Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Nothing you recognize belongs to me. Just borrowed. Will be returned. Snape is welcome to stay, though.

My beta readers, Maggie and Melusin, deserve much thanks and the highest praise, a lot of chocolate, flowers and relaxing music. All remaining errors are my fault.

Chapter 2

Three days later, Minerva and I met again. I felt very accomplished when I put the star charts on the table. Minerva merely smiled and put a small pouch beside the stack of charts.

"What's this?" I asked.

"These are Galleons with a mint date from before 1981. I was lucky to find some in my own vault. That way, I could avoid nosy questions. Mind you, there are only a few, but they should be enough to get you through a month or so. If you need more, you will need to sell a few of the jewels here." She unpacked another small parcel, which contained a few necklaces, rings and bracelets, all in an antique style that wouldn't raise suspicions in the past.

"I didn't even think of this," I said, feeling guilty. "I was so absorbed in the charts, and Trelawney's constant nagging about my lack of inspiration didn't help much.

Minerva chuckled. "Poor Sybill! She has so few opportunities to gloat. Don't begrudge her the little triumph."

I couldn't suppress a smirk. "All right. This one time, I'll let her gloat. I won't need her help again; I have enough charts to go back in time, and forward again, for several months. Just in case..."

"Good idea. What else do you have? Do you have the cloak?"

"Invisibility Cloak, Marauder's Map, an 80's-style nylon bag with personal essentials. All set."

"And your spider-glasses?"

"Of course I have my spider-glasses! How could I go anywhere without them?" I laughed.

I don't think you know about this, Severus. My spider-glasses are eight very small lenses, set in a thin, complicated wire frame. They are unbreakable and my own invention.

The reason for this is that a while ago, I decided to become an Animagus, which didn't really surprise anyone who knew about it. You know that I've always been outstanding at Transfiguration, and it challenged me. I thought that something Peter Pettigrew could do shouldn't be too complicated for me. Minerva agreed to tutor me, and after a short time of intense training, I succeeded.

To the amusement of Minerva, and the utter shock and horror of Ron Weasley, my Animagus form had turned out to be a giant tarantula. I found that a spider could be quite useful, but Ron couldn't get over his disgust and revulsion. This had, eventually, caused our break-up. Whenever I had wanted to kiss Ron, he had flinched, apologised emphatically, but still seemed unable to suppress his reaction. I felt that a relationship under these circumstances wasn't possible and had initiated the break-up. I was less regretful than I thought I would be. Ron seemed relieved, and we have remained friends.

As you undoubtedly know, a spider can be useful in many ways, but it has the huge disadvantage of poor eyesight. Giant tarantulas can, at best, see dark and light shapes as well as movement. Their perception of their environment happens through vibrations, touch, an incredible sense of smell and sound, but not through sight. I know that this doesn't prevent them from being excellent hunters, but I found that I liked to see what was going on around me and not only to feel and smell it. That's how I came up with the glasses. Attached to my ears and forehead, the small wire frame with the tiny lenses transforms into a marking on the spider's body; the lenses, however, become part of my eight eyes and allow me to see almost normally when I am in spider form.

"YOU WERE THE SPIDER?"

"No, it's not. Just listen, will you?"

After taking stock, I was ready to travel. A brief argument had convinced Minerva that her office wasn't the ideal place to start from and come back to; I feared that it wasn't safe enough by far. Thus, we went to the Room of Requirement where I walked up and down the corridor, envisaging a room with a huge clock, a comfortable sofa, a calendar, and all the Daily Prophets from the past and current month.

The room complied; a door appeared, and we entered. I hugged Minerva, who gave me some last-minute advice, and then I set the watch and spun the planets.

The Room of Requirement dissolved, and I had the sensation that I was flying, very fast, backwards. I knew that sensation from my third year. Only now I seemed to be flying so much faster. The air stream from the movement was hitting my face like an icy whip, and I started to feel cold. A blur of colours and shapes rushed past me at nauseating speed; my ears were pounding. For a moment, I was afraid that the time span was too big, that I couldn't survive travelling back that far. I tried to scream, but couldn't hear my own voice.

Then, all of a sudden, I felt solid ground beneath my feet, and everything came into focus again.

It took me a moment to get over the time-travel induced nausea. This had been a wild ride, much rougher than the few hours I had travelled back in time during my third year.

