A/N: I'm sick a bloody Padfoot at this point *hack/wheeze*

Beta Love: The Dragon and the Rose, Dutchgirl01

Sick As a — Something

Hermione was sick. She knew she was sick, but she didn't really understand how sick she was was until she was so feverish that five layers of blankets weren't helping the chills that wracked her body and everything time she coughed—

Cough!

Hermione squeaked miserably, her otter-self draped across the bed like a forgotten camisole. It wouldn't be so bad if—

Cough!

Hermione groaned, her body having changed into something she was not used to: a wolverine. Glorious. Now she could be cranky and sick and no one would know the difference.

Poppy had said that it was probably due to her Animagus magic reacting to her cold, but she had no idea if it was the disease itself or something else that was causing the multiple transformations.

She crawled out from underneath the quilts and duvet and let out a chain of coughs, shifting from wolverine to squirrel, to a ecosystem-displaced stingray, to a — something with scales and really, really big teeth. She was really not interested at all in crawling over to the mirror to find out exactly what she had become this time.

Hermione groaned. So much for teaching class. Merlin help them all if whatever this was happened to be contagious. She pulled herself up off the floor with a strange screeching sound that ended with a throaty kind of growl. Ugh, what the hell was she?

A dark shape moved out of the corner of her vision, and she attempted a whimper, but all it came out was a hissing and clicking sound.

"You should be in bed," Severus' familiar voice rumbled.

Hermione coughed again, changing from mystery reptile to a frog to an African hunting dog. She whined softly.

"I've never been so glad to not be an Animagus," the Potions master said, shaking his head in bemusement. He knelt down and unstopped a potion. Sniffing it first, he held it out for her.

She lapped at the end of the bottle, feeling the strange elixir ooze down her throat and give her sweet blessed relief. She had a feeling she'd still cough, but at least she wouldn't be coughing quite as often.

"Come on, back to bed," Severus admonished sternly.

Hermione hung her head, tucking her tail between her legs. Severus patted the bed, and she struggled up and lay down her head tucked on her favourite pillow.

Cough.

Severus rubbed under her chin and up towards the back of her head. "Well, at least you don't smell like the real animal," he said with an amused chuckle. "From what I've been told, sloths are normally algae colonies and harbingers of beetles."

Hermione rolled her eyes at him, too tired to truly make an effort and offer much in the way of meaningful body language.

Cough.

Hermione squeaked miserably.

Severus lay down on the other side of the bed and pulled her close, cuddling her against his chest. "I'll confess that as a young boy I always wanted a pet chinchilla."

Hermione snuggled into him with a resigned squeak.

Severus soothed her head and held her close. "You're going to survive his, love," he whispered. "May not feel like it right now, but you will."

Hermione burrowed into his chest and squeak-sighed.

"You survived our wedding with Weasley tipping over the cake thinking I was going to poison all of our guests with it," Severus whispered into her fluffy fur. "This will seem like nothing— well, to be fair, he survived the wedding. Not for a lack of effort on my part."

He pulled over a glass of water and held it for her to lap. After she was through, he placed it back on the bedside table.

She coughed again, but this time she ended up back human. She let out a sudden flurry of sneezes, but her form stayed human.

"There now, see?" Severus grunted. "Getting better already."

Hermione said nothing more, but she snuggled into her husband with a genuine sigh of relief. Her eyes closed, and Severus' did shortly after, happy to be engaging in non-cough interrupted sleep.

Neither of them noticed the spectacled beetle that she had unknowingly sneezed on. The beetle hastily skittered back off of the bed linens, the better to make a quick getaway.


Plague-ridden War-heroine Infecting Your Children At Hogwarts!

Professor Hermione Granger, who continues to claim that she is married to that infamous vampiric dungeon-bat of a man, Severus Snape, is actually cooking up even more devious ways to endanger all of our lives!

What sort of evil things is Snape concocting in order to appease his war-heroine wife-under-duress? Disease— only one out of our worst nightmares. Imagine having a sickness that caused you to transform into an equally sick random animal. What kind of sick, twisted, evil minions of Darkness would purposefully create and then inflict their manufactured diseases upon each other?

What if this is Hermione Granger's way of insuring that the "right" people get sick? Are she and Snape busy devising a biological weapon to be unleashed on their enemies or the entire wizarding public?

Why would they do such a horrific thing to a world and a people already battered and devastated by two brutal Wizarding Wars in rapid succession?

