December 1995
In the days following the first task, Hermione herded Harry and Ron up towards the Owlery so Harry could post the letter she had made him write to Sirius. As it turned out, using the tattletale excuse always seemed to kick their asses in gear, whether she threatened to tell Sirius, McGonagall or even Dumbledore. Mostly because she knew, that they knew that most people saw her as this goody-two-shoes witch, meaning she could just about get away with anything, much like a younger sister tattling on her brothers.
Harry had spent the journey up to the Owlery explaining to Ron everything that Sirius had told him about Karkaroff. Though he was shocked at first, by the time the trio had reach the turret, Ron was of the opinion that it was rather obvious in hindsight.
"Fits, doesn't it?" Said Ron, "Remember what Malfoy said on the train, about his dad being friends with Karkaroff? Now we know where they knew each other. They were probably running around in masks together at the World Cup…I'll tell you one thing though, Harry, if it was Karkaroff who put your name into the goblet, he's going to be feeling really stupid now isn't he? Didn't work, did it? You only got a scratch!—"
Hermione crossed her arms and leant against the poop-speckled Owlery wall safely out of the way of the overly excited Weasley owl as he dive-bombed Harry and Ron. Geez, he's really laying it on thick, ain't he? She knew that Ron was really only saying these things to make up for his behaviour over the passed few weeks, but it was still starting to grate on her nerves.
"…There's no way any of the other task are going to be that dangerous! How could they be?" Ron continued to ramble as he carried Pigwidegon back over to the window and tossed him outside. "Y'know what? I reckon you could win the whole tournament, Harry. I'm serious"
"Harry's got a long way to go before he finished the tournament" Hermione replied realistically, "Did you forget about the recorded deaths bit? Merlin! If that was the first task, I hate to think what's coming next"
"Right little ray of sunshine, aren't you? You and Trelawney should get together sometime" Pigwidegon plummeted a few feet before he was able to regain his senses and fluttered off with Harry's novel. "Well, we'd better get back downstairs for your surprise party, Harry—Fred and George should have nicked enough food from the kitchens by now" Ron turned back from the window.
"So much for the surprise!" Hermione scolded Ron as she followed after the boys, brushing off little flakes of dried owl poo from her jacket.
Sure enough when they returned to the Gryffindor tower, the common room had exploded with cheers and yells. There were mountains of baked goods and flagons of pumpkin juice & butterbeer on every surface. Lee had let off some Filibuster's Fireworks so that the air was thick with stars and sparks, and Dean—who was very good at drawing—had but up some impressive new banners, most of which depicted Harry zooming around the Horntail's head on his Firebolt; though a couple did show Cedric with his head on fire.
Helping herself to the chocolate eclairs, Hermione soon found herself seated next to Ron and Harry when Lee accosted her bespeckled friend with the golden egg. "Blimey! This thing is heavy!" Said Lee picking up the golden egg (which Harry had left on a table) and was weighing it in his hands. "Open it Harry! Go on! Let's just see what's inside!"
"He's s'posed to work out the clue on his own" Hermione swiftly interjected, "It's in the tournament rules…"
"I was s'posed to work out how to get passed the dragon on my own too" Harry muttered out of the corner of his mouth. Hermione grinned guiltily and gobbled down another eclair.
"Yeah! Go on, Harry! Open it!" Several people around them echoed.
Lee passed Harry the egg and with a bit of scrambling along the groove that ran around the circumference of the egg, he prised it open. The first thing Hermione noticed was that the hollow interior of the egg was a matted gold in colour, painted much like a Muggle Easter egg would be. The next thing she noticed was the ear-piercing shriek that escaped from it, filling the room. It filled the room in a loud and screechy wailing, one that made Hermione think of a toddler being run over by a lawnmower.
"SHUT IT!" Fred bellowed, hands over his ears. He wasn't the only one. As soon as the screeching had started, witches, wizards and paintings alike had snapped away from the egg and clamped their hands over their ears in an effort to block out the horrific noise to no avail.
"What was that?" Seamus stared at the egg as Harry mercifully slammed it shut again. "Sounded like a banshee…Maybe you've gotta get passed one those next, Harry!"
