Her body taunt with anticipation, her fingers rolled a muggle pen across one of her wolfsbane ideas. Its parchment crinkled under her hand, her mind far away. She and Crookshanks sat in one of the partitions in the room of requirement. This was her "study space" which was between the "defensive charms practice space" and the "sleep space".

The half-kneazle had an uncanny ability for finding her latest turned body and with the addition of Winno the Tuna-Bearing-Pushover in their lives, her orange friend had hardly left the Room of Requirement since Christmas Hols.

Before her sat a letter to the law firm who'd been responsive for Hagrid's case. She wouldn't trust any of the other firms who hadn't given the half giant the time of day. No, Sirius Black's request had to go through people she at least had already paid once and half trusted not to screw them over. The finished letter to the lawyer, as Black requested, had been written with officious wording and now lay ready on the table in front of her. Hermione couldn't stop staring at it. Her mind was now free enough to wonder just how terrible it would be to run from the law, without friends, and be entirely dependent on the help of a stranger. To name her of all people the Spokesperson to his House likely meant he didn't have anyone else in the world. Her jaw set, her gaze on the letter hard, and about everything it represented.

She had lived 140 hours since meeting Sirius Black. Now it was the last hours of her final turn event. Soon this day would be over. She had to stay hidden for another three hours before the present form of Harry thought she'd left for a bathroom break and book. Then carrying a tome she could return to the tower. Her anticipation of living in the present had never been so strong. Luckily she wasn't entirely without friends. Winno and her familiar both had been coming to visit her as they could. They found her most recently in the room of requirement's last partition and soon she could leave, would be free.

Just now Crookshanks lay languid and stretched paws as far as they could go on the table in front of them. The room of requirement provided this partition with a writing workspace and fireplace. Hermione looked into the flames and found herself lost in thought on how the room must generate a chimney, hiding it in space away from plain sight just as it hid Hermione's multiple selves from the marauders map. She was darn lucky Harry hadn't thought to use the map often since the twins gifted it to him. Otherwise he would have noticed not only the many Hermione Grangers, but also the Peter Pettigrew fellow living in his dormitory who most certainly wasn't a third year Gryffindor boy. Part of her wondered what would have happened if Harry did see Pettigrew's name on the map. Probably would have led to a completely different set of events. Oh well, she'd never know now. Because her time hiding in the room of requirement was almost done and soon she'd never have to think about the rat Peter Pettigrew ever again.

It was time.

She washed and changed out of clothes which smelled of Crooks. The last time the rat and him had an altercation was in the Leaky Cauldron, but it wouldn't do to be careless now. The cage Sirius Black had conjured from nothing as if it hadn't taken the slightest thought or effort, and wasn't a silent display like that impressive, Hermione had kept the cage close. She could feel the shrunken cage, it's metal cool against her leg, could feel it poking through her jean pocket as she walked.

On her way to the tower she detoured to the school owls. Hermione searched till she found one who looked well rested, tied her letter to its leg and watched it fly off to the south. She'd never felt nervous writing to the law firm on Hagrid's behalf, yet now her stomach twisted. This involvement she'd gotten herself into being a magnitude more dire. If something went wrong more than one person would be in serious danger of losing their life. So she'd planned and re-planned for six days. It would happen tonight. It would work.

With her letter gone a small bit of the weight left her shoulders. Seeing the fat lady Hermione smiled, it was about to begin, and unbeknownst to everyone inside. To them it would look as if she'd only left six minutes ago. The portrait of the Fat Lady scowled a bit and tutted how it was a scant five more minutes to curfew. Hermione murmured her typical, "Sorry Ma'am". Then she was through.

Hermione pulled out her stealth tome with a glamour charm making it appear as a potions book, a notebook on potion modification tests, and went to sit next to Harry and Neville. The only two people besides the twins who Hermione had seriously considered recruiting early on in her mad schemes. However, the four boys were four unpredictable variables which would need to be accounted for. If there was one thing her parents, with their combined PhDs in Dentistry for Clinician-Scientists, had taught her it was that human research would go wonky if the variables weren't controlled. Especially when adding humans into the mux with their own free wills and variations on how they perform. The moment she added a confounding variable she'd have to expect unclear results.

What if one of the boys spoke about it and it led to Ron or the rat overhearing? If the rat knew someone in the tower would soon come for him and if he got away, would she ever find him again?

As much as she loved the four boys, the one who'd be hurt by this fuck up would be the half crazed man living in a cave who asked a stranger for help. She wasn't going to jeopardize it. The man deserved justice and damn anyone who'd fuss or have hurt feelings about propriety. She was going to get that man his trial.

