Hermione Granger writhed in embarrassment in her cot in the hospital wing as her terrifying potions professor stared down at her. Her ears twitched at a noise Madam Pomfrey made, and he smirked at her.

He hadn't said anything yet, not since he had swept into the room five minutes ago and let out a startled laugh.

She did look a sight, Hermione thought. How was she supposed to know that Millicent Bullstrode owned a cat, for goodness sake? And now she was stuck with a stupid cat's face, and a tail! And the ears – they moved by themselves! She had had to pull her stolen Slytherin robes up around her head on the way to the hospital wing- thank goodness she hadn't had to take the grand staircase!

Pomfrey had cast a few bewildered spells over her, and come up with nothing. Hermione knew that she hadn't helped by saying it had been a spell gone wrong. After about half an hour of diagnostic spells, Pomfrey had summoned Professor Snape, and Hermione knew that she was doomed.

A clock on the wall reminded Hermione that it was now 55 minutes since they had taken the Polyjuice and Hermione wondered how the boys were doing. And started to wonder when Crabbe and Goyle would wake up. Oh, she was so dead if Snape found out.

55 minutes. She was just hoping that the potion would wear off when she got to the hour. Oh, why hadn't she waited until Harry and Ron had come back before going to the hospital wing?

"I should take a photograph." Snape said. The corners of his mouth twitched once again as the ears pointed straight forwards. "I should take a photograph, a caution to others against the hazards of experimenting beyond one's ability."

He frowned, "Why did you insist to Madam Pomfrey that this is spell damage? If she had not come to find me, it could have taken weeks for this to resolve, if at all."

Hermione blinked up at him, mute.

"As you wish. Where were you brewing? I shall need a sample of the potion in order to reverse the effects."

Hermione shook her head.

"Miss Granger." His voice was harsher now, "I strongly advise you to co-operate. Surely you realise you are in enough trouble as it is? If you are not compliant, I shall have to make enquires into your whereabouts this afternoon, and I am sure you would not appreciate that."

Hermione couldn't tell him for the next half hour at least. He was sure to come across Ron and Harry's belongings if he did, and then they would be in heaps of trouble too.

"Can I think about it?" She asked quietly.

The expression on Snape's face morphed, all amusement was gone now, and there was a measure of concern. "Where are Potter and Weasley?"

Damn. Hermione tried to not react to the last question she wanted to answer.

"In the common room, I think. They don't know what I was doing."

"And they haven't thought to ask for the last month?"

Ugh, so he knew everything. She closed her eyes and sighed. She didn't know it, but her tail drooped too. She'd just have to hope the boys didn't show up while Snape was there, and that he wouldn't look through all the cubicles.

"The cauldron's in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom." She said quietly.

Snape nodded, and strode out the room without another word. Pomfrey bustled back over, confused, and Hermione resisted the urge to hide her head under a pillow. And the even stranger urge which was trying to make her lick her hands to relieve the anxiety she was feeling. She gave in to trying to smother herself with the pillow.

It was two hours later that Snape reappeared, floating two cauldrons behind him. Hermione hoped they didn't contain the remains of her two best friends. It was about an hour and a half ago that she had given up all hope of them getting away scot-free, or for her potion to wear off by itself.

Snape set both cauldrons beside her bed, and she could see that one was hers, and was packed full of all of her things which had been left in the girl's bathroom. The other was much smaller and contained about a pint of grey sludge, with burnt black flecks. It looked even worse than the Polyjuice had.

Hermione balked at the idea of drinking it.

Snape summoned a bowl from the other side of the Hospital Wing, filled it with a ladleful of the sludge and handed it to Hermione, along with a spoon.

"Eat that." He said, folding his arms forebodingly.

It's not so bad looking like a cat, Hermione thought.

But she picked up the spoon anyway, held her breath and ate about a quarter of a spoonful. The texture was so horrible that she almost spat it straight out again. It felt like it was moving in her mouth! She swallowed it, with a great effort and looked despairingly at the size of the bowl.

A glance at Snape showed that he wasn't going to relent.

She took another spoonful, a larger one and tried to eat it as quickly as possible. Bleh- it tasted like wet, grated soap. She followed it by another, and another, eager to get this over with as soon as possible. When she had eaten about half the bowl in this frantic way, it was