"It was someone being tortured!" Neville suggested next. He had gone ashen-faced and spilled several sausage rolls onto the carpet, "You're going to have to face the Cruciatus Cruse!"
"Don't be a prat, Neville, that's illegal" Replied George, "They wouldn't use the Cruciatus Curse on champions. I thought it sounded a bit like Percy singing…maybe you've got to attack him while he's in the shower, Harry"
"What 'bout you, 'Mione? What d'ya think?" Harry turned to the witch.
"First thing that came to mind was a toddler being run over by a lawnmower—" Several Muggleborns and Halfbloods in the room winced at the bloody image, "—So unless you think your gonna be mutilating children…" Hermione replied.
"Eurgh! Yeah, no, I don't think so" Harry agreed, placing the egg down on the coffee table and going back to the plate of food piled high in front of him.
"Want a tart Hermione?" Fred offered, shoving the plate of jam tarts into her face. Hermione looked doubtfully at the offered plate.
"It's all right—" Fred grinned, "I haven't done anything to them. It's the custard creams you've gotta watch out for" Neville who had just bitten into a custard cream, choked and spat it out making Fred laugh, "Just my little joke, Neville…"
"…Uh, I'm fine with these…" Hermione replied, biting into the eclair in her hand, only for cream to squirt out of the bottom of the pastry. "Mm!" Whilst Hermione was licking the cream off of her hands and lips, she was unaware of the suddenly very red Weasley standing next to her and following her tongue's movements with rapt attention.
"Can you pass me a napkin, Ron?" Hermione leant around Harry when all the cream was gone, "Thanks" Turning back to the elder Weasley, Hermione then asked, "Did you get all this from the kitchens Fred?"
"H-huh?" Fred shook himself, ridding himself of whatever images his mind had conjured.
"Fred?"
"Oh! Uh, yep!" He grinned, putting on a high-pitched squeak and imitating a House-Elf, 'Anything we can get you, sir, anything at all!' They're dead helpful…get me a roasted ox if I was peckish enough"
"How'd you get there?"
"Easy, concealed door behind a painting of a bowl of fruit. Just tickle the pear, and it giggles and—" He suddenly stopped and looked suspiciously at her, "Why?"
"Nothing" Hermione rapidly replied.
"Going to try and lead the House-elves out on strike now are you?" George added, "Going to give up all the leaflet stuff and stir them into a rebellion?"
Several people chortled at the idea. Hermione didn't answer, just simply slumped down in her seat a little. It might not have been the real reason she wanted to know where the kitchens were, but it was the less embarrassing reason why. House-elf strike versus seafood/chocolate cravings? It was no wonder, Lavender had asked if she was pregnant the other day.
"Don't you go upsetting them and telling them they've gotta take clothes and salaries!" Warned Fred, "You'll put them off their cooking!"
"Oh! That's not the reason she wants to know, is it Mia?" Victoria grinned appearing next to the twins.
"Vicky!" Hermione warned, snapping upright and pointing a finger towards the elder witch.
"What are you talking about, Baker?" George turned to the girl who was happily munching on a jam tart.
"Don't you dare!" Hermione warned again, only to be ignored by the devilish witch.
"Oh just a little incident last year with a certain chocolate-loving Prof—"
"Ineptias!" Hermione squealed, blushing furiously as she cut off her friend; wandlessly using a hex that she had learnt from the joke book she planned to give the twins for Christmas.
"Tahw saw taht rof, Aim?" Victoria tried to ask, but her question came out garbled and sounding like nonsense.
"Ha! What was that?" George laughed as Victoria tried her best to sound out her words, only for nothing to change.
"What I wanna know, is what Baker was going to say that made Mia do that!" Fred turned to the furiously blushing witch.
"N-nothing! It's nothing!" Hermione squealed.
Thankfully, Neville caused a slight diversion by turning himself into a large sunshine yellow canary and toppled off of his seat. "Oh…sorry, Neville!" Fred shouted over all of the laughter, "I forgot it was the custard creams we hexed—" Within a minute, however, Neville had melted, and once his feathers had fallen off, he reappeared looking entirely normal. He even joined in on the laughter.
