Chapter 03

Author's Note: This chapter contains one of the two mentions that garnered the "bestiality / animagus "relations" rating, but both scenes are uber-uber-mild. Still, there are those who might object, so...y'all been warned.

III.

...

Chin on his paws, Severus contemplated his life. It was changing, and he couldn't figure out what to do about it. He was changing, in fact. Relaxing...and softening. He blamed it on being a cat. There weren't any other influences in his life right now that could explain the way he melted.

Except for maybe the influence of a certain frizzy-haired know-it-all. It was her fingers that stroked the tension out of his body. Her fault for pampering him. Her lap he curled up in, her magazines and books they read together, her cooking that was making him full and sleek, and as contented as the cat he was forced to be. Except he didn't feel all that forced.

Minerva was due to arrive tomorrow and begin Hermione's private Animagi lessons. Had he still been a teacher, today would have been the day after all the children left the school, taking the Hogwarts Express back to London before dispersing across the countryside to their various homes. Had he not been forced to seemingly betray his employer, he would've been working alongside the other teachers, settling the last bits of post-term business, such as restoring the classrooms to rights, or perhaps ensuring that the various Potions ingredients were safely secured and stored to await the end of the summer holidays.

He had been a Potions Master for fifteen years, and the Defence Arts instructor for not quite a year. And then a heavily wanted man. He was still a heavily wanted man, as far as he knew. Having his former colleague come for a visit made him think about the upcoming lessons, and the end result of those lessons. There were, of course, concerns over whether or not he could clear his name. He had committed murder, by the letter of the law. By the spirit of it...he had merely assisted one of his very few friends to commit suicide.

Severus had plenty of concerns about whether he'd be thrown into Azkaban without a chance for a trial, or given a Dementor's Kiss without being allowed to testify to all, as Barty Crouch, Junior, had been treated. Once upon a time, he had hissed at Sirius Black in his rage about how excruciating something like that was rumored to be, and how he would still try to be there to watch it happen to the cur, if he could...while at the same time secretly fearing that was how he himself would wind up, at the end of the war.

He did deserve it, on several levels. He had done what was necessary, what was needed to stay in the Dark Lord's circle long enough to get every last scrap of information out of the serpentine bastard's service...but that didn't scrub all of the blood of his ill deeds from his skin.

But there was another concern he had to contemplate. A stranger and thus more disturbing one. It was bad enough that living as a cat for over a month now had taught him how to indulge in his unsuspected, heretofore unknown, yet remarkably sensual side. He reveled in the indolence of napping in a sunny patch, of indulging in full-body stretches, of curling up with his cheek pillowed on his own thigh. The bliss of being petted, the satisfaction of a really good scratch in just the right spot, the marrow-deep smugness being pampered with tidbits fed to him upon the delicate fingers of a lovely, brilliant young witch...

And there's the fly in my ointment, Severus thought, twisting onto his side. He was currently indulging in a sunny spot in the conservatory attached to the southern side of the sprawling 'cottage' of her aunt. A hedonistic sort of place, with three bedrooms, two baths, an indoor jacuzzi with a little sauna room off to one side, a conservatory-like solar positively blooming with plants that tantalized his feline senses... Distract himself as he might, it all came back to her.

Hermione Granger. She was lounging in a hammock strung between two posts in the conservatory. The rope-like structure was impossible for him to climb upon or walk across, since the ropes were too uncertain a surface for him to trust. She was also curled up with, "...A silly girl's book, all romantic nonsense and happily-ever-afters; you wouldn't like it," according to her. She was clad in a thin-strapped top and cutoff shorts that were even more abbreviated than her nightwear. They showed off her thighs and her shoulders, and the curve of her cleavage as she kicked one foot against the floor every now and again, keeping the hammock in gentle motion.

She was a nubile adult witch; emphasis on the adult part, even if she was roughly half his age. An attractive witch. Oh, her face was only modestly pretty, but her personality shone through her skin. Part of it was her sense of humor, a hefty portion was her compassion, and the rest of it was her intelligence. Her mind entranced him as much as any of her curves did, whenever they conversed, and they had conversed a lot. Already, she'd been forced to order a second copy of the Lucigna's Diary. They still had several pages to go in the first one, but there was no telling how long it would take them to figure out how to turn him back into a real man.

A part of him longed to turn back into a man for a specific reason; to rub himself up against those sweet, feminine, fully adult curves and have those sensually talented hands of hers stroking the body of a fully human, fully adult male. Part of him was disgusted that he was perving over a student, and yet another part of him kept pointing out that she wasn't his student, and hadn't been his student for a full year, now. A fourth part reminded him that she still didn't quite trust that he was honestly on her side of the war, and had always been. Albus' death still stood in their way.

Minerva knew who was still feeding the Order information, after Albus' death and his flight with young Mr. Malfoy to join the Dark Lord's forces. At least, he had a vague impression that the two of them had talked over the last year...but he couldn't really remember. He suspected that Pettigrew had tried to erase his knowledge of anything useful to relay to the Order about the Dark Lord's movements and such, and whatever hadn't been soaked up by his Animagus transformation had spilled over into other areas of his memory. He was glad that the ratty little man was firmly dead. Hermione had confirmed that much, at least.