The room, however, seemed unchanged. For a moment, I wondered if time had changed for me at all, but a glance at the calendar and the stack of Daily Prophets showed that I was exactly where, and when, I wanted to be. The calendar showed September 1st 1981.

When I had talked the plan over with Minerva, we had both agreed that I should take some time to get acquainted with the Hogwarts from eighteen years ago, to get my bearings. I would need a little practice to move around in my spider form without being seen by anyone. Of course, I could have walked around under Harry's Invisibility Cloak, but I knew that Professor Dumbledore had an uncanny ability to detect people who tried to hide under Invisibility Cloaks. And I knew that you, Severus, have a similar ability, even if it's not as well developed as Dumbledore's was. If either of you had found out, my mission would have been over. I knew that a spider, even a giant tarantula, would arouse less suspicion.

As a second option, Minerva suggested that I should try to get information about items that could become potential Horcruxes at the Hog's Head: items like stolen or sold antiques, jewellery, weapons, things that could have a connection to Voldemort's past.

I knew that the barman at the Hog's Head was Albus Dumbledore's brother, Aberforth, so I had one person there I knew I could trust not to harm me, although Aberforth wouldn't know who I was or that we would be allies later. The plan was for me to rent a room at the Hog's Head and maybe ask for temporary employment. I thought that this was a good idea. I can serve drinks and clean up, and so far, every pub I've ever seen can use a pair of extra hands on weekends. I hoped that a few weekends of helping out at the pub might just get me the information I needed. After all, Harry, Ron, and I found the Locket Horcrux at the Hog's Head last year.

Aberforth Dumbledore had been involved in trading goods of questionable origin for a long time, and while I remembered from my fifth year that the pub hadn't exactly been a place where a young, single woman would feel welcome and secure, I also remembered that Sybill Trelawney had stayed there for several days while she was applying for the Divination position. If a Trelawney could do it, a Hermione Granger should be able to do it as well, I thought.

However, the most important part of my mission would focus on you, Severus. My ultimate goal was to be present at Death Eater meetings and observe as much of Voldemort's actions as possible. The safest way for me to accomplish that, I thought, was through you. As the allotted spy for Voldemort, you would be required to follow your Dark Lord's summons repeatedly. If I could come up with a routine to accompany you in my spider form, maybe hidden in one of your pockets, then, I hoped, I would be able to learn something about Dorcas Meadowes.

From old Daily Prophets, I knew that Miss Meadowes had been found dead on October 5th. That meant that she had been killed a month after school started at Hogwarts. I would have a month to find out how to best gather information about the details of the killing and about the item that was used to create the Horcrux. For a brief moment, I had considered actually hiding in Dorcas Meadowes' vicinity, but Minerva had strictly forbidden me to get close to the woman while she still lived.

"You will want to prevent her death, Hermione. I know you."

"But if I did, it would prevent the creation of the Horcrux, wouldn't it?"

"Think, Hermione. Voldemort would just kill someone else. Then we'd have the same dilemma: a thoroughly changed past, and who knows if we would even have the opportunity again to find out what the Horcrux was with another victim as its source."

"Oh, Merlin, my head hurts," I complained, rubbing my temples. "I am starting to understand why people go mad when they time-travel. How can anyone stand to just watch, knowing what will happen, and not prevent people from being killed...."

Minerva had glared at me. "Don't even think about interfering with the Potters' fate, Hermione. The consequences would be unthinkable. We might not even be here.... The world could be completely different.... Voldemort could have won if he hadn't been defeated by Harry that day."

I had hung my head. "I know... I know!" I wailed. "Are you certain that I am the right person to do this?"

"Yes. You have all the prerequisites needed. You will have to suppress your pity and compassion––as hard as it is––but I know that you are a realist, Hermione. If anyone can do it, you can. I would never trust something like this to Harry...."

"I hope you are right, Minerva. I hope I can live up to your expectations...." And so we had stopped discussing the inevitable and looked for other options to get the information needed.

Watching your younger self seemed the most rewarding and least dangerous choice. Your frequent meetings with Voldemort, and the reports you gave Albus Dumbledore about them, made you an invaluable source of information. I hoped that I could tap that source, disguised in my Animagus form. If that plan failed, I would have to spy on a known Death Eater to get the information I needed, and your connection to Lucius Malfoy made him the next logical choice. I fervently hoped that this wouldn't be necessary; I very much doubted that he would tolerate a giant spider if he found me.