Everyone knows that animals are notorious carriers of disease! Just remember the plague! What if fleas should infest these sick animals and then bite our children? What if we see a resurgence of Magistan's Pervasive Pustule Plague? What if the Snapes are, even now, devising an even greater horror to inflict upon innocent magical families all across our fair country?

I urge you, dear readers. Write to Hogwarts and Hogwarts' Board of Governors to demand that they remove these two evil purveyors of sickness, these mad scientists masquerading as trusted teachers of our precious children.


Interdepartmental Memo:

Attention All Animagi,

Due to the rapid spread of the Animagi-flu that is afflicting our nation, we recommend taking a leave of absence until the frequent coughing ends, the sneezes start and the fever breaks. Please do not come to work with a fever, as you will still be contagious, and the last thing we need right now is even more people infected.

Thanks to Professor Severus Snape, we have been given a cough syrup recipe that will reduce the amount of transformative coughs, but it is not an actual cure. Please owl the Department of Medicinals to obtain a bottle. There is no charge for this, as we truly care about your health!

The Department of Obnoxious Magical Disease Control recommends that if you do have this flu to arrange for the company of a non-Animagus or at least someone who has had the disease in the case one of your transformations is aquatic and you might become stuck in the form of a cetacean, fish, or other water-dependant creature until your next cough.

The disease seems to taper off after seven to ten days

As all of you are registered, your leave from work will be excused. However, if you have family members who are currently studying to become one, please inform the Animagus Registry in the case they should also become sick and must take leave or need to request the cough syrup. So far, it doesn't seem like it is transmittable to non-Animagi, and we are hoping it stays that way.

We have noticed a recent trend in the changes. Mammal Animagi tend to shift forms into other mammals, birds to birds, etc. Our aquatic Animagus are at the highest risk of displacement, but there have been some cases of land mammals suddenly becoming whales. Do be careful and stay safe, Animagi!

As a side note, for the love of Merlin, regardless of species, please do not visit any Muggle areas until you have a clean bill of health. We've already had to nineteen incidents requiring an Obliviate in which a sick Animagus transformed in front of Muggle witnesses. Stay home, get some rest, and we'll see you back in two weeks.

Stephan Brightpaw

Office of Animagus Registry


Rita was having the best weekend ever. She'd gotten a big promotion and a hefty raise after her article, and she was taking her bonus galleons to spend the entire week at the exclusive Luxes Magiques Resort and Spa. Their natural hot springs were supposed to be truly, well, magical and were reputed to do the most wonderful things for your skin and hair. The main entryway, named La Boulangerie, had traditional hand-crafted breads baked in an ancient stone hearth that people would order years in advance and only for the most special of occasions. She planned on splurging there after she finished living a week of the life she truly deserved.

She planned to do a little more spying at Hogwarts, setting up that little bint living her disgustingly happy life with that ugly gargoyle of a man. Of all the people Hermione Granger was reputed to have slept with, and Rita was convinced she had broken the hearts of every wizard she had ever entrapped via love potion— who would ever fall for someone like her? She was so ordinary and plain. Psh.

No, Rita would have Granger, and she refused to see her marriage as anything but a farce, fleeing the country in shame. After she had forced her to write "the truth" — no, Rita wanted Granger to truly suffer. While a part of her conscience had tingled slightly, telling her that Hermione had never once brought up her illegal Animagus status, even after they had started to crack down on enforcement due to a number of Animagi being caught attempting to bribe officials with hefty sacks of galleons. Rita would never be so banal as to bribe someone with money. Information, well, she had found that had proved far more lucrative and a logical thing to do when you could sneak into virtually anywhere and entirely unseen.

Rita was no slouch in obtaining information. She knew how to get into Hogwarts regularly. All she had to do was sneak onto a student's collar while they were at Hogsmeade and they would take her right back to Hogwarts and right through all of those extensive wards. Amateurs.

Sadly, ever since that stuffy old cat Animagus had made Headmistress, tasty news from Hogwarts had been less than satisfactory. She had decided to focus on the many affairs of Arthur Weasley instead. That had provided wonderful entertainment for over an year. Then, when that had run dry, she had focused on bringing out into light Ronald Weasley and his torrid love-affair with Blaise Zabini and blamed Granger for it, accusing the witch of being a frigid ice-queen in bed. That had been wonderful.