The light of the sun had shifted in the last few minutes, coming through the vines climbing up the wrought ironwork supporting the panes of glass that formed the greenhouse-like conservatory wall. It gilded her curls on one side, making her look half mortal, half angelic... Severus nearly sneezed in a feline snort of disgust at his fancifulness. While it might be successfully argued that he was a devil, only the most ardent admirer would call such an argumentative, opinionated woman 'angelic'.

Sighing, he stretched out a little more on the flagstones. His personal patch of sunlight was fading, leaving him with the option of staying on the cooling pavement, or shifting to find a sunnier, warmer spot. Deciding he would move, he inhaled in preparation to stretching and rising...and caught a whiff of something delicious. It wasn't food, but it did make him strangely hungry.

It took him a few more sniffs to pinpoint a direction for the draft. Standing, he stretched, enjoying the pull and shudder of his muscles, then padded closer to the hammock. Then closer still. Passing beneath it as she kept it swinging with an occasional nudge of her toes, he sniffed at the air over his head. The hammock rocked back and forth, gradually slowing...there! Rising up onto his hind legs, Severus gingerly touched the stilled net with a paw, and sniffed deeply at her backside. That was where the ambrosia-like scent was originating.

Her foot kicked the hammock into motion again, forcing him to drop back to all fours. It also forced him to remember that he was a cat...and that sniffing the crotch of his hostess was not a wise thing to do. Not if she caught him at it. He would rather have her catching him licking his own genitals in public than admit he had a sudden desire to lick hers.

His feline instincts supplied the reason for why she should suddenly smell so good: the witch was in heat. A month ago, the war had ended and he hadn't known her then. He'd known her when her menses had come and gone...an embarrassing thing to realize, but that had been just before he'd found a way to communicate with her, before she knew he was a wizard trapped in a furry guise...but not when she was at her ripest stage, when she was ovulating.

Masculine fascination merged with feline instinct. He found himself balancing on his hind legs again, wobbling a little as his nose quested after that rump swinging overhead. The distant chiming of the doorbell startled both of them. As Hermione squirmed awkwardly out of the hammock, Severus chided himself silently but firmly to not do that again, before trotting after her as she headed for the front door.

Both were curious to know who was at the door. For her part, Hermione was also rather put-out; the romance novel she had been reading had just gotten to the best...i.e., smuttiest...part. Being interrupted while the heroine's loins were throbbing with an about-to-be-fulfilled desire left her own throbbing with utterly unfulfilled desire. Not that she had any experience with fulfilling said desires, beyond what she'd snuck on her own with a good book in one hand and the other caressing her flesh...something which she hadn't been able to do since realizing her new cat was anything but a cat...but it was the principle of the matter.

One just did not go around interrupting a good romance book at the hot-and-heaviest part! It was with that annoyance on her mind that she jerked open the front door, ready to snap at whoever her interrupter might be. Probably one of her nosy-parker neighbors, come to have a chat with Aunt Eumenia's pretty but reclusive niece.

The last person she expected to see was Minerva McGonagall.

"Good afternoon, Miss Granger," the Headmistress of Hogwarts stated, offering her a remarkably warm smile. "I hope you don't mind too much that I came a day early..."

Ready to tell her neighbors to stuff it, fighting back the urge to growl in frustration, and faced with the greatest living authority-figure from her time at Hogwarts, Hermione finally gave in and whinged, "...You interrupted a really good book!"

Minerva eyed her for a moment, then gave in and chuckled, shaking her head. "I'm glad to see some things will never change. Well? Aren't you going to invite me in?"

"Come in, Professor; you are welcome in my home. Even if I was just getting to the really smutty bit..." Turning as she closed the door again, Hermione caught sight of a black-furred body staring up at her, whiskers perked forward and blushed. "Er..."

"I'm actually glad to hear that. I always thought it was a waste to read only textbooks and trade journals for the whole of one's life. Mind you, Ars Morpha is a good trade journal," Minerva stated, allowing Hermione to take her cloak and hang it on the coat-tree, "but I also have a monthly subscription to that Muggle company, Harlequin Books."

"You read Harlequin novels?" Hermione asked, smiling as she moved around to face her teacher. She bumped into Severus with one bare leg, and absently stooped to scoop him up into her arms, cuddling him close.

Minerva drew in a breath to reply, then blinked and stared at the cat in her arms. Her hand slipped up to the base of her throat as she gave the cat a shocked look. "...Severus!"

Hermione stiffened, preparing to grab for the wand stuck through her curls, currently holding them up off her nape like an overgrown hairpin. In her arms, Severus tensed as well, ready to Apparate to a safe spot out in the garden, one he had already investigated for just such a purpose. But his former colleague didn't attack him. Physically, at least.

"Is this where you've been hiding, all this time? I thought you were dead!" Minerva harangued him, glaring at him through the lenses of her spectacles. "Why didn't you ever report back to me, you horrid man? The Dark Lord's been dead for a month, and I could only think you'd fallen right along with him!"

"Er...you know he's still on our side?" Hermione asked her mentor hesitantly.

"Of course, I do! I saw a Pensieve of Albus' memories shortly after his death, regarding the truth of Severus' allegiances," Minerva dismissed. "But I didn't dare discuss it with anyone until after the war ended, since things had progressed to the drastic point of him having to...to do what he did, in order to remain seemingly a part of the Dark Lord's forces. I couldn't hardly let such an extreme sacrifice go to waste, now could I?"

Hermione cuddled Severus closer. "But what about now? Are you going to help clear his name?"