"Canary Creams!" George to thee excitable crowd, previous conversation forgotten much to Hermione's relief, "Fred and I invented them—seven Sickles a piece, a bargain!"
Months and months after the girls had started the Animagi process, Hermione finally discovered which animal she was going to be. Following the first task of death-defying dragons, many of her dreams had been filled with terrifying images of Harry (and occasionally Ron or Viktor) dying in outrageous ways.
It was in the latest one where Harry was being drowned in the Black Lake by Mrs Norris (Filch's cat), when it appeared like a guardian angel out of the darkest depths. At first, Hermione had thought it to be her patronus, but as it had approached she could make out more of a solid shape moving through the water.
Somehow she knew this creature was her; in the same way you know that the faceless guy in your dreams was your father or brother or friend. From the watery depths emerged an otter, a river otter to be exact. She could almost see the scientific classification jump out at her like it had come straight from the pages of a marine encyclopaedia. Hermione was an otter, and it made so much sense.
It was during one particular Care of Magical Creatures lesson when she spent most of the lesson cloud-watching instead of the bloody Blast-ended Skrewts squirming around in the crates at her feet. A thought occurred to her, The transformation has to be completed at the birth of a storm. Hermione's eyes trailed after a little grey cloud as it floated lazily across the dull sky, But who said the storm had to be naturally induced?
And so, in true form, Hermione took to the library.
Hermione's chance didn't come until a few weeks later when the forecast predicted heavy rain. The December sleet and wind had made its way to Hogwarts by this point, creating the perfect base for a magically-induced storm. According to the old weather spell she had found, you didn't have to base it on the pre-existing weather, but it did help, particularly if one was to perform the spell alone.
Hermione was glad for the roaring fires and thick walls of the castle as she passed by the Durmstrang ship on the way to the Forest, which was pitching in the high winds with its black sails billowing against the dark skies. She thought that the Beauxbatons carriage was likely to be rather chilly too, since the French students had been so under dressed when they had first arrived at Hogwarts.
Hagrid, she noticed, was once again keeping Madame Maxime's horses well provided with their preferred drink of the single-malt whiskey, which was impressive considering the quantities the equines inhaled and the fumes that wafted up from the troughs in the corner of their paddock. It was enough to make the Care of Magical Creatures classes light-headed.
Trudging down the frosted path, Hermione tucked her frost-nipped nose further into her Bulgarian scarf from the World Cup and tried her best not to slip over as she made her way through the snowy forest. Following muscle memory to the spot where Forest and Lake met, Hermione set about preparing herself for the spell in question.
The incantation in question was a rather simple one, but the small book that she had "borrowed" from the Restricted Section stated that intent played a large part in it. So she had waited for a day that had delivered on the forecasted rain. Thankful of her the study lesson that she had before dinner that day, Hermione easily slipped down to the Forest where she planned on performing it. The book had noted that after the incantation was recited, then a brief period of time had to be given in leeway of the storm to brew fully.
With toes buried at the cold Lake's edge, the water not quite iced over, Hermione raised her arms towards the heavens with palms up and began to recite the incantation, pouring all the intent she could into the spell.
"Mystic forces I invite,
Fill the skies with clouds of night
Be ye far or be ye near
I summon rain to appear
Sky above, gone the sun
The melodies have just begun
Sky above, come undone
Shower rain on everyone
Sky above, come undone
Shower rain on everyone
Sky above, come undone
Shower rain on everyone!"
She remained there, chanting the last verse over and over until the first showers of rain began to fall in earnest. Hermione laughed jovially as she grinned up at the darkening sky and danced happily amongst the snow-covered trees, relishing in the raindrops on her skin in her elation.
Racing back up to the castle, Hermione was able to intercept Luna in the entrance Hall halfway through dinner, just as a loud crack of thunder split across the sky. The two shared a conspiratorial grin as the rest of the coven hurried over to meet them. "C'me on! Let's go!" Grinned Emilia as she raced passed the pair, grabbing both the younger witches by the wrists and leading them out into the pouring rain.
The girls laughed and danced in the rain, mindless of the looks they were receiving from other students who hurried inside to find some kind of shelter. Hermione heard whispers from a gaggle of French witches asking if it was some kind of ritual that Scottish witches did. It only made her laugh harder.
