A/N: Merging a bit of the shorts I did for Quidditch Pitch into this story.

Beta Love: fluffpanda & The Dragon and the Rose

Glad It Wasn't Me

Chapter 2: Ottery Education

Severus stared down at his pile of half-graded parchments as if glaring at them would make their grammar better. His eyes narrowed into slits as his fingers drummed against the desk. A squeaky brown blur of fur bounced over his wrist as he was writing.

Was that a quill? Was that his favourite green quill?

There was a splashing sound and more squeaking followed by the tappity tap tapping of a stone against shell.

Severus slid his eyes over to the left, eyeing the miniature tidal pool he had set up for one squeaky otter of note, though he had to admit that she was the only otter of note in his life at that given moment. Hermione was cracking open yet another abalone shell, devouring the insides, sorting the resulting shell according to quality of lustre, size, and colour. They had made a small killing for high quality abalone shell for use in potion ingredients and jewelry as well as incense bowls and other such miscellaneous. Between the abalone shells, fresh and saltwater pearls, and unofficial seafood "fetching" business, he was set to provide for Hermione's education and wellbeing as well as his own for more than a lifetime. People paid an obscene amount of Muggle or Wizarding money for fresh seafood and high quality reagents, and Hermione was a go-getter when it came to finding seafood. For every one thing she brought back for a customer, she brought back twice as much for their personal use, and Minerva had become the world's most content seafood-fed feline Animagus on this side of the pond.

Due to her "condition," Hermione had become a fast learner in silent and wandless magic, however, he was starting to believe that intent of language translated into Otterese because Hermione could place her paws on a wand and cast some pretty impressive magic. Flitwick had crafted Hermione a charmed wand-pendant out of her wand, and Hermione wore the small abalone choker around her neck in case she needed a wand. It had the unfortunate side effect that every time she cast a spell with her "wand" magic would shoot out of her eyes or out from her tail tip, which started an entire rumour mill that she could shoot lasers out of her eyes and her arse when pissed off. Severus wasn't sure if that was a good bit of PR or bad.

Every class had an enchanted slate she was allowed to use to communicate in English to answer questions, and Hermione proved to be just as enthusiastic a writer as she was a talker before she had been otterfied. All of her teachers, with the exception of Trelawney, adored her in class. He had to fetch his familiar from Trelawney's tower. Trelawney had been convinced that Hermione was a Grim in disguise thanks to one of his Slytherins covering her in black ink. How the woman mistook an ink-covered otter for a Grim, he would never know, but she had blasted Hermione out of the tower window screaming that "DEATH WAS COMING FOR EVERYONE!" before Draco had Accioed his broom to his hand and rescued Hermione from a very undignified death.

Hermione was thereby banished from Divination, and Snape couldn't quite decide if that was how Hermione preferred it. Instead of Divination, she took to following him around during study hall, perching on his shoulder, snuggling up to his neck, and then imitating his movements with her paws from atop his shoulder. No one else would dare, yet somehow she made it look adorable. He would catch her at it and she would freeze in place, staring at him with wide, adorable eyes.

When he had enough of her shenanigans, he would pass her off to Minerva for their lessons, and Minerva seemed to think Hermione imitating her was the most endearing thing ever. Hermione became very talented at gestural transfiguration. She would gesture with her paws, making a squeaking noise, and goblets would turn into birds and back again. She once accidentally transfigured a pachyderm that proceeded to sit on Goyle's desk. She squeaked in shame and then crawled into Draco's pocket in embarrassment to hide out the repercussions. Minerva was a lot of things, but she was not senile. She had Hermione writing "I will not transfigure pachyderms on my classmate's desk" in transfiguration alphabet an hour that evening before she was allowed to do her homework. Severus had tried to look stern and agreeable to Minerva's wrath, but he couldn't help but smile slightly when McGonagall wasn't looking. Goyle had to explain to his parents why he needed his wand replaced. It was worth every moment of listening to Goyle stammer to his parents that he had been bested by an otter wielding a wand.

All things said, once the punishment was given, Minerva and Hermione were back to being amicable, and Hermione got her whiskers up into McGonagall's business after she was done with her homework until Severus was done grading his parchments and watching over the detentions.