"Of course, child! The current head of the Wizengamot, Priscilla Philliston, has already seen the Pensieve, and has quietly absolved Severus of all of his crimes."

Both Hermione and the cat in her arms blinked at that news. "But...why wasn't I told?" she demanded. "I didn't hear a word of this!"

"That's because, for one, it wasn't widely bruited about; that idiot, Scrimgeour, thought it would be 'bad for publicity'. If you ask me," she added darkly, "he just wants a convenient scapegoat to beat, since everyone thinks Severus is dead. For another, if you haven't noticed, my dear, you have been rustificating in this...well, this charming sprawl of a home you have, here."

"Thanks," Hermione returned distractedly. "It's actually my aunt's home; I'm house-sitting at the moment."

"A young lady living on her own with only two cats for company risked being called a spinster, back in my day," Minerva stated. She eyed the cat in the younger witch's arms, and sighed. "Stop huddling in her arms, Severus, and come back to your original form. Have you no proper greeting for me?"

"...He can't," Hermione confessed as Severus' tail twitched in irritation.

"What do you mean, he can't?" McGonagall repeated, glancing between the two of them.

"I mean...he cannot remember how to do it. We think he was hit by a Memory Charm at the moment of transformation. He literally could not remember anything about Animagi, or how to become one. We've done a little bit of studying since then, but...well, I thought I'd ask you how to be one, then teach him all over again on the sly so that he could transform back, you see."

Her former teacher rolled her eyes, drew her wand, and jabbed it at him. A flash of blue-white light startled both of them, making Hermione cry out and Severus flinch. A second flash of light forced him to tumble to the floor even as his limbs lengthened and straightened. Black fur flowed into black robes and black hair, receding into pallid skin. His feline muzzled parted in a hiss and ended in a human groan. Hermione quickly caught his reshaping arms, steadying him as he staggered on just two feet, after having lived for a month on four. Panting, he blinked, shook himself gingerly, adjusted the grip of his fingers on the wand in his hand, then straightened.

"...Thank you, Minerva," he panted, regaining his breath. Everything felt wrong, oddly squished, oversized, and dulled in nearly all of his senses. Colours were brighter, but that was the only recompense that he could sense. Straightening his shoulders a little more, he flicked his hair out of his face, and tucked his wand up his sleeve. "But I had hoped to wait to transform myself until I had re-learned the ability to attain that shape. You may have had my sins absolved quietly, but the rest of the wizarding world still sees me for what I am, a murdering bastard. Until the world knows the truth, I will have no choice but to hide!"

"Oh. Right...sorry, I didn't think about it, in that light. Look, I can always Transfigure you back, Severus," the Headmistress pointed out. "But as a cat, you weren't exactly capable of coherent communication with human beings. Believe me, I know."

Hermione folded her arms across her chest, since they felt rather empty without her Puss-in-Boots to hold, anymore. "Whereas I was looking forward to practicing to become an Animagus, myself."

"Oh, I'll still teach you," Minerva reassured her ex-pupil. "Both of you," she conceded at a look from her ex-colleague, his own arms folding across his chest. "But in the meantime, we need to formulate a way to get the public to hear the truth about your long years of sacrifice, Severus. It won't be easy, of course."

"Tell me about it," he groused.

"Oh, hush. If you haven't learned anything about optimism and enjoying life while stuck as a cat for the last month, then you obviously weren't paying attention! There's far too much to enjoy about being a cat to give it up that easily. Except for the taste of mice," she muttered, making a face and shuddering delicately. "And crickets. I never could stomach crickets. Never could swallow them, either. They always stuck, going down. There were days when I thoroughly wish I'd been a bird."

Wondering which would taste worse, mice as a cat or worms as some sort of bird, Hermione cleared her throat. "...Why don't we all go into the conservatory, and have a cup of tea or something, while we chat?"

"I'd rather not go near any windows at the moment," Severus countered. "Not while I'm in human form. The parlour will do; the drapes can be closed." Stepping from the front hall into the parlour a few feet away, he drew his wand and flicked it, wordlessly shutting the drapes. "Fetch us some iced tea, Miss Granger."

"'Miss Granger'?" she repeated, her brows rising. "If I have to fetch, then you have to wash up, Mister Snape. Actually, you owe me a lot of washing up, considering you've never once set or cleared a plate in all the time you've been here!" Turning on her heel, she flounced toward the kitchen.

Severus flushed, the moment he realized Minerva was watching their interaction with distinct amusement. Her mouth twitched. "I see the two of you have been getting along famously. But then, she clearly has a love for cats, doesn't she?"

"A cat, Minerva, is a distinctly separate entity from a man," Severus muttered. Not realizing until her smile widened that he'd inadvertently made an innuendo. One he suspected his former colleague would milk.

"So you have been indulging in your feline side. I'm very proud of you, Severus. I trust you have been letting her pet you?"

He gave her an affronted stare. "That's a rather indelicate thing to say!"

"Nonsense; you clearly haven't been touched enough, in your life. At least, not pleasantly. And there's nothing more pleasant than being petted and properly scratched, as a cat. Oh, don't make a face like that," she chided him. "Or it'll freeze like that. Which it nearly has done, already, given how many years you had to wear it like that.