So there I was, back in 1981, reading the original Daily Prophets from that time, finding that the headlines very much resembled those from eighteen years later, with reported Death Eater attacks, nonsensical safety instructions from the Ministry of Magic, and complaints and calls for more action from the readers.

With a sigh, I put the paper down and put on my spider-glasses. I tied Harry's Invisibility Cloak around my waist, put my bag on my shoulder and carefully opened the door, listening for any activity. Since I had chosen the early afternoon hours for my arrival, no students were around yet, and not even Filch was prowling around. Another quick glance up and down the corridor, and I cast the spell that transformed me into the giant tarantula. Halfway up the wall, I cautiously left the Room of Requirement to roam the unknown realms of a Hogwarts from eighteen years before our present time.

Hours after I left the Room of Requirement, I had found my way to the dungeons. Students had arrived on the Hogwarts Express half an hour previously, and everyone was waiting in the Great Hall for the start-of-term feast. I thought that this would be the ideal time to look around the dungeons and find the best place to hide for watching your comings and goings.

Tired, because using eight legs for moving about was a lot more exhausting than using two, I was crawling around a corner, half hidden behind a buttress when I heard voices.

"Don't you think they'll miss us?" a voice said.

"No way. They won't notice. They'll be so worked up over the Sorting that they won't even think about anything else. We'll just sneak back when everyone is eating." A different voice, sounding young and confident.

"I have a bad feeling about this," the first voice spoke again. "What if he isn't at the Feast yet? We don't even know if he goes to the Feast."

"All the teachers go to the Feast, and he's new and the youngest. He'll be introduced, so he'll have to go. Dumbledore won't make any exceptions for the greasy git."

I listened attentively. Clearly these were students, and they were talking about you. But what were they doing in the dungeons? They had to be up to no good....

"We'll just switch the ingredients, and off we go. Boy, will he ever be in for a surprise when the Limb-Regeneration Draught develops into fireworks, and it's his own fault." The second voice chuckled.

"You're certain that that's what's on our syllabus first? How do you know?"

"Oh, come on, it was on Slughorn's syllabus for decades. My older brother told me."

"Now, Snape won't change anything in his first year of teaching. So it'll be that potion. And then his first year of teaching will be his last. Just wait until we can tell Potter all about it. I'm sure he'll be coming here for our Quidditch matches again, this year. Down with the Slytherins," the second voice proclaimed pompously.

"Ah... well, then. Let's get on with it. We want to uphold the proud tradition of our house after all, the house of the famous Marauders, sworn enemies of Slytherins." Both voices laughed nastily.

"Right..." The first voice paused.

I stretched my pedicle––the part that separates my spider self's combined upper body and head from my abdomen. I wanted to see what was going on but would have lost my foothold on the buttress if I had stretched any further. So I cautiously started to move to get a better view, trusting that my brown colour made me almost invisible against the brown stones of the castle walls.

I was wrong. With an excited shriek, the first student threw his jumper at me, and I tumbled to the floor, thankful that the jumper buffered the fall.

"It's a giant tarantula," First Voice squeaked while I struggled to get free. "It must be someone's pet."

"No matter," the second voice said eagerly. "Now, it's ours. We can release it in our first Potions lesson or throw it into a cauldron. That'll show the git..."

I started to panic. Ending up as a potions ingredient wasn't on my agenda. I had to get away before those idiots hurt me.

"Watch out, it's getting away!" Second Voice called out. A pair of large, clumsy hands were trying to grab me, but I slipped through the fingers, only to be almost flattened by First Voice's similarly big hands. With barely a hair's breadth, I scuttled past the hitting hands and towards the wall, but was stopped again by a jumper thrown my way.

"Crazy beast. I'll get you, just you wait...," Second Voice said menacingly.

"Maybe if we let things calm down a bit?" First Voice suggested. "When it doesn't feel threatened, it might be easier to catch. It's someone's pet; it must be used to being picked up."

You're not quite as stupid as you look, I thought cruelly, trying to find a way out.

"Here, spider...," Second Voice coaxed, slowly closing in on me.

Meanwhile, First Voice slowly approached me from the side.

They won't give me a chance, I thought worriedly. I will have to use my full arsenal.

And while both boys closed in, I raised my upper body and my front legs in a threatening manner and produced a shrill hissing sound.