Robes billowed out behind the girls as they raced down to the Forest, each one shedding as many layers as they could the moment the reached the boundary line. Off came the cloak and shoes and sweater and socks until they were wildly racing through the woods like dryads in spring.
It seemed to only take moments for the coven to reach their clearing, all windswept and huffing from the abrupt sprint through the wintry woods. Hermione could barely contained her excitement as she watched Sophie pull out the two small golden cauldrons (courtesy of the Garcia Vaults), where the potion had been distilling in the tree cupboards for most of the year. Next to her, Luna was practically buzzing in excitement.
After the viscous blood red liquid was poured into two goblets and the cauldrons cleaned with a quick Scourgify! the two hewn goblets were presented to either witch. "Remember to picture your animal in your mind. See its head, the feet, the eyes. See it so clearly that you could almost reach out and touch it" Lila instructed handing Hermione her goblet.
Hermione took a deep shuddering breath and closed her eyes, bringing forth the image of the river otter which had visited her in her dreams. Like a wildlife documentary, Hermione could picture each and every detail of her animagus. From the elongated body to the broad hips; from the thick cat-like whiskers to the long propeller-like tail. A broad muzzle and flat head came to mind, with rounded ears and small beady eyes sunken into the head. Encased in short dark mud-coloured fur, and an underbelly that likened itself to pebbles and skipping stones. The otter in her mind appeared with a sharp-toothed grin and looked like it had just emerged from the beloved water.
"Can you picture it?" Came Emilia's voice. Keeping her eyes closed, Hermione nodded, keeping the image in her mind. All around them, the environment felt alive with the electrifying static energy that was filling the air. The hair on her arms and neck began to stand up, and a tingly sensation flitted though her limbs leaving goosebumps to trail along her skin.
"Good, now drink the potion" Lila instructed, watching as both witches gulped down the mouthful of blood red potion in their goblets. "And repeat Amato Animo Animato Animagus"
Up above the clearing, lightning crackled splitting the sky and painting the heavens in electrifying and blinding colours. Hermione could see the large flashes of light, light up behind her eyelids. With eyes still shut and animal firmly in mind, Hermione and Luna recited the incantation in unison, "Amato Animo Animato Animagus"
For a moment nothing seemed to happen, and then all at once bones began to pop and crack as their first transformations came upon them. Dropping her goblet to the forest floor, Hermione fought to keep the river otter in mind over the short and sharp pain she was suddenly feeling.
Like a combination of menstruation cramps and growing pains; a small gasp escaped from her lips as her body contorted into unnatural shapes and angles. She knew from her research that the process of changing between animal and witch would become easier over time. Like learning to walk, it would take several tries before she was likely to get it properly right.
Clothes morphed into muddy-coloured short-haired fur, teeth elongated into sharp fangs, frizzy hair shrunk to rounded button-ears and pushed back to reveal a flat head. The process took no more than a few moments but time seemed to blur together becoming a melting pot of fuzzy memories filled with nothing but emotions.
When the pain had finally passed, Hermione found that her equilibrium was off and she fell the short distance to the forest floor. A series of rushed chitters and chirps escaped her lips as she tried to right herself in her (new) body. Thoughts and instincts whirled around in her head as her witch mind and animal mind took a moment to seamlessly meld together; leaving her to fondle at her muzzle with tiny webbed paws and flop around the clearing as she tried to regain her bearings.
When all seemed right once more, the little otter spun around to find herself nose-to-nose with a mountain hare. Luna. Her mind supplied. The little mountain hare twitched her nose as she hopped forth to sniff the little otter, as she did so Hermione was able to see that Luna was sporting the white fluff of winter, making it easier for her to blend in with the environment.
Fleet of foot, the mountain hare suits Luna just fine. Hermione thought as her attention turned away from the happy little hare who had deemed her safe, to the collection of witches around them. Where they once stood cooing and proudly smiling at the two youngest witches, now stood a menagerie of animals.
Chasing after the elder animals of this strange little group, both new animals were christened with their nicknames. Cleverly named, Otto and Hopper were introduced into the world, racing through the stormy lands of Scotland, just a couple of animals in play.