"Now, we'll have a nice chat, a preliminary lesson in Animagi Transfiguration, and then I'll turn you back into a cat until our next lesson. So you can stay hidden all you like," she lightly mocked. "At least until tomorrow, when I'll be back. I'll be coming every day for the first two weeks, then three times a week thereafter. I don't think it should take you more than a week or two to regain what you've forgotten, and not much more than three or four weeks for her to get the hang of it.

"She's really quite brilliant, you know," Minerva added with studied casualness, moving over to an armchair to seat herself. Severus followed, not fooled in the least when she continued conversationally, "Very few witches of any age are as smart as young Miss Granger is. I'll bet she talked your ear off, starved for decent conversation in the midst of all this rustification. A pity you weren't able to communicate with her."

"Actually, we figured out two different ways to communicate. One was a bit cumbersome, and the other has a tendency to communicate too much, at times," he confessed, settling himself on the settee. "Otherwise...we have been getting along remarkably well, considering our history. As you said...she has a love for cats."

"I trust you'll treat her equally well, whenever you're in your human form?"

Severus was saved from answering by Hermione's return. Or so he thought. She smiled at the two of them as she set the tray down on the coffee table, handed out glasses of iced tea, and curled up on the sofa next to him. Within touching distance. Of course, it was a smallish settee, but not that small, surely.

"...So," Hermione stated as Severus sipped at his glass, grateful to be able to take a real, human-sized swallow. "Are you going to treat me well, now that you're in your human form?"

He froze for a moment, then finished swallowing. Lowering his glass, Severus considered her question carefully. "...I might. Are you going to treat me well?"

Afterward, Hermione would marvel at her daring. Afterward, she would wonder what imp of the perverse made her do it. But that was afterward. Considering his own words for a brief moment, she leaned in close, scritched her fingers under her chin, where she encountered the faintest scratchiness of his beard-stubble, and made him glance sharply at her.

"Haven't I always?"

It was a rather flirtatious thing to say, never mind to do. Both of them froze for a long moment. Minerva cleared her throat, sipping at her own iced tea. Her words gave them something else to focus on, allowing them to separate and focus on her instead of each other. "...The first thing an Animagus needs to be able to do is cast wordless magic. If I remember correctly, Miss Granger, you managed to master this difficult task before the rather abrupt end to your sixth year. So that part should not be a problem for you.

"The second thing is to master wandless magic. One cannot transform into an animal and back again and expect to retain their grasp on said wand, after all. It must be made as much a part of the Transfiguration as taking a wand with you during an Apparation...which is in and of itself a manifestation of wandless, wordless magic. If I remember correctly, you also passed your Apparition test quite readily, over a year ago. That gives us a good basis to begin with," she praised. "Now, there are some minor magics that are both wandless and wordless that I'd like both of you to practice until you get right, between today and tomorrow.

"We'll build up your abilities in both forms of magic, until you're ready to tackle the big one, then I'll guide you through the process when I feel that you're ready for your first attempt...so to speak, in Severus' case..."

...

Minerva concluded their first lesson with a pleased look for both of her former pupils, and Transfigured Severus back into the body of a cat. After Apparating outside and back to make sure it was the right spell, leaving him with what little magic he could wield in that shape, he had watched Hermione offering Minerva one of the spare guest rooms. To his deep relief...and frustration, since the book and tiles were elsewhere, leaving him mutely unable to express his own opinion...she had turned down the offer, citing that she preferred her own bed whenever possible, and had already shifted it from Hogwarts to her home somewhere on the outskirts of Inverness. Promising to be back tomorrow afternoon at the same time for the next lesson, she ordered them to continue practicing wandless, wordless magic, and Disapparated.

Severus expected Hermione to immediately begin that practice. Instead, she gave him an inscrutable look, scooped him up...she had a terrible habit of doing that, regardless of his dignity or current intentions...and took him with her back to the hammock. Adjusting herself in the rope net, she draped him along her torso and started stroking him, making him purr.

"You know, you really are nicer, as a cat," she observed, once he had stretched out a bit, his forepaws almost pressing against her chin. He opened his slitted eyes, giving her an irritated look. She smiled and rubbed behind one ear. "Don't look at me like that. You know you are. You've been nicer, since becoming a cat. I think, whatever happens, if you want to stay a cat, I'd be happy to keep you company."

A quirk of his brow was all the enquiry he needed to make; Hermione guessed his thought.

"And, um...if you want to have some company in your life...a friend, or whatever...when you're a man...I think I could do that, too. I'd, erm, be honored to be counted your friend."

He blinked at her, slowly and thoughtfully. Then closed his eyes and snuggled his head back onto his outstretched limbs. Only the tip of his tail moved, flicking in a slow, easy rhythm. Hermione fished her book out of the netting at her side, opened it to a spot back at the beginning of the smut-scene, and absently stroked him again as she read. So long as he didn't turn around and attempt to read the pages, with their graphic love-making sequence, she didn't mind reading a smutty romance novel in front of him. It wasn't as if he was interested in such things.

When he squirmed around on her chest, shifting onto his side and curling his neck a bit, she froze for a moment. He settled down again, resuming his purring. Figuring he was going back to sleep, and not trying to get a good look, she continued reading.

Hermione had forgotten she was dealing with a Slytherin. Having lulled her back into considering him as a cat rather than a man, he found himself wanting to know what her book was all about. Eyes slitted just enough to read, Severus absorbed the 'girly stuff' in the paperback. It was all aching breasts and gliding hands, making him think the heroine had forgotten the existence of such things as analgesics, and that the hero had coated his fingers in a Greasing Salve.