"What's that?" First Voice asked. "Is it purring?"

"It's a spider, not a cat," Second Voice laughed. "No idea what that sound is, but we have the spider cornered. On the count of three?"

The other boy nodded, but before the two boys could grab me, I shot some of my barbed defensive hairs towards my attackers, hitting one in the eyes, the other one in the nose. Both backed off immediately and started to scream.

"My eyes, my eyes, I'm blind!" Second Voice screamed, tears streaming down his face from his closed eyes.

First Voice only answered with a violent sneeze and endless coughing.

Serves you right, I thought and climbed up the wall to get out of reach. But before I could get away, I heard another voice. I hid behind a pillar and froze.

"What's this racket?" It was Filch, walking around the corner, a mop and bucket in his hands. "Oh, dear, what have we here? Why aren't the young gentlemen in the Great Hall where they belong? Sneaking around in the dungeons, are we? My, my, my, we're in trouble. Very big trouble." He smiled happily. "Follow me, Gentlemen. When the Feast is over, the Headmaster will want to see you."

"Spider," First Voice managed to spit out between coughs. "Attacked us..." And he pointed to the wall and continued coughing.

"A spider, you say? Attacked you?" Filch seemed to only now notice the miserable condition the two students were in.

"Big spider," Second Voice sobbed. "It's dangerous. Don't let it get away."

"Let's see..." Filch grabbed his mop firmly. "Wouldn't be the first spider to be sorry to crawl around here ... Where are you, creepy-crawly? Here, creepy-crawly...." And he came closer, almost looking straight at me. I prepared myself for another attack.

The gleam in Filch's eyes told me that he had spotted me. "Now, there it is..." He raised his mop, but before he could strike at me, I jumped at his hand and bit him with all my might, making certain that I released venom while I did so.

Filch shook his hand and howled. "Gerroff, gerroff..." His other hand flapped wildly in my direction, but was too far off the mark to hurt me. My pincers held on to Filch's skin for dear life. I had no idea what to do next, and fervently hoped that I wouldn't be forced to give up my Animagus form to prevent being beaten to death by the three enraged, would-be spider-hunters. But before I had to make a decision, yet another voice made itself heard.

"Filch? What is going on here?"

The voice was low, soft and sounded dangerous. For me, it was the most welcome voice in the world since it belonged to you. I could have kissed you. I only hoped that you had more sense than to join in on the spider hunt.

"A giant tarantula, Professor," Filch whimpered and raised his hand, shaking it, dangling Me-the-Spider under your nose. "It attacked these students and then it bit me."

You looked quietly at me and then held out your hand, stroking my hind legs softly with your other hand; I would have purred if I had been a cat, and I let Filch's hand go. With a soft pop, I fell into your outstretched hand and sat still.

"Go and see Madam Pomfrey, Filch," you said quietly. "That bite needs treatment; there's poison in there."

"Thank you, Professor," Filch said sycophantically. "I'll go right away, sir." And with rapid, shuffling steps he went away.

"A Chilean Rose tarantula! Beautiful specimen," you murmured, your focus back on me. "Is this your pet?" You suddenly confronted First Voice, studying him with narrowed eyes. "Alfred Abercrombie, isn't it?"

"I'm Alfie Abercrombie, yes."

"Yes, sir." You snapped. "You will treat your teachers with respect. Is that clear?"

"Yes, sir!" Alfie replied, eyes wide.

"So, is this your pet, Mr. Abercrombie?"

"No, sir. Patrick and I were just minding our own business when that beast attacked us..."

"Minding your own business, were you?" you said softly. I knew that tone, and I didn't envy Alfie Abercrombie. "Then, pray tell, what business did you have down here when everybody else is at the Welcoming Feast?" Your nose almost touched Abercrombie's. "Snooping around, stealing ingredients for illegal potions, weren't you?"

"Err... no, sir." Alfie said carefully. "We must have got lost. The moving staircases, you know." He glanced sideways at his friend, and I could have sworn that he winked.

"The moving staircases.? I see," you said in an even softer voice. "Two seventh-year boys get lost in a corridor they have trudged twice a week for the past six years of their lives. Care to explain that to me?" you suddenly shouted, your face red.

"Sorry, sir." Second voice, no, Patrick spoke up.

