First HP fic - I suddenly had the perfect idea and came up with this. Read and REVIEW please!

Chapter One

Cattusifors

Hermione Granger was bent over her desk, furiously scribbling something on the piece of parchment in front of her. On either side rose mounds of paper, thick leather bound books, and copies of the Daily Prophet, all of which had accumulated there over the past month.

She didn't dare look up to gaze out the small window at the shadowy front yard of the Burrow. The sun had gone down long ago, but the summer heat still lingered, filling Hermione's lungs and making her feel even more sleepy than she needed to. In the soft golden light from the desk lamp, she could see Crookshanks curled up on her bed, his head under his ginger paw, napping peacefully. A strong feeling of envy washed over her.

A rapping sound came from the door across the small bedroom. "Hermione," she heard Mrs. Weasley say, "come down for dinner now."

"Just… just a minute," she called. She ran her hands through her bushy hair, which was much frizzier than it usually was. She hastily tried to finish the paper and ended up splashing ink over it. "Oh, damn…"

As she took her wand and cleaned the ink with a charm, she heard someone walking by her door, stepping lightly and humming. Whoever it was stopped and sneezed.

"Been doing that a lot, haven't you, Fleur?" the muffled voice of Bill said. "Are you coming down with something?"

"No, no," Fleur said. "Actually, I believe it iz zat 'orrible cat of 'ermione's…"

Hermione flinched. She'd been listening to her complaining about Crookshanks to everyone in the house for a long time now, and she couldn't stand it. If she was so allergic to cats, why didn't she go look for a good spell for it or something?

Hermione sighed and continued writing on the ink blotch-free parchment. She'd come to stay at the Weasleys for a while a little more than a month ago. Three years ago when she had graduat-ed from Hogwarts, she wasn't sure what to do for a job. With the war with Voldemort still in full swing, job opportunities were not as they had been before. Harry and Ron had gone directly to the Order of the Phoenix, and so she followed along with them and ended up working in the International Magical Office of Law at the Ministry, where she could spy on Ministry activity for the Order.

For a while she had been doing fine, she could support herself and live on her own in London, then the Ministry had gotten into quite a bit of trouble… They'd arrested several people accused of being Death Eaters who murdered several wizards and witches one night in late March, but they turned out to be innocent as the real Death Eaters committed another massacre that was especially difficult to hide from the Muggles. This was not the first mistake they'd made. People had been irritated with the Ministry for a very long time, but this was the catalyst for what lots of them had thought would happen for a long time. Many employees had quit their jobs soon after and the result was disastrous for the others who had stayed.

Hermione's pay had slumped considerably, and she was forced to move in with the Weasleys. Things would probably not be getting better at the Ministry for a long time, so she was going to be there for quite a while…

"Hermione!" she heard Mrs. Weasley say again. "Your food is getting cold."

"Yes, I know, I'll be down in just a second…" She paused in her writing, biting her lip as she thought. "Oh, what was that jinx that they were talking about making illegal…"

She grabbed a book from the terribly messy pile next to her and flipped through it quickly. The rustle of pages roused Crookshanks from his sleep and the cat raised his head groggily.

"Okay… I think that's it…" Hermione muttered, stopping at a page. "I don't really see why it would be illegal…"

She raised her wand up and tapped it on the side of her face thoughtfully.

"Hm… it's a very interesting spell, though… cattusifors, is it?"

There was a sudden flash of red, Crookshanks hissed, and Hermione fell off her chair. She winced as she landed on the wooden floorboards. "Oh, how could I do that? I must be tired, I just cast the spell on my own self… that was so stupid..."

She groaned and looked up at Crookshanks, who was staring at her, and then at her wand, which had landed on the seat of the chair. It was rolling back and forth, a few scarlet sparks still fizzing from the tip. Hermione noticed it looked a bit farther up than usual.

"Wait…" Hermione said to herself. "Oh no, that jinx, it…"

"Hermione, now really!" Mrs. Weasley yelled from outside. "What are you doing in there?"

"Uh… uh…" Hermione started, but the door had swung open before she could form real words, and there was Mrs. Weasley, glancing around the door at the desk where Hermione's wand had taken her place, now silent and with no signs of shooting sparks.

"Strange," Mrs. Weasley said. "I must have missed her going downstairs…"

"But I'm right here!" Hermione said, but the door shut before she'd even finished her sentence. Crookshanks meowed questioningly to her.

"Of course," she said. "She wouldn't hear me talking, she'd only hear what she thought was Crookshanks, if the spell worked…"

She went over to a long mirror on the wall, which reached down to the floor. Everything looked higher up than it had earlier. And, when she looked, she did not see a twenty-year-old young woman still in her work clothes and looking haggard and stressed. Instead, there was a thin, lithe cat with a brown coat of fur, standing and staring at its reflection with dark amber eyes.

"Great," she said. The cat in the mirror opened its mouth showing a set of white fangs and a rough tongue, mewing in a defeated tone.

She trotted back over to the desk and hopped up on the chair by the wand. After thinking for a second, she closed her jaws around the wood, raised it up, and then tried to figure out how she would ever manage to point it at herself. At that moment, she also remembered that she didn't know the counter jinx and she wouldn't be able to say it with her mouth around the wand anyway.

"Da'it," she said, cursing despite the thicker than usual handle of the wand.

"Fleur!" she heard Mrs. Weasley saying outside. "I have to go warm Hermione's dinner up again, she wasn't down there after all. Could you remind her to come down for me?"

She heard Fleur sigh, then someone walking to the door. The wand dropped from her mouth. "Oh, no!" she muttered.

The door swung open. The petite young French woman with long white blonde hair (which was amazingly unaffected by the humidity) was standing there, looking around the room. Her eyes locked on Crookshanks, who was still sitting on Hermione's bed.

"Hmph," she said, and then sneezed again. Then as she was recovering, she saw Hermione on the chair and her jaw dropped.

"Anozer one!" she said. "Anozer one? Agh!"

She started wildly cursing in French and Hermione, wanting more than anything to get away from her, hopped down from the chair, ran past Fleur's legs and dashed out the door, with the woman still saying, "Fichus chats!"

She ran down the hall and to the kitchen. Mrs. Weasley was setting a bowl of soup and a small plate of warm bread out at Hermione's spot at the table. Bill was still eating. She ran over and started to meow to Mrs. Weasley. She looked down and gasped.

"Where did you come from?" she said. "Oh, Arthur must have left the door open on his way over to – oh, yes, he did…"

Bill shrugged. "You know Dad."

"Well, that was still quite careless of him…"

Mrs. Weasley sighed, picked her up and carried her to the door. Hermione realized too late that Mrs. Weasley was taking her out of the house. "I'm sorry, dear," the redheaded woman said. "I know Hermione wouldn't want Crookshanks to get fleas or something, though…"

Hermione yowled sorrowfully, but Mrs. Weasley had set her outside, patted her on the head and shut the door before she could try to get in.