Its hero was also far too idiotic-sounding, spouting third-rate compliments only a Hufflepuff or a Gryffindor could have devised, as he groped his companion in what sounded like an amateur attempt at best of lovemaking...but the effect on Severus' living divan was undeniable. Once again, he could smell the perfume of rising desire rising from her skin. Reminding himself it would be crude to shove his muzzle into her crotch, he contented himself with reading the lurid scene and inhaling her perfume, and trying to decide if he could do better than that, as a lover...

Not that he'd had many opportunities to be a lover. Sarcastic, bitter, greasy-haired teachers who pretty much terrorized all potential future love-interests while they were still underage didn't have much in the way of dating opportunities. Of course, he could have gone for someone a little older than himself, but many of those remembered him from his student days, which meant there were no breaks to be found there, either. But he was fairly certain that, having indulged in his senses as a cat, learning to enjoy his hidden, hedonistic side, he could invoke it again in the presence of a woman. Preferably one who had her own knack for sensuality.

If scritchings and strokings were anything to go by, he was fairly certain Hermione would make a good partner for such things. That, and she was definitely reacting to the tripe in the book. Not that it was badly written, of course, just a little unrealistic. Not once did the author mention what happened to their shoes in the midst of all that disrobing...and as it was a Muggle book, no one could point to a wordlessly delivered Disrobing Charm as a possible 'save' for the continuity mistake. But as she turned the page, breathing a little deeper as the action in the novel grew more intense, Severus smelled how her arousal deepened with each successive paragraph.

It was a delicious scent, too. Between the gentle stroking of her fingers and the perfume of her body, he slipped into a half-dozing state of fantasy and imagining...

Those same fingers stroked down the muscles of his back; the scent of her desire perfumed the skin of his face...she tasted as delicious as she smelled, he was sure of it. He caressed her own body, licking her lips, nibbling on her throat, stroking the curves of her breasts, making her gasp softly, shudder delicately... He turned her over, rubbed his cheek against her spine, nipped at her nape as he thrust into her...

Severus jolted upright as soon as he realized he was physically aroused from that thought. Embarrassment had him scrambling off of her, leaping to the floor and racing out of the conservatory, seeking a place to hide. He collected his wits when he was halfway to the kitchen, forced himself to slow down, and trotted into the downstairs bath. A bit of pawing at the lever on the toilet tank got the contraption to flush. There, let her think I suddenly had to piddle. It's far more dignified than the truth...

Which was that she would be dismayed by the thought of her ex-professor perving over her.

...

Finally, he was gone! Hermione didn't know what had made him leave, nor did she care. She just quickly shoved her hand up into the ragged hem of her cutoff shorts, hooked aside the crotch of her knickers, and started stroking her aching flesh. On the second read-through, the lovemaking scene was simply too hot to ignore its side-effects on her body. Closing her eyes, she pictured the blond-haired, green-eyed, hunky hero of the book touching her instead. Or rather, tried to. What she got instead was the dark-eyed, dark-haired, brooding countenance of her 'cat' in her imagination...and a remarkably fast, hard-shuddering orgasm at the very thought. A silent one, punctuated only by a sharply indrawn breath, but an intense one all the same.

As soon as she got her senses back, Hermione quickly readjusted her clothing, then sucked on her fingers, hoping to get the scent off of them before he came back. He didn't, however; in the manner of the feline he resembled, he apparently had decided to go off and do something else. Casting a simple warning-spell on the doorway at about cat-height, she settled in to read more of her book. The warning would let her know if he came near the conservatory again, in case she ran across another smutty scene and needed another 'personal moment'.

...

The ringing of the doorbell startled the three in the parlour as they practiced wandless and wordless magic. Severus looked sharply at Hermione, who shrugged and looked at Minerva. Drawing her wand, Minerva flicked it at Severus, enchanting him back into his feline form. The doorbell rang again as his frame twisted and shrunk, followed by impatient pounding. And a familiar voice.

"Hermione! Open up; it's Harry, and Ron! We've come to see you!"

"Come on, Hermione!" Ron's voice joined the noise, as Harry knocked again. "Open up! You can't hole up like a spinster-maid forever!"

Crossing to the door, Hermione unlocked it, jerked it open, and scowled up at the tall redhead. "Ronald Weasley, you are a foot-in-mouth jerk!"

Severus snickered. Then maowed in surprise as Minerva picked him up. She joined Hermione by the front door, greeting the young wizards with a smile. "Hello, Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley."

"Professor McGonagall?" Harry eyed her, startled. "What are you doing here?"

"Visiting with Hermione, of course. And having a nice cuddle with her cat," the Headmistress added. The cat in her arms flattened his ears, but endured the tease.

Ron curled his lip at the black tom in passing as Hermione admitted them into her aunt's home. He glanced around more appreciatively at their surroundings. "Posh place. Muggle, is it?"

"Entirely. So no leaving behind any chocolate frog wrappers," Hermione quipped. "What brings you out to Nottinghamshire?"

"Well, we hadn't heard from you in a while," Harry told her. "You've practically become even more of a recluse than I am. I wanted to make sure you were alright."

She smiled at him, gesturing for them to take seats in the parlour. "I'm fine, Harry. I've just been relaxing and catching up on a lot of my reading."

"Why are the curtains drawn?" Ron asked, staring at the closed drapes.

