios of Alexandria is currently at the British Library (Wizarding Branch). Who shall I say is calling?"

His mind latched onto a name at random. "Charlemagne, you disembodied excuse for –"

"At once, Your Majesty."

Severus's invisible eyebrow flew skyward.

"Connecting you now..."

The flames flickered, and Mimi scampered across the floor, miscalculating her speed and sliding into Severus's leg.

"Not now, Mimi," he admonished the kitten, who was craning around his leg, eyes fixed on the low flames

The flames leapt high as the connection was established, and Mimi hid behind Severus's cloak. "Severus Snape, I presume?"

"I'm not buggering Charlemagne," Severus snarled.

"No more would you want to, my boy... to what do I owe..."

"She's gone."

"Gone?"

"Hermione," Severus explained.

"Well, of course Hermione, my boy – I didn't imagine you meant your familiar."

"She's not come back."

"If you would take but a breath – so to speak – do you draw breath, I wonder?"

Severus's nostrils flared. "She flipped your foolish toy and hasn't returned. Where has she gone?"

"Meee?"

"Ah, the delightful Mimi," Demetrios said.

The shape of a hand appeared in the flames, wiggling its fingers toward the kitten.

Mimi edged around Severus's leg and sniffed the hearth.

Then she sneezed.

"Charming!"

"Will you stop playing with my cat and –"

"I am merely paying my respects to your familiar."

Severus sputtered.

"Oh, dear. He's in state, is he, Mimi?"

"Meee," the kitten said sadly.

"Answer my question."

"Then do take a moment and at least aim for coherence, my boy..."

Severus clenched his fist but found himself obeying.

"Now. What seems to have happened to my owl?"

"Not to your owl, to Hermione, you –"

"Buggering ghost, yes; the Floo told me... "

The flames sparkled, and Mimi crept out from behind Severus, entranced.

"She tossed the coin and is now lying unconscious on the floor."

"Did she perhaps hit her head on something?"

"No..."

"Then I'm afraid that's impossible."

"Meee," the kitten informed them.

Severus struggled to maintain what equilibrium he yet possessed. "She is lying. Unconscious. On the floor."

"Yes, hm, how worrisome..." The flames swayed from side to side. "But it cannot have happened as you described. She tossed the coin, you said? Back up, and start again..." The flames swept to the left and waited.

Mimi raised on her hind legs and prepared to pounce on the flames. Severus scooped her into the air and placed her on his shoulder.

"Meee!" she complained, digging her claws through his hair for purchase.

Severus mentally replayed the scene. "Mimi was playing with her necklace and knocked the coin out of her hand."

"And Hermione caught it?"

"Yes."

"Did it bounce?"

"No."

"You're certain?"

Severus nodded. "Quite."

The flames whisked to the center of the hearth. "Smashing!"

"Where has Hermione gone?"

"Why, she's right there with you, of course." Demetrios chuckled. "The question is when, and I've no answer for that."

"Why isn't she returning?"

Demetrios laughed again, even more happily than before. "Obviously, my dear boy, she isn't returning because it's not her float she's following."

"Strive for coherence, Librarian."

"Oh, my word, he would have enjoyed you."

Severus shuddered involuntarily. "Aristotle?"

"Heavens, no; you're not his type. Galileo. But as I was saying..."

"Your point, if indeed you have one."

"Hermone hasn't returned from the past because she didn't toss the coin; she merely caught it."

Severus turned to glare at Mimi. "You did this."

She butted her head against his cheek, purring. "Meee," she said happily.

The flames flickered calmly. "Of course she did... how fascinating... oh, my, yes, the theoretical implications..."

Having no wish to remain by the Floo for an hour whilst Demetrios rambled about checking footnotes whilst Hermione lay insensate behind him, Severus intervened. "So she'll remain in the past until..." He had no idea how to finish.

"Until Athena grants her the wisdom Mimi was seeking, yes..."

"Mimi. Seeking wisdom."

"Quite, quite. Our little Hermione is not following her own float, she's following Mimi's." The flames went still.

"Cats don't float."

"Of course they do. How else do you suppose they land on their feet?"

A noise from Severus's throat said nothing but communicated a great deal.

"Relax, my boy. Keep her present self comfortable, and perhaps pour yourself a nice stiff drink. You sound as though you could use one."

---

Hermione was staring at her pumpkin juice. I hate pumpkin juice. I want my tea. When can I go home?

Her textbooks had informed her she'd landed squarely in fourth year.

That she'd completed the course exercises through Yule informed her that it was September.

September the second, to be exact.

Harry's face was alight with excitement at the thought of the Tri-Wizard Tournament. He and Ron were on about it now.

Fighting the urge to look toward the head table lest she inadvertently create more memories – Unseemly... – she closed her eyes, pushing a rasher of bacon around her plate, thinking distractedly in another corner of her mind about house-elves. Please, please, please let me go home soon.

Crookshanks leapt onto her lap and stared balefully at her.

Sighing, she fed him the bacon.

He'd not taken his eyes off of her all morning. She didn't recall his ever acting this way before.

She whispered a silent Charm at her reading notes.

The letters rearranged to read, "Spirrit smel lyke Hermny. Want spirrit owt. Want Hermny bak." Then, "Kitteh halp spirrit."

"Thanks, Crooky," she whispered, turning her face away from Harry and Ron to hide unbidden tears.

Her gaze fell on Severus's place – Professor Snape's – at the head table. Empty.

Harry and Ron, still speculating about what the tournament might entail, grabbed their books and headed for class. Ron was gesticulating broadly; Harry was laughing. Neither spared her a glance.

Hermione wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, stuffed her notes into her bag and followed, with Crookshanks padding silently behind.