Granger made the very best target. That hadn't changed since she had been a teenager. Her high and lofty scruples kept her from reporting her to the Registry? Rita would use that to her advantage, over and over again. And while Granger was off crying in some hovel, hiding from the world, Rita would be living in the lap of pure luxury proving once and for all that she was the better witch.


[Unprecedented Free Issue of the Daily Prophet]

One month forgiveness is being given for all unregistered Animagi! This is an entirely penalty-free opportunity for these persons to register their forms, no questions asked, in surprise response to the Animagi-flu!

If you're an Animagus and you haven't yet registered, now is the time to march, floo, Apparate, or manifest yourself at the Animagus Registry office. All registered Animagi will receive free testing and care at St Mungo's for the rapidly spreading Animagi-flu as well as work forgiveness for the time you are were/are out. There has never a better reason to come and register.

Once this time has been passed, any and all unregistered Animagi will be in danger of arrest and a risk of serving time due to being unsafe disease vectors who are contributing to the spread of this particular disease.

Distance registration is also being accepted via owl. If you have friends who you know are unregistered, please give them a registry form and have them owl it in. For just this month registration is absolutely free and forgiven.

[Registration Form for Owl Post follows]


Interdepartmental Memo

To: Aurors, all ranks

From: Harry Potter

Due to a rising in panic in Muggle Areas, thanks to unregistered Animagi with the Animagi-flu, our Obliviators have been and are still working overtime. All incidents of unregistered Animagi are now to be dealt with without remorse. It's been a week since the no-questions-asked registry time closed, and our Minister for Magic has had to explain to the Prime Minister why so many mass-hallucinations have been occurring throughout Britain.

The incubation time from exposure, infection, and manifestation appears to be anywhere between 30-90 days. You can't tell me that any Animagus in Britain "doesn't know" that they might be exposed. Mungo's has the quick test for free available to all registered Animagi, and there is absolutely no excuse for this shite.

If you find an unregistered Animagus, you are to arrest them immediately. I don't care if they look like a blue whale or a Siberian tiger. Subdue them and bring them in, incapacitate any Muggles in the area and transport them to a common location that doesn't stir up even more panic, and call in the Obliviators immediately. They are working overtime. So we are also working overtime.

Word from the Wizengamot is unregistered Animagi will receive five years in Azkaban for every year they have been unregistered. If you are caught transforming ANYWHERE with the disease and are not registered, an I don't care if you see them turning into a pigeon while you are hanging your socks on the laundry line. The public warnings were sent out so there are no excuses this time. We have been more than accommodating in permitting new Animagus registrations without questions for the past month.

Time is up.

P.S. Okay folks, if your grandmother is living alone in a tree house in the middle of BFE or living alone on the coast of BFEr, get the woman a registration form and have her sign it as soon as she has hands again. We're not completely heartless here. Merlin knows the registry didn't even exist when our elders were young. I don't want sad tales of Aurors assaulting bewildered grannies and grandpas and dragging them away to Azkaban hitting the Prophet. Please use some discretion, folks.


Hermione poked her nose out from under the duvet and yawn-squeaked, whiskers twitching. She groomed herself with her front paws, ruffling her fur and then shook herself from head-to-toe as she emitted a chain of squeaks that resembled the dragging of a balloon across a sweater.

A pale, white hand emerged from under the duvet and dragged the sleepy otter back under the covers with a started squeak.

Hermione burst out of the covers, giggling, sending the duvet flying as a disgruntled Severus eyed her with a cross between amusement and annoyance that the bedclothes had left the confines of the bed itself without his express permission.

"Hn," he said, engaging in his typical early morning excursion in fluid speech and impressive command of the English language.

Tea appeared shortly after on a small breakfast tray, and Hermione plunked a bowl of his favourite blueberries in front of him. She leaned down and kissed his nose. "Thank you for taking care of me while I was sick, Severus."

The Potions master raised a brow. "It would hardly be fitting for me not to take care of my afflicted wife."

Hermione smiled at him. "I still appreciate it. I'm sure I was a pain in the arse."

"You, unlike most of my classes, are perfectly sufferable," he grunted, sipping his tea. He looked around as if a blueberry bandit was going to jump out of the closet before devouring the whole bowl with all due haste.

Hermione smiled at him, her eyes sparkling. She lifted her head as a rustling alerted her to an owl arrival. "Do you ever wonder how owls get into our quarters when there are no windows or open doors?"

Severus shrugged. "They are like house-elves. Asking questions on how they do things makes the answer even more elusive."

Hermione grinned, taking the letter off the owl and passing him an owl-nut from the nearby bowl. The owl hooted gratefully and promptly tore into it. Hermione plunked herself down next to Severus and began to read it aloud.


Dear Hermione,

I hope you are feeling better by now. I just heard from Kingsley that you were sick too. Seems like just about every Animagus around has got this odd transformative coughing flu. Please thank Professor Snape for sending the recipe for the cough syrup to our potions department. The entire Animagus Registry Office was full of— well, animals. Honestly, the place looked like a Muggle zoo. Smelled like one too. Fortunately, I wasn't one of the unlucky sods who got stuck with the job of cleaning up the resultant mess. You might enjoy hearing that Ron was, though. I know you two haven't exactly been best of friends since you caught him with Blaise Zabini, of all people, but I think it's safe to say that none of us saw that one coming. Ginny says she set the wards on the family floo to reroute him to someplace called San Francisco? Apparently, there is special museum exhibit going on there with samples of every known spider species in the world that isn't currently endangered. There just happens to be a working one-way floo in the museum, which happens to be located right in the middle of the spider exhibit room, for the use of their magical employees and guests. And the only floo out is supposedly located somewhere in the rather extensive basement of the museum. How does she even know about stuff like this?

Witches are bloody scary, Hermione. How did I somehow not see this before? You really should have warned me!

I digress. I really do hope you're feeling better, Hermione. You should know, people here at the ministry are just shaking their heads at the Prophet encouraging Rita Skeeter and her usual paranoid rumor-mongering. I also hope you haven't been getting harassed by the equally paranoid gossip-hungry nutters who comprise the bulk of her readership. I do wonder, though. Some of the statements in her article seemed to suggest that she's been sneaking around in her highly-illegal and unregistered form again. If she got close to you, Hermione… she just might be suffering from some seriously embarrassing effects about now.

Justice may not always be swift, but it might prove to be extremely satisfying, ay?

Ginny says to come over for dinner this Friday after we all get off work. She's making her special chicken parmesan with pasta and garlic bread. I can hardly wait, and I know it's one of your favorites too. By the way, she said the kiddos will be happily turning Molly's domain upside down for the entire weekend, so you don't have to worry about wearing flame-retardant robes this time. She really is sorry about that. Of all the accidental magics our children— Kids, right?

All the best,

Harry


"I find it odd how disgruntled Mrs Potter is over the situation with her brother," Severus commented. "It wasn't as if she was the one who found the two together."

Hermione shook her head. "It was the principle of the thing, really. She was highly offended that he didn't say something sooner to the family, so they ended spending Merlin only knows how many years trying to set us up together."

Severus frowned. "So, she not angry at him for cheating on you. She is angry at him for not telling her he preferred to bat for the same team?"

Hermione laughed. "No, she was plenty mad there too. I think it was because he had her all worked up helping him pick out rings and all that— never once realising it wasn't for me."

Severus shook his head. "I never have understood how that boy's head works, if one could even say it was ever functional in the first place."

"Severus," Hermione scoffed.

He gave her a fine-lined arched eyebrow.

Hermione leaned against his shoulder and then slid down to lay her head into his lap with a soft thud.

Severus rubbed her scalp with his fingers, smiling as she made happy sounds of approval.

"You win," she sighed. "Whatever you say."

Severus' mouth curved upward slightly. "I say we give all of our detentions to Argus and so we can finally use those gift certificates to the hotsprings Mrs Potter gave us to keep us from murdering her children."

"Aww, Severus," Hermione purred. "You're such a romantic."

He pressed a kiss to her head. "I can be, when properly motivated."


Hermione glided by Severus, her back paws guiding her along as she bobbed happily in the hot springs. Severus leaned back against the gradual incline of the pool's wall. The water burbled where it the natural spring fed it, but magic had terraformed the pools so there were warm waterfalls, copious amounts of steam, and multiple private bathing pools. It was perfect for relaxation, regardless of species, and Hermione was soaking it all in as an otter, squeaking gleefully as she played in the gentle waves created by the influx of perfectly heated water.

Hermione bumped into him, squeaking imperiously at him, and Severus looked down, wondering if she had gotten caught in something. She moved her head and pointed with her rear paws.

He followed her gesture and saw a very familiar combination of pale skin and blonde hair peeking out from a wrapped towel. The private pools were protected by one-way glass, but they had a perfect view of the adjoining hallway in case something should happen they that needed to know of. The lady at the main desk had said nothing of that nature had happened in years— the only notable exception being when a group wedding party had gone from relaxation to drunk and disorderly and tried to launch the Jolly Roger in the pools to search for treasure. The witch had assured them that there were no wedding parties booked that weekend, so the chances of something that bizarre happening was particularly low.

"Of all the places to be and find her here," Severus muttered.

Hermione squeaked out something that sounded surprisingly violent— impressive for an otter.

"There, now, my Beloved Lady of Squeak," Severus crooned, pulling over a floating tray that had tea and what looked like a fried gourd-squash and meat with a light sauce. "She can't see us. We might as well enjoy our time here in spite of her."

Hermione immediate perked and reassumed a form with hands.

"My mum used to make this in a stir-fry," she confessed. "It's opo. Little bit of meat of some sort, oil, garlic, ginger, a splash of fish sauce, pepper— oh! And soy sauce, because she really loved soy sauce on everything. Dad used to complain she had too many asian clients. It was corrupting her."

"Sounds like a tasty form of corruption," Severus replied, thoroughly enjoying his food. "If it was anything like this. What haven't you ever made it?"

Hermione flushed. "I wasn't sure you'd like it."

Severus gave her a look. "How would you know if you don't let me try it?"

Hermione looked away, embarrassed. "I guess— you always struck me as the meat and potato sort because when I watch you eat that is what you choose."

Severus put his fingers under Hermione's chin and stared her in the eyes. "I will never be so violently opposed to try new things than you need to feel like you cannot suggest new things, Hermione. Well, except barbequed bats and surströmming. I would probably balk a little at haring met uitjes, hakarl, lutefisk because anything that requires lye to make it edible is not edible, casu marzu because I'm sorry, anything that launches larvae at you when you try to eat it is not remotely appetizing— tuna eyeballs are also a no because I refuse to eat anything that is staring at me, and I'm probably going turn down Norwegian sheep's head and grilled spiders. Other than that, Hermione, by all means, feel free to share with me new dishes."

Hermione smiled at him. "Ever wonder what caused someone to say 'wow, tuna eyeball, looks tasty'?"

"Starvation can make a person willing to eat a great many things, Hermione," Severus replied, "but we are not starving, and I would like to think I am a good enough provider that such things will never be an issue."

Hermione's expression softened. "You've always been there for me, Severus," she said warmly, "every time I've needed you and even those times I didn't think I did— well, except that one time."

"Hn?" Severus said, eyebrow raising. "What time?"

Hermione slid her eyes to the side.

"Madam Snape?" Severus rumbled, leaning down over her face, pressing his aquiline nose against hers.

Hermione mumbled something incoherently.

Severus attacked her mouth with a kiss, causing Hermione to throw her arms around his neck and pull him half into the water. She gave a otter-like squeak of joy, latching onto his neck.

Severus narrowed her eyes. "Wife, you have manipulated me."

Hermione looked up at him hopefully. "Yes?"

He pressed her against the smooth curve of the hot springs with a low growl. He grasped the soft curve of her neck with his teeth. "I fear I must— manipulate you right back."

Hermione locked eyes with him. "Please do."

As Severus descended upon his wife, Hermione gave a happy squeak and the world around them seemed far less important and soon faded away altogether.


It wasn't for another hour or so that the pair finally dragged themselves out of the warm water and began to towel each other off. Severus paused in his toweling, staring off past the one-way windows to where the peaceful corridor should have been.

'Should have been' being the key words—

A crowd of screaming people went one way.

An— acromantula was fleeing down the hallway with what could have been a look of pure terror about it, had he any indication at all of what a panicked, terrified spider might look like. Fearful, angry wizards and witches were flinging spells at the fleeing arachnid. Jets of red, green and every colour between were pinging off walls, knocking over lanterns, and destroying rock gardens, information signs, and chairs.

Severus blinked.

Hermione, too, seemed drawn to watch the ongoing train wreck, pausing only to pull the towel more tightly around herself as she observed the scene with frank astonishment.

The acromantula jerked and suddenly became the largest hissing cockroach that Severus had ever seen. More screaming, wand pulling, and spellfire caused an even greater commotion around the desperately fleeing insect. If anything, it was far, far worse than from the acromantula alone.