"Er...it protects the furniture from fading," Hermione cobbled together, smiling. "And keeps the nosy-parker neighbors from looking in, while I'm practicing a bit of wand-waving."

Ron looked between her and Professor McGonagall. Comprehension dawned on his freckled face. "Oy...you're learning how to be an Animagus, aren't you?"

Hermione flushed, wishing he hadn't figured it out. Especially when Harry grinned and said, "I want to learn that, too!"

"Me, too!" Ron asserted, nudging Harry in the arm with his elbow.

"Gentleman, if you wish to learn to do so, you will have to schedule your own lessons," Minerva stated reprovingly. Her hand stroked the back of the black cat resting in her lap. "In fact, you are intruding upon Miss Granger's time. And you will have to bring your wordless and wandless magic up to standard before I would even let you attempt it...no arguments, Mr. Weasley! I still remember quite clearly your last grade in Transfiguration. You would have to work very hard to reach the level of performance that your friend has achieved."

Reaching over, Hermione plucked Severus from the older witch's lap, settling him on her own. "...I think we'll postpone the rest of today's lesson, Professor."

"Then I'll be by at the usual hour, next time. No slacking in your practices, between now and then," Minerva admonished her. She rose, and Harry and Ron rose perfunctorily with her, but she murmured that she could show herself out. The boys sat back down again after their ex-teacher cracked out of view, Disapparating.

Ron eyed Hermione, and the way she stroked the feline on her lap. "You still have that cat?"

"Yes, I still have this cat. And Crookshanks," she added. "He's somewhere in the conservatory, I think. Or maybe napping upstairs; he's getting on, in cat-years."

"So...are you going to show us around?" Harry asked.

She sighed in mock-exasperation, but smiled and shifted Severus to one side. "I suppose." Rising, she gestured at the room, which was lined with statuettes, bits of pottery, wall-hangings, and other primitive-looking odds and ends. "This is the parlour. Don't touch any of the artworks; they're worth a fortune. Aunt Eumenia is an archaeologist, and often ends up trading various collector's pieces with her colleagues around the world."

"Didn't you say she was in Burma, in that letter you sent?" Harry asked her, rising following her into the hall. "The one letter you sent?"

As Hermione blushed and apologized for her lack of communication, Ron leaned halfway out of his chair, whispering to the cat on the settee. "....You tore my hand open, that night, didn't you? I ought to neuter you!"

Severus hissed, scrambling to his feet. The freckled wizard jerked back in startlement. Hearing the noise, Hermione came back into the room.

"Ron, what are you doing to my cat?" she demanded.

He rose and backed away from the black tom, pointing at it. "That thing is insane! It just started hissing at me for no reason!"

"Puss isn't insane!" she shot back. "He's half-Kneazle, just like Crooks...who, I'll remind you, has already proven to be a very good judge of character! If he's hissing at you, it's because you've done, or were about to do, something untrustworthy."

At her pointed reminder of his past attempted action, he subsided, but the moment she turned back towards the hallway, he flipped his hand in a rude gesture at the cat.

Severus growled softly, watching the youngest male Weasley leave. Deciding to follow them, he leapt down from the couch, unwilling to trust the overgrown boy out of his personal sight. Not with a threat like that, and not when it also ran the risk of the idiot-boy ending up alone with his Hermione, at some point. At that thought, his trotting stride checked for a moment. Shaking it off, Severus hurried to catch up with them. Just because he wished for it, didn't make it true. On the other paw, nothing she had said or done had told him flat-out to not watch over her. Which meant he would do as he damned well pleased, unless and until she stated otherwise.

"So, did you read yesterday's paper?" Hermione asked Harry, aware of Severus trailing after them as she took her friends on a tour of the downstairs portions. "That lengthy article in the Daily Prophet, about how Professor Snape has been absolved by the Wizengamot of all crimes?"

"Absolved, my arse!" Ron snorted. "He probably stole some of the Malfoy funds to bribe his way out of trouble."

Hermione glanced at Harry, who was scowling. She huffed and added, "Did you also read the part where it was Professor Snape who was secretly feeding us all that information on where to find the Horcruxes, and the defenses Lord Voldemort had put in place around them?"

"So?" Harry asked belligerently.

"So, if he hadn't, we very probably wouldn't have won the war," she tartly reminded her friends.

"A month and a half away from civilization, and she's already lost her wits," Ron scoffed.

Turning to face them, Hermione glared at both of her friends. "You know, if the two of you are going to continue to cling to old grudges...if anyone in this house is going to cling to stupid old grudges in my presence...I'm going to throw you out! Grow up, Harry! The only reason why we won is because everyone played their part in getting us all to the final victory. You might've had a Prophecy insisting that only you could end the Dork Lord's reign of terror, but you certainly couldn't have done it on your own!...I wonder," she added abruptly, facing down Harry as he stared at her, flushing and paling alternately. "Are you so full of your own victory that you've even forgotten that Ronald and I helped you to win? You seem determined to forget all of the little people who helped made you the Boy Who Lived Twice!"

He flushed, dropping his gaze out of shame.

Hermione pressed her point. "Give credit where credit is due, Harry. Even if you don't like the person, give them credit for all the things they did right...and all the things that were done to make things right. Don't just point at any mistakes, no matter how glaring or piddling. You've made your own colossal mistakes along the way, so if you're going to point any fingers of blame, start by pointing them at yourself!"