When full moons came, Hermione would assist in keeping Remus company, and the werewolf seemed to enjoy the otter's company more than being sat on by Severus' massive cave lion form or Sirius' nipping him on the rump each night. She seemed to like riding between Potter's prongs, and would chatter off commands in Otterese as though she was the boss of him. Strangely, Potter seemed to understand what she wanted just fine even without a familiar Bond. More miraculously, he would listen to her.

Lily adored Hermione, and after reaming out her son for his reckless endangerment of his friends, proceeded to love on Hermione like she was family, which ended up being a good thing in the end. Hermione's parents did not take the transformation of their daughter well. No matter how much Hermione had tried prove to them that the otter they were seeing was their daughter, their denial was stronger.

Hermione had spent the next week hiding under Severus' four-poster bed, refusing to come out, refusing to go to class, and refusing to eat. When exhaustion had finally claimed her, Severus had cradled her to his chest and tucked her against his body. He fed her her medications and fluids with a tiny bottle until she was strong enough to take bits of seafood gumbo he had cooked himself. He and Minerva took turns carrying her around until she was well again. He considered it good that she wasn't full grown, as carrying around a full-grown otter would have been an interesting exercise in comedy.

When he found her with her nose stuck in a pile of study books, her paws waving in the air like a conductor to the orchestra to cast the magic to turn the pages for her, he knew she was on the mend, and Lily's visits seemed to soothe the young otter-witch a little more by providing the kind of demonstrative warmth that mothers were prone to do.

Gilderoy Lockhart came at Dumbledore's request to "cure" Hermione, and he came with a list of credentials so long it was hard to see the man over the pile of references. When Severus came in to check on them, however, he saw Hermione hanging limply from Lockhart's arm as though she had no bones left in her body. Minerva saw it around the same time he had, and her shriek of dismay had been loud enough to send the portraits yelling for Dumbledore.

Lockhart had been stammering excuses as both Minerva and Severus had carried Hermione's limp form to the hospital wing. Poppy gave her an elixir to regrow her bones, and Hermione had made the most horrible face as she lapped at it, glaring at Poppy like she was trying to kill her with poison.

Poppy somehow soothed the young otter witch into drinking what she had, but Severus felt the disgusted and quite colourful vernacular coming from her mind. Apparently she had been paying too close attention to Black and his creative use of the Queen's English. He soothed her with some of her favourite shrimp and clams, and Hermione has seemed for forgive Poppy for giving her the horrible concoction and Severus for having allowed it to be given to her. Minerva ended up staying with her that night since Snape had patrol duties that evening, and the bond between the elder Animagus and the young otter-witch seemed to grow even stronger.

Severus returned the next morning to find Minerva coming as close to losing her cool as he had ever seen her.

"You will not, Mr Lockhart!" Minerva screeched. "It's bad enough that the poor dear had to be dosed with Skele-grow in order to put her back together. I will not have you waving your wand at her anymore!"

"Madam McGonagall," Lockhart stammered her title incorrectly. "P—professor. I assure you I have the proper qualifications!"

"Do do what, exactly?" Minerva seethed. "Debone chickens for the Muggle farming industry?"

"Madam, I assure you," Lockhart began.

"You can assure yourself right out that door, Mr Lockhart," the Scottish witch growled, a hint of the cat in her voice.

"I was hired to resolve this issue with the transformed student, Madam!" Lockhart announced. "I cannot leave until my task has been done!"

"You've done quite enough, Mr Lockhart," Poppy said as she came out from behind the curtain. "It was bad enough that you made most of her bones disappear, but I think even if she hadn't already been used to being an otter for the past few months, being turned into a velociraptor is one transformation too many! You're just lucky Professor Snape had taught her meditative techniques to keep from being overrun by a second set of instincts!"

Severus blinked at the mention of velociraptor. He rushed past Poppy and looked behind the curtain and stared at what should have been his familiar or at least something he recognised. Instead, a feathered crest rose from a reptilian head lifted to stare at him. A long tail ended in a fan of feathers as she shook herself.

"Kkrh!" the creature called, the sound piercing the room with its resonance. "Kkrh! Kkrh! Screeeeee!"