"And you would be... Patrick Peakes? Yet another Gryffindor who can't find his way, I see." You stared at both boys for a long time. Then you nodded. "Messing up ingredients. Just as I thought. Give the new git a bit of a hard time, wasn't that it?"

You looked as if you wanted to hex someone. I sat very still, enjoying the warmth radiating from your hand, amazed at the passionate vibrations I felt from you, my once-loathed teacher. Having the added sensations of a spider had its advantages, I thought.

The boys just looked at you silently, too embarrassed to talk.

"That'll be detention with Filch for four weeks and ten points from Gryffindor. Each!" You scowled at their appalled faces. "Go straight to Madam Pomfrey. Untreated, those hairs can cause serious trouble. And now get... OUT... OF... MY... SIGHT!"

The two students ran away as quickly as they could, and I was alone with you.

You took a deep breath, looked at me closely, stroked me cautiously and murmured, "Looks like I am stuck with you, spider. At least for a while. You're not allowed as a pet, you know." You stroked me again and then let me glide into the pocket of your robes as you hurried towards the Great Hall where the Headmaster had yet to introduce you as the new Potions teacher and Head of Slytherin House.

I sat very still, finally having found my ideal vantage point for further endeavours. With a contented sigh, I folded my legs and curled up into a ball.

"I still can't believe that that was you, you foolish girl. I could have squashed you so easily..."

"Rest assured that I would have transformed in time, Severus. I'm not suicidal. But the risk was worth it. I hope you'll come to see it like that, too."

The rest of the evening didn't quite progress as I had hoped. Back in the dungeons after the Feast, you first went to your private store cupboard and took a large glass jar with a wide mouth off a dusty shelf. You cleaned and dried the jar thoroughly and then went to your private quarters. A wave of your wand summoned some moss, rocks, a few roots and thick, mossy branches for the jar; another wave of the wand arranged the items invitingly––for a spider, that is. Then you took me out of your pocket and put me into the glass jar, closing it with a bit of cheesecloth tied to the rim.

"There, isn't that a fine home? Tomorrow, I'll get you a few fat crickets from Kettleburn, or perhaps a mouse."

I watched in wonder as you gave me an almost relaxed smile and then turned around to go to your desk. Sitting down, you opened several books and started to read and take notes on a piece of parchment.

I was very upset. Sitting in a cage wasn't at all what I had planned for my excursion to the past. This wouldn't do; I had to get out of this. I started to climb up the glass wall, and with the help of the hairs on my claws, managed to get up to the rim but couldn't think of a way to get through the cheesecloth. Desperately, I hopped towards it, only to fall down and land at the mossy bottom of my prison. After I had repeated this exercise three or four times, you looked up from your work, stood up and walked over to my cage.

"If you continue with this, you'll injure yourself, you stupid thing," you murmured. "And if I let you out, you'll get into mischief. I can't always run after you and save you." You knocked against the glass.

I only got more desperate. I rose up on my hind legs and started to produce my shrill sound of displeasure and warning again. Then I continued to attack the cheesecloth roof.

You shook your head and took the cloth off the jar. One final jump, and I sat on the rim, scuttling quickly towards you. You stretched out a hand; I jumped on it and then ran up your arm until I had reached your shoulder. There I settled down and held still.

"Oh, very well," you said, sounding slightly amused. "But don't complain if you accidentally get squashed; I have better things to do than watch out for you all the time." You sat back down at your desk and continued to work while I watched from your shoulder.

You were writing up lesson plans and something that looked like a speech. When you had finished, you stood up and started pacing up and down, memorising the speech, murmuring passages of it in a barely audible voice. This went on for a while, and I had almost dropped off to sleep when someone knocked on the door.

"Come!" you said. You radiated a sudden tension that made me wide-awake. It was a kind of excited, fearful alertness, paired with confidence. I found it difficult to analyse, not being used to detecting such strong feelings as a spider. Outwardly, you remained composed; your voice was steady and your stance calm and collected.

The door opened, and Headmaster Dumbledore entered. I thought my heart would stop, or what substituted for a heart in a spider. Dumbledore had been killed two years previously by the same man I was now trusting to help me find a solution to the Horcrux dilemma, and seeing the Headmaster alive and cheerful again almost broke my heart.

You had offered the Headmaster a seat in front of the cold fireplace and sat down in an armchair opposite him. Dumbledore smiled gently and gracefully accepted the glass of Firewhisky that was offered.