"What blame?" Ron interjected, frowning at her.

"We all forgot that Professor Snape was an Order member. We could have asked him to go to Headquarters to check on Sirius' whereabouts. Or to get a message to the rest of the Order to help us look for him, rather than risk using Umbridge's Floo, and the disaster that followed. I'm as much to blame for that as anyone, since I forgot that possibility as well," she reminded her two friends. "But you don't see me laying all that blame at someone else's feet. I grew up, and learned how to take responsibility for my own share of the world's problems!"

Neither of them looked at her. Severus, however, found himself purring quietly. Partially for her spirited, if indirect, defence of him. Mostly for the way she seemed to be getting through the thick skulls of her two friends.

"Now, if you're going to disparage a man who had more courage and bollocks to carry through the most nightmarish tasks necessary to help win this war than the two of you possessed, combined and multiplied, then you can just leave, because I don't want to hear about it. If you're capable of keeping a civil tongue in your head, of reading that article and admitting how we all had a hand in winning the war, 'greasy gits' included, then you can stay and see the rest of the house," she told them. "It's your choice. Civility, and stay? Or rudeness, and leave?"

They didn't answer her, didn't even look at her...but they didn't leave, either. Severus sat on his haunches, his tail curling around his feet. Admiration for witch warmed him more than any patch of sunlight, at that moment. Nodding her head, somewhat satisfied for the moment, Hermione gestured at the next archway.

"...The kitchen is this way."

...

Minerva and Hermione both watched with awe as Severus finished unfurling his frame. As soon as he was upright, he touched his chest, his arms, his face...and grinned. Wrestling it down into a smirk, he faced both ladies and bowed. They immediately applauded him.

"Well done, Severus! Well done! I knew it would come back to you!" Minerva praised her colleague. "And with only a week's worth of practice!"

"Technically, it didn't," Severus stated, adjusting his coat cuffs. "It was you, pushing me back and forth through the transformation process on each visit, that helped."

Hermione glanced between them. "Perhaps...if we used that spell on me...?"

"It wouldn't do anything to you, Hermione; you haven't got an Animagus form, yet!" Minerva reminded her.

"But, if I'm concentrating on trying to become an Animagus at that moment," the younger witch countered. "Wouldn't it sort of be like priming the water-pump?"

Severus rubbed his chin, his arms folded across his chest. "...She may have a point, Minerva."

"I will remind you that your knowledge of Animagi has been Obliviated, Severus," the Headmistress retorted.

"My former knowledge, yes, but not my wits. What would happen if you cast the spell on an average witch, one who wasn't trying to transform?" Severus enquired.

"Why, nothing, of course!"

"Then where would be the harm in trying the spell on a witch who is trying to transform?" he offered logically.

Minerva looked doubtful for a moment, but drew her wand and glanced at her former student. "Is this something you're willing to risk, Hermione?"

"I think he's on to something. Besides," she added with a smile, "you can always cart me off to St. Mungo's if something goes wrong. It's not like I'm trying this on my own, after all."

"Yes, well, you've always had a level head on your young shoulders," Minerva praised. "Are you ready?"

Hermione composed herself for a moment, then nodded.

"On the count of three... One...two...three!"

She closed her eyes and concentrated on the spell as Minerva's wand swished through the air. Light impacted on her eyes...and then suddenly the world wobbled. Snapping her eyes open, she clung to her concentration on the Animagus spell as the world enlarged. The floor shot up to meet her, making her land on all fours with a startled thump. A giant in black stepped close, peering down at her. Hermione wondered what the heck she was, and if she had all the necessary bits with nothing freakily extraneous. Smiling, Severus stooped and scooped her up in his arms, startling her.

"Well, aren't you a pretty little puss?"

His touch was surprisingly gentle. Hermione was relieved to know she was a cat, since that was what she'd been aiming at, but she also very much wanted to know what she looked like. However, those long-fingered hands were cradling her to his chest, making her very aware of his masculine scent...and...and the bastard was petting her, turning her muscles to melted mush. He scratched gently behind and below one of her ears. The back of her throat, somewhere between her sinuses and her mouth, rumbled in a purrrrrrr of pure happiness. He had unbelievably sensual hands, so talented, so soothing, so...

"Put her down, Severus, before she starts to drool. Hermione, wake up and re-gather your dignity! You're a cat, for heaven's sake!" Minerva ordered her tartly, if not unkindly. "There will be plenty of time for pettings later. Gather your wits, and try to Apparate onto the sofa, there's a dear."

Disgruntled at being lowered to the floor, Hermione sighed...it was more a flicking of her ears and her tail, which felt really good, if unnerving to remember having had something similar back in her second year...and concentrated, willing herself to the settee cushions. A bang and she bounced lightly onto the cushions, having judged her entry-point a little high to be on the safe side.

"Excellent! Come back here, young lady, and we'll concentrate on restoring you to your natural shape. Remember," Minerva stated as Hermione jumped down and padded over, "it is just a reverse of the mental incantation, and a reverse of the mind-imagery, as I reverse the spell in order to help revert you to your natural form... Ready? Three...two...one!"

The world shook and shrunk around her as her body unfolded back onto bipedal feet. Hermione staggered a little, dizzy from the sudden shift in blood pressure. Hands caught her shoulders and steadied her, holding her until she could straighten on her own.

"Thank you, Severus."

He nodded, mouth curved up in an almost-smile, but didn't say anything as he released her and stepped back.

