This just wasn't going to work…

A certain brown-eyed witch could be seen currently wringing her hands in what looked to be nervousness and a slight hint of frustration. One might also notice that she appeared to be flustered, self-conscious under the gaze of rather intense green eyes.

She didn't understand why she was so nervous. After all, she did this sort of thing in front of Crookshanks all the time. It seemed, however, that this situation was decidedly dissimilar.

Honestly! There was no need for this… this trepidation! She was acting like a ruddy, giggling little school girl for heaven's sake! This was her house after all, and she could bloody well undress when and where she wanted to!

Keep telling yourself that, Granger…

'Oh do shut up.'

Typical response from someone who knows she's wrong…

'I said shut your hole! Or perhaps you would like me to do it for you, hmm?'

Temper temper, Ms. Granger. And I'd like to see you try…

Hermione pointedly ignored that last comment, more in favor of dealing with her current predicament. It certainly wasn't because it was unhealthy to have arguments with one's self… goodness no…

But back to business…

Really, it could be seen as her own fault, having left her door open wide to the world's prying eyes. And yet again, she was in the sanctity of her own home, where closed doors were not needed. Perhaps she'd just conveniently forgotten that she had a certain, how shall we say, 'guest' to which she had to play hostess. Said guest was sitting comfortably back on his haunches in the doorway, watching her curiously with those frustratingly familiar green eyes.

Couldn't the big lummox understand that her getting undressed was a private matter? Then again, he was just an animal…

So?

'Ugh, I thought I'd gotten rid of you.'

Come now, someone as supposedly 'brilliant' as you should know that one cannot do away with one's own self… it just isn't done. Unless, of course, you plan to commit suicide.

'I reiterate, do shut up.'

No! Now, back to the main subject. I'm sure it hasn't escaped you that Crookshanks is an animal as well…

'Yes, but Crookshanks isn't exactly a normal animal.'

And this guy is?

'But Crookshanks is part kneazle, which makes him magical.'

Oh, and I suppose this bloke is just your everyday, run-of-the-mill panther of abnormal size…

'…..'

And just how do you explain him being found just outside the forbidden forest, which happens to be where Hagrid's hut is, which is just so conveniently on the grounds of Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry?

'Point taken…' .

As much as she hated to concede victory to that annoying voice, perhaps it could prove fruitful to maybe ask him to move. Yet, she found it a bit difficult to find the words.

Or at least, it would have been that way, had she not seen what looked like quite an amused expression within the feline's twinkling eyes.

"Oh, so you think it's funny that I can't undress in front of you, do you?" she asked him, her hands settling on her hips in that standard Hermione pose. "I don't even know you, how could I feel comfortable doing such a thing?

"Now that I think about it, Remus never did say what your name was. I suppose I should assume you don't have one then," she said, settling down in the chair at her desk. She was a little more than surprised when the creature followed and sat right in front of her, settling back on his haunches once more. Creepy how he was now eye-level with her when sitting… No matter, she was more focused on figuring out a suitable name. But, what to call him?

"Hmm… somehow, I think giving you a cutesy pet name would be a bit too undignified. What do you think?" Of course, she hadn't expected anything in the way of response. However, she found herself quite pleasantly surprised once again when the beast shook his shaggy head from side to side to confirm the negative.

Hermione smiled through her shock. "You are quite a bit more intelligent than I'd given you credit for. Perhaps too much… If I didn't know any better, I'd have to say you were an animagus."

She didn't know how close to the truth she was…

"You remind me a lot of my best friend Harry… both your eyes are this indescribable green. But I don't suppose it would be the best idea to give you his name; it'd be a bit too awkward." The creature inclined his head as if agreeing with her, his eyes lit with a hidden mirth she couldn't place.

Perhaps he should be named after some sort of history figure, one not well known… something that would suit his nature…

"Ah, I've got it! I'll name you Bast, after the Egyptian goddess Bastet." As far as reactions go, she wasn't sure what she'd been expected from the cat, as he had been surprising her quite a bit. At the moment, though, he was just looking at her, clearly confused as to exactly who Bastet was and why on earth would she name him as such.

Goodness, but he was more like Harry than she realized…

"I suppose it would be a good idea to tell you my logic behind the name, as confused as you seem to be. But you have to listen, and not nod off, understand?" In response, the creature came closer to her, bending his body lower so that he could rest his head in her lap. Her features softened a fraction or two, and her fingers automatically went to glide through his soft fur.

"Bastet is the Egyptian feline goddess of protection and pregnant women," she said, chuckling lightly as the creature's head shot up at the very instant of hearing the words pregnant women. He was so much like Harry, it was scary….

"I pegged that name for you, not only because she was depicted as a cat goddess, but she was said to be fiercely protective and aggressive, yet docile and gentle in her duty as protector of the home. Aside from the part about pregnant women, I think it suits you perfectly. Don't you think so?" Her response came in the form of a loud, contented purr (growl).

She giggled softly, still stroking his fur in an almost loving manner. She was starting to get attached and the first day wasn't even over yet. "Alright, Bast it is. Now then, I would kindly ask you to step out of the room for a few moments so that I might dress for bed."

Bast did as was asked of him, leaving his 'mistress's' lap with a snort of what could have been amusement. Once he was out of sight, Hermione quickly divested herself of her clothing, only to slip on an over-sized T-shirt seconds afterwards.

'Bast' made his way along the hall and down the stairs to arrive at ground level. Since arriving in the Granger home, he'd been following Hermione constantly, never once letting her out of his sight. Now, however, he was taking the time to explore his temporary home and territory. It would do to know every nook and cranny of the place should any danger arise. This was part of his duty, after all.

For you see, Bast was not just your every-day, average, abnormally large panther. No, Bast was in fact, the animagus form of Harry Potter.

Not so surprising is it?

Of course we all know that Mr. Potter is capable of quite the most extraordinary things, even by the standards of the wizarding world. But an animagus form learned and successfully perfected at only 15 years of age?

Well, not quire perfected, but you get the idea.

Harry couldn't it believe himself, at first. If you'd told him that in just two months time he'd learn to fully become an animagus, he might've had a good laugh at your expense and inquired about your mental health.

Yet, here he was in this… absolutely amazing form. It was, indeed, quite a story to tell….