"I don't want to trouble you for long, Severus. I am aware of the late hour. I merely came to see how you were faring, and if you're all set for tomorrow, or if I can help you with anything." His blue eyes shone kindly from behind his half-moon glasses.

"Thank you, Headmaster, but I am fine. Everything is prepared; there won't be any problems," you said quietly.

"There was some trouble earlier this evening, wasn't there?" Dumbledore asked.

You nodded. "Yes, two students out of bounds. They were found, and punished, accordingly."

"Two seventh-year Gryffindors, weren't they? Old enough to remember you as a student here...." Dumbledore paused and studied you sitting stiffly in your armchair, holding on to your own glass of Firewhisky as if it were a lifesaver." I know how difficult this is for you, Severus. They won't respect your authority easily. If I can be of any assistance, please tell me."

"That won't be necessary, Headmaster," you said coldly, but I felt the suppressed tension: a mixture of worry, affection for the old man, and an effort to distance yourself. "I will find means of establishing my... authority... with the students. I do not expect that they will confuse me with Professor Slughorn for very long."

Dumbledore chuckled gently. "I'd say that looking at you, there is little danger of that. Don't be too hard on them, Severus. Horace's criteria for his Advanced Potions class weren't the same yours will be, I daresay. Please don't let the students suffer for his foolishness. My friend Horace has many good qualities, but being objective isn't one of them, sadly." Dumbledore smiled again.

"Very well," you said with a slight sneer. "I shall treat them as fairly as they deserve to be treated. Is there anything else, Headmaster?"

"Have you been summoned recently?"

"No, and I would have alerted you if I had been summoned. Just like I did last time."

"Yes, of course. Well, then I had better go and get some sleep." Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. "Go to bed, Severus. You are well prepared; you will do well tomorrow. And, as I see, you have adopted an ancient good-luck charm." His finger pointed towards me and came a bit too close. I rose my front part and started to hiss.

You took me off your shoulder and stroked me gently. "She's an interesting creature. Lively and almost foolishly determined and brave." You smirked. "She must be a Gryffindor pet."

"Why, thank you on behalf of my old house, Severus." Dumbledore chuckled. "From the way she attacked those two poor boys, I would rather have thought that she wasn't overly fond of Gryffindors. Maybe you can make a true Slytherin out of her. Will you keep her?"

"For the time being. If no one claims her. Eventually, I will ask Professor Kettleburn to find a permanent home for her. "

"Good," Dumbledore said. "She seems to like you, by the way she relaxes in your hand. Does she have a name?"

"I shall call her Arachne. That is a proud name for a spider. I think she deserves it."

"Arachne. A good choice. Take care of your friend here, Arachne. He needs the good luck tomorrow. All the best to you for tomorrow, Severus. You know that my office is always open to staff?"

"Yes, you've told me twice already," you said, the smirk moving into a slight sneer.

"There you have it; I'm getting old. I had better go now. Goodnight, Severus."

"Goodnight, Headmaster."

You finished your work, carefully put me/Arachne back into the glass jar, but you left it open this time. Then you went to the bathroom. When you came back out, I saw to my amusement that you were wearing an old-fashioned grey nightshirt that ended just below the knees and revealed your legs. I was glad that a spider couldn't giggle and waited for you to settle for the night.

When you slept, I left my cage and crawled out of your quarters through a vent in your bathroom. I didn't dare transfer back to human form in your rooms; I didn't know what kind of warding spells you used to protect yourself from intruders. So I transformed when I was outside in the corridor and then made my way out of the castle under Harry's Invisibility Cloak. I walked to the Forbidden Forest where I used the Time-Turner again and travelled back in time a few hours. I straightened my hair with Sleekeazy's and put on a bit of make-up so I didn't look too young. Then I Apparated to Hogsmeade where I went to the Hog's Head. I had no trouble renting a room there. I ate my meal in the pub and kept my eyes and ears open, but didn't hear anything of interest. The barman agreed to take me on as a helper on Saturday nights, which made me glad. Back in my room, I stretched out a bit, and after a few hours of sleep, I went back to Hogwarts.

In the early morning hours, you were still asleep. I returned to my cage and rested there until you woke up.

"Merlin, I can't believe the risk you took. There was so much that could have gone wrong. How Minerva could have allowed this escapes me."

"I don't think that is any of your business. Get on with your tale..."