"Goodness. That was quite easy, wasn't it?" the former Transfigurations Professor observed, hand to her chest. "How exciting...Severus, I do believe you've hit on a genuine way to speed the process of learning how to be an Animagus!"

"I would caution you to remember that Miss Granger has always been precocious, when it comes to spellcasting," Severus returned. "I suggest instead that you take up Misters Potter and Weasley on their request to learn how to be Animagi and at the appropriate point in time, when they are ready, use the spell upon them to assist in the transformation process. Their powers are closer to average than hers, making them better test-subjects."

"I'll give that a try. Come...we'll try it again, but this time, I want you, Severus, to cast the two spells upon her," Minerva said. "And then we'll have it tried with Hermione casting the spells upon you, during the transformation process."

"I'd like to try it near a mirror, if you don't mind," Hermione stated. "I'd like to see what I look like, as a cat."

Tapping her wand on the back of the nearest armchair, Minerva Transfigured it into a cheval mirror. A tip of the mirror pointed it slightly towards the floor, ensuring that anyone cat-sized would have a good view of themselves. "On the count of three, Severus..."

Five seconds later, Hermione found herself staring at a pretty kitty with fluffy, mottle-striped fur. Most of her coat was a soft sort of beige and brown, with a little splotch of white to either side of her nose, more white on the tips of her paws and the feathers of her belly, and soft 'grease marks' in brown along her cheekbones. She flicked her duster-like tail, settled onto her haunches, and turned her head this way and that, admiring her reflection. Her eyes were a lovely shade of gold, many times lighter than their normal tawny brown. They looked rather pretty, she decided.

She wracked her brain to remember where she had seen such a broad-cheeked head, before. It came to her, after a moment: siberian longhair, that was it. She looked like a russian or a siberian longhair.

Happy...purring, in fact...she looked up at the two giants who had once been her teachers. Once again, Severus stooped and lifted her into his arms. This time, however, she could see the tan-and-brown blotch she made against the black of his overcoat. Squirming a little for comfort, she lounged indolently across one of his forearms, pleased with the way his other hand started stroking and petting her from scalp to rump. He even stroked onto her tail, tugging lightly on its tip. It felt remarkably good, like a brief stretch of her muscles...

"Now, now; you'll have plenty of time for that later. Severus, transform her back again. Hermione, I'll want you to cast the spell on him after you're human again. Once I'm satisfied the two of you can change each other back and forth successfully half a dozen times, and I know you can rescue each other if it becomes necessary, then I'll take my leave. I have some business I'll need to handle regarding the school, but after that, I'll come back, test the two of you on transforming yourselves without the spell, then march the two of you down to the Animagus Registry at the Ministry of Magic."

"Minerva, they use a Truth Stone on the applicants," Severus reminded her. "They'll ask me how long I've been an Animagus."

"Yes, but they won't be asking me, and you cannot remember anymore...remember?" she prompted him. "Just state for the record, 'To the absolute best of my recollection, this week was the very first week that I have been able to successfully transform myself into an Animagus cat and back into a man again,' and you'll pass the Truth Stoning test. Adding the bit about 'back again' makes it perfectly truthful, since you did turn yourself into a cat weeks ago, but haven't been able to change back again on your own until just now."

"Professor McGonagall," Hermione teased her former teacher. "You just bent the rules like a Slytherin! I'm proud of you."

Minerva blushed, while Severus surprised them both with a chuckle.

...

Confident they could transform each other, Minerva McGonagall took her leave an hour later. Hermione eyed her housemate. "Well. I think you should cook dinner, tonight."

He arched an eyebrow at her. "Me? You are the hostess, madam."

"Yes, and you've mooched off me long enough. Besides, a Potions Master should be able to rustle up something tastefully edible in a kitchen, shouldn't he?" she challenged him, flapping her hands at him to shoo him towards the kitchen.

He didn't shoo very well. Folding his arms across his chest, he didn't move from her aunt's living room. "It will not be so easy to trick me as that."

Looking him up and down, Hermione planted her hands on her hips and gave him a dismissive look. "Perhaps. And perhaps you're just afraid of doing real work around this house."

His dark eyes gleamed, but he didn't rise to the challenge.

Hermione tried a different tactic. "Besides, you've been getting all the pettings and the pamperings. It's my turn to be lavished with attention. You're going to help me turn into a cat, feed me tuna from your finger-tip, and scratch and pet me all I want, tonight."

Her bold declaration appealed to him more than it should have. Severus reminded himself that it was his responsibility to keep things platonic between them. He was not the sort of man to force his attentions onto any female...two-legged or four...if he could help it. Not when what he longed for was a woman to desire his attentions of her own free will. "...And if I don't agree?"

"Then I won't pet you!"

Severus regarded her for a long moment, before unfolding his arms. Such cruelty, in one so young? he thought with a touch of amusement. Perhaps you need to learn a lesson in just what you're threatening me with, Miss Granger...starting with a demonstration of just how much I can make you purr.

A slight bow, and he conceded, "As you wish; I shall cook our supper, feed you dainty tidbits, and stroke you from nose to tail-tip, all evening long. In three...two...one...!"

Hermione shrunk for the tenth time, that afternoon. And for the sixth time, found herself scooped up into his arms. Ohhh, yes, she thought with a purr as he kneaded her nape with his fingers, heading for the kitchen. Let the lovings begin...