So Neville and Harry still thought this was a normal day. Besides Harry's careful watching her today, he hadn't seen anything damning and he was relaxing again.

Neville looked up. While for her it'd been three days since she'd last sat here, for the two of them it'd only been a few minutes. She hadn't the foggiest what they'd been talking about. Luckily Neville picked up conversation where she'd left them.

"Ron still mad at you?"

Hermione grimaced. "Not really. Maybe just a little. I think he's more upset I won't keep Crookshanks in my dorm. Not as if that would work well with a cat. They go where they please." Crooks had been so busy eating his heart's weight in tuna with Winno in the room of requirement, he'd not the slightest inclination to go after Scabbers. Yet Ron had only recently turned 14 and his pride was hurting.

Hermione at 14 would have slumped, but she'd gone so long her body couldn't do the fretting response she might once have. Maybe this was the problem. Whenever else Ron had been riled over something she stayed near till he got over it. Only this time she'd had Winno, Flitwick, and Hagrid's case to preoccupy her. They held good conversations and each had such challenging topics to throw at her, Flitwick sometimes literally throwing things during her private sessions on wandless defensive charms. For Hermione it had been years since this fall when she'd still been glued to Ron's and Harry's sides.

"Scabbers was missing some fur, but Lavender and I told him it was probably age. The thing's ancient. When Lavender suggested some hair and skin care products, I added the thing could probably use a visit to a vet," Hermione recalled what resulted of her and Ron's last conversation. The boy never had taken her suggestions well. Then again, he never took George's well meaning remarks or Snape's tutelage either. She suspected if he wasn't so easily ruffled he'd find a treasure trove of tactics and strategies from the geniuses around his family. Bill, Charlie, heck even Percy were all top of what they chose to focus in. Hermione, once she realized the younger red head ignored his own brothers as much as her, well she'd simply stopped trying as hard.

Harry added, "It's been a long time. Things been scruffy for ages. He's been on about it that long too."

Hermione agreed, "It feels like forever."

Her emphatic response spilled some of Hermione's potent feelings. She needed this day to pass. She needed a summer break. Hermione needed to sit by a pool, to swim, to let the sun soak into her too white skin and refill her. Sip a glass of rosé with her mum and lament how stupid boys turned men were. Hermione never got around to telling the older woman about the various Lockhart instances. How deeply Hermione regretted not sharing inconsequential gossip with her mum. How the woman would have laughed and lifted her daughter's heart. The story was too good, how Hermione's only crush had exploded as spectacularly as the obliviation exploded the chamber entrance on top of said ponce. Hermione needed her family. She had so much to make up for. She'd been waiting a long time to make it right.

Harry smiled, "Tomorrow will be better. Or maybe next year."

She punched him. Harry's grin grew and he threw a couch cushion in retaliation. The boy who lived through his first peaceful year at Hogwarts gave her a real and utterly relaxed smirk. She wondered what he'd have been like if he hadn't had such trying conditions at school and home. Hermione wanted to see him grin like this more often. Carefree, happy, and not concerned with anything beyond homework or quidditch. He stood, stretched, then announced, "I'm off to bed. You sure you're alright Hermione? You looked stressed earlier. You're fine now?"

"Better. Definitely better. I'll wait for you before breakfast tomorrow?"

His grin came back, "Ya. Night guys."

Her eyes flicked from his retreating form to Ron and Seamus' game of chess. There Scabbers could be seen sitting on the boy's knee. She'd gotten over being furious with the creeper rat, replaced by the sort of calm and focus she rarely had. Planning so meticulously didn't leave room for much else. She was ready.

"It'll get better soon." Neville assured her.

She looked at Neville. His face was sincere in its concern.

"Thank you Neville. You're a good friend."

He blushed, which she smiled at, then he blushed even more and ducked his head. "Ya well..." He didn't know how to finish that sentence.

Eyeing his homework and how many cross-outs he had over previous sentences she gently reminded, "Let me know if you need help on any of that. You can always come to me you know."

"Sure, I might have you look it over tomorrow. I have to clean it up a bit first." He was quiet for a moment and his next words were barely audible, "You're a good friend too you know. Do you mind if we write this summer? My gran always has me busy cleaning the grounds and greenhouses, but maybe when most of its done she'd be ok with me inviting you over. That is if you want to stay. A week or even just a single night if you want."

His last words were rushed. But he didn't look away once while asking. For a moment she got a glimpse of the humble brave man he'd become and she was so proud of him. Her mention that Flitwick thought his wand was a poor match had left him nearly depressed two weeks ago for him. How many weeks was that for her? She'd have to remember to count. But he'd only had two weeks and the possibility of a new wand wasn't crushing him anymore.