That was the only warning he received before he was slammed into the ground and the female otter gone velociraptor pounced on him with a screech.

She slammed her feathered head against his body with a unnerving purring sound, her rear foot claws coming disturbingly close to places he'd rather not have punctured.

The last thing he thought before her many pointed teeth came bearing down towards his face was, "I guess that theory that velociraptors had feathers was correct."

-o-o-o-o-o-

Thankfully, Lockhart's skill in transfiguration was so deplorable that Hermione's secondary transformation didn't last long. Hermione returned to her normal, or rather what had become normal, furry and web-footed self and lay on top of Severus' chest with a cheerful squeak. She snuggled into him, rubbing her whiskers against his chin and burrowing into his robes, and all Severus could do was thank each of his lucky stars by name in alphabetical order that all Hermione had wanted to do, even as a transfigured dinosaur, was greet him with enthusiasm. He was equally thankful that Lockhart was apparently an idiot.

Hermione gave him a cheerful chain of squeaks and warm thoughts from her mind as she rubbed all over his face. He knew it was more to reassure herself than him, but it served both purposes. He was glad she was okay. He pulled her warm body close to him in a hug, sighing with relief. She bonked her skull into his chin with a sharp whap, proving that her bones were no longer missing.

"Mr Lockhart!" Minerva's voice exclaimed. "Put that wand away!"

"I'm sorry, Madams," Lockhart answered, "but I cannot allow you to speak of his."

"Mr Lockhart! This is an infirmary!" Poppy's voice joined Minerva's in protest.

Severus shot a look towards Hermione, tapping her nose. He gestured with his head silently. Hermione's playful demeanour changed instantly, and she hopped off him and bounded off along the privacy curtain.

Snape stood, pulling his wand out in a smooth motion. He squared his jaw and walked beyond the curtain. "And what, pray tell, has a guest of this school drawing their wand against the faculty," he droned tonelessly.

Lockhart aimed his wand at Severus, perhaps having forgotten that he had even been there. "Ah, ah! Do put that wand down, Professor. We wouldn't want anything horrible to happen here."

Snape scowled, eyes flicking to Minerva and Poppy. He slowly put his wand down on the nearby table, his eyes locked on Lockhart's face.

Lockhart gestured for the three of them to move together, and they reluctantly did. He seemed to mumble to himself, as if debating on what he was going to do with them all. His face was conflicted a moment before the mask of charm settled in again. "I fear there will be a horrible tragedy here today," Lockhart announced. "Pity really, but thankfully, I will remain to tell the Headmaster all about it." He saw Minerva going for her wand and refocused on her. "Thankfully, while I wasn't all that great at Transfiguration. I was exceedingly well-versed in memory charms. Mass memory charms, actually. "Obli—"

It was at that moment that Hermione reminded Lockhart about the lesson he apparently missed while he was sitting classes as a child: one should always know where your otter is. Rather, one should always know where any otter is, or one should at least always know where Ottermione was. The fuzzy little demon dashed out from under the privacy curtain, scampered up his pant leg, and nailed him right in the family jewels.

Lockhart screamed in mid-spell as some odd beam came shooting out of his wand and ricocheted off the hospital ward window and slammed into his head. At the same time, Minerva and Poppy went diving to the floor as Minerva had her wand in her hand. She cast a Stupefy towards Lockhart before she even hit the ground. Severus had his wand in his hand in time to send an Incarcerous spell zinging from his wand before Lockhart even hit the floor

Lockhart lay on the ground with a blank look on his face. Whatever perversion of the Obliviate spell ended with screaming had apparently done a number on his mind.

Later, in Dumbledore's office, Hermione was busily sucking on every lemon drop she could get her mouth on as Minerva, Severus, and Poppy explained to Albus and the team of Aurors what had happened in the infirmary. The Daily Prophet had gotten wind of it in time to make the morning edition, and Gilderoy Lockhart was incarcerated at St Mungo's before the ink was dry. No one was entirely sure what the spell had done to his brain, but the healer in charge had made a swirling motion with his fingers, smashed his fingers together, and wrung them together by ways of demonstration.

The main lesson of the day, as by consensus, was: always know where your Ottermione is.