Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.
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As her words sunk in, Harry reached out and grabbed her, spinning the sister of his heart around in exuberant celebration. "You've done it? Really? That's amazing Hermione!"
Ron looked at her with a proud gleam in his eyes, before spoiling the tender moment with a cheeky smile. "We should give you a name, you know, like the Marauders did."
Hermione huffed. "Really, boys! There is absolutely no need for my animagus form to have a name."
Ron flicked his eyes in the direction of their bespectacled best friend and Hermione was overwhelmed with the sensation of lost cause. The utterly hopeful, disgustingly beseeching puppy dog eyes that were being levelled at her made refusal impossible. Of course, he would want to honour his father, godfather and honorary uncle. But why did it have to be at her expense…
Reluctantly, she rolled her eyes in assent. She had been nervous enough to show them her form without the promise of an embarrassing nickname hanging over her.
Not that she disliked her form. In fact, she was utterly comfortable with it. It truly felt as if she was finally able to express a part of her soul that she had previously not even acknowledged the existence of. However, if she thought her hair was wild and untameable on her human head… needless to say, her fur was not what anyone in their right mind would describe as sleek.
"Come on, Hermione. We can't give you a name until we see your form. I still can't believe you have kept it a secret all this time!"
Ignoring Ron's impatience, the young animagus focused on the magic within her and in an instant had shrunk down into her second body. She looked up imperiously at her two best friends in the way that only a cat can truly manage.
What she did not expect was the flushed and slightly constipated expression on Harry's face, nor the way that he and Ron were making a deliberate effort to avoid eye contact with each other. All attempts at holding back were lost when the ginger wizard let out an almighty snort of laughter, setting both boys off.
Hermione changed back and levelled her giggling former friends with a glare. It didn't do much to sober them up and she fought back that old, familiar feeling that had been a constant companion throughout her years of being bullied at primary school. With stubborn fury she fought back the prickles of tears and pivoted violently away from the boys, heading in the direction of the door.
Harry realised with a sinking feeling of dread that they had truly hurt the witch's feelings and all mirth left him. Before she could storm out of the room, he called "Hermione, wait!"
The furious witch turned back to him, eyes shining with unshed tears. "Why should I?" she spat. "I know I make an ugly cat, but that is no reason for my best friend to mock me so cruelly."
Harry stared blankly at her. His utterly blank, dumbfounded expression lent sincerity to his words as he tried to comfort her. "Hermione, I'm sorry. Really. We didn't mean to hurt your feelings. You actually make an adorable cat."
Ron nodded vigorously in agreement with this statement but held his tongue, knowing that Harry was far less likely to put his foot in his mouth and upset the scary genius.
"Honestly, we weren't laughing at your appearance. Or, at least we were, a bit, but it has nothing to do with your overabundant fur. It's just, well…" he looked desperately at Ron, obviously unsure of how to get his meaning across, "… what I mean to say is, you know what some people say about pets looking like their owners…"
The youngest Weasley couldn't hold back any longer. "What he's trying to say is that we have a marauder name for you, Mrs Crookshanks!"