"I'd love to spend a week with your family. As long as it's alright with your relatives." Neville's clothes screamed pureblood old money and while Neville himself was the nicest bloke in the tower she wasn't going to delude herself a muggleborn sporting jeans would be welcome everywhere.

"I'll ask," He hurried, then admitted, "It's just my gran and great uncle Algie. I hope that's ok. We have a nice elf named Maddick, though I've always called him Maddie."

"It sounds wonderful."

"And hey, I uh, wanted to thank Professor Flitwick. You too of course. I wrote my gran with his observations and she agreed to take me to Ollivanders. I'm so excited, I've never been before. What was yours like? Did you try every wand in the store."

She giggled. An all out girly giggle. Neville's sheepish but happy grin told her it was ok. And so she told him about bringing two muggle dentists with research degrees to Diagon Alley. Then she told him about her first bit of magic making floating lights around her room and how the lights would all hide when her parents opened her bedroom door.

By the time he went to bed, Fred and George had already come and gone half an hour prior. She waited for the Common Room to empty one by one. By the time the 6th year prefect disappeared up the girl's staircase it was half midnight and Hermione had been stubbornly re-reading the last page of her only book for 30 minutes. When the older girl's cloak disappeared around the bend she launched herself up. The book she'd just finished spoke of cloaking charms. The sort to remove sent and sounds until a finite was cast. Next she cast a shadows charm. It was a level below a disillusionment charm, vastly easier to maintain and dimmed her body to a dark blob of near colorless hues. She took the boys staircase two at a time and stopped outside the third year dorm. Palming her wand she waited. One minute. Two. No other sounds but regular breathing and someone's awful snores.

Silencing the door with a murmur, she reached out to push it forwards. Once inside she left it unlatched just enough to block out the stairwell light. The snoring, to her horror, was coming from Ronald. It took up the whole dormitory with its force. Her lips twisted. If she'd ever had a crush on him this scared it away. Her sensitive hearing would make sleeping side by side nearly impossible. Good thing she didn't have a crush on anyone. Lockhart's lackluster performance put a stop to those sort of fancies. No, she'd be hard pressed to fall over someone clueless again. The chances of them being dangerously inept weren't something she'd easily risk.

Hermione had learned not to trust people incapable or unwilling to return her high regard. To not let them too close. Someone incapable of valuing her, or tossing her aside over a ratchet rat and a broomstick. There was something broken inside her from those events and Ron's continued pettiness wasn't helping. Hermione was well aware her trust in humanity was shaken. When it was at its worst she'd all too willingly found other companions. An elf and professors not withstanding. No, she wouldn't willingly let people rag her anymore. Friends especially shouldn't do that sort of thing. Harry had come to accept this and respected her more for it. The space and defined expectations seemed to be healthy for both of them and they hadn't fought once since they talked it out. Her bond with him came out stronger because of it.

The loud snoring would have covered any sound her stealth spells didn't. No one stirred or woke at the foreign presence in their dorm. She passed Dean's dark form sprawled across the top of his blankets. Then skirted around Seamus' arm hanging off his bed. Ron's bed covered in mussed blankets with chocolate frog cards scattered underneath in a mix of dirty clothes and stray shoes. She approached the quivering blankets and found it was the rat. Its sleeping little body quivering alongside its snoring bedfellow. She felt marginally sick. This may be a grown man. Possibly a grown man who'd murdered so many. Probably more than she even knew. Part of her wanted to cast the jinx she'd learned to remove the animagus transformation, but knew it too risky. If there was even the slightest possibility of Black's story being true she needed aurors present as witnesses to the rat's transformation. With Pettigrew's person already submitted as possible evidence and filed for Sirius Black's case, so they couldn't disregard it during the trial itself. Just because knowing might give her peace of mind didn't mean it'd help the man in the cave. Hermione took a steadying breath and raised her wand. As gentle as possible she lifted the blanket shielding the quivering rat's form.

Her wand tip hovered just above the rat's fur and as quiet as she could she murmured the same body lock spell she'd placed on Neville at the end of first year. Silent and wordless spells made precision difficult for any wizard and she wasn't going to mess this up. So murmur a first year "Petrificus Totalus," she did.

With another few murmurs the all metal cage was out of her pocket, enlarged, and the rat levitating inside. Another silencing spell aimed at the cage. She'd have to reapply both the silencer and locking charms but even if the rat woke up screeching and clawing no one would hear it. Despite it's little breathing holes, the rat wouldn't find a way out. Her sticking charm said it was obscure and strong enough to stick portraits to walls. There was no way the rat was getting out without someone knowing its counter.

She checked the cage's physical lock had shut tight, then withdrew from the boys' room.