The cockroach soon became something small and yellow, and soon after that became a rather striking orange and black butterfly.

SMACK!

The angry mob of adults came skidding to a halt as someone's happy toddler waddled out from one of the pools and smacked her hands together over the colorful orange and black butterfly.

"Severus?" Hermione interjected.

"Hn?"

"Remind me to thank Ginny for the gift certificate, aye?" she suggested.

Severus' mouth curved into a cruel smile. "Who knew this place would have both relaxation and entertainment?"


Unregistered Animagus of Untold Years Found Guilty of Spying, Bribery, Slander, Lies, and Trespass

Rita Skeeter, former reporter for the Daily Prophet, has been found guilty by the Wizengamot for not only being an unregistered Animagus for the last two decades or more, but also guilty of multiple counts of spying while using her unregistered beetle form, bribery of Ministry officials, slander, lies, and wanton trespass of areas ranging from the Ministry itself to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

The official list of affected people has not been released, but said people are being sent an official notice of the court date as they may be called upon to testify in front of the Wizengamot. The list at last count, is said to be in the thousands (at current count) and include dignitaries from multiple nations outside of Britain.

Rita was apprehended while attending a spa treatment at Luxes Magiques Resort and Spa. She had booked a week there in celebration of her most recent promotion, yet halfway through the week, she succumbed to the Animagus-flu and turned into a giant Acromantula. Terrified patrons and angry staff chased Ms Skeeter down the halls. Ironically, her coughs eventually transformed her into a butterfly, which was then captured in hand by four-year-old Hiple Obcilloso, who was enjoying a calm evening at the hot springs with her parents.

Due to the free registration and forgiveness period being over by well over a month, Skeeter is facing 5 years in Azkaban for every year she remained unregistered.

"There is absolutely no excuse for not being registered," Stephan Brightpaw of the Office of Animagus Registry told us. "We are here to help protect the talented witches and wizards who focused on this most challenging aspect of transfiguration magic. Our wellness checks during this flu outbreak saved 15 lives across Britain. We are not the enemy. The enemy is the person who uses their gift selfishly with the intent of causing harm to others. Believe me, if you are like Chelsea Esenbriar, helping rescue narwhal pods from attack by invasive orcas, being a registered Animagus does not cramp your style in the slightest. This Skeeter woman — she is a disgrace to Animagi everywhere. She is a truly horrible human being, but she is a rather extreme exception to the rule. As for the rest, we will always be the first to defend the majority of legal, registered Animagi over— whatever in Merlin's pantaloons she is."


[Meanwhile, back at the Dungeon-Bat Cave]

"What do you think it is, Severus?"

"A box."

"Don't be petulant, Severus."

"A mystery box," he restated unhelpfully.

"Severus," Hermione laughed, leaning to kiss his nose from over his shoulder. "Whatever am I going to do with you?"

He gave her an arched eyebrow.

Hermione blushed and rushed over to open the box. "It has an owlpost stamp from Greece! Do you think it has anything to do with the cough syrup recipe you sent them to help with their bout Animagus-flu?"

"Quite probably," Severus said with a sniff. "Apparently Rita was there spying on one of their top officials and infected half of the Auror staff there. They apparently work in teams over in Greece. Kingsley said he was looking into doing the same here, once they finally get the disease under control."

"Sounds like a good plan," Hermione agreed. She fussed with the twine on the box and pulled off the parchment that was wedged under it. "A gift for our most treasured family for assisting us with a truly unpleasant situation. As your gift to us is priceless, so, too, is what we are sending. May he serve you well."

"He?" Severus said immediately, suspicious.

Three heads popped out of the box, giving a triplet bark. A blacker than black cerberus pup stared up at Hermione with wide eyes.

Hermione looked back at him. Then, like a jolt of electricity, Hermione's eyes widened and she scooped the pup up. "You're so cute!" she cooed, embracing the pup.

The pup licked her chin three times, and Hermione was instantly taken with their newest acquisition. There was simply no going back. She looked at Severus with such hope and adoration that he couldn't even scowl properly in disapproval.

Fwoop!

A squeaky otter went tearing out the portal door, a three-headed pup scrambling to catch up with her.

Severus flipped the page of the book he was reading. "Five points from Gryffindor for leaving our front door open!" he muttered.

But even in the dark of the room, the small quirk of his lips curved into a true smile.

-=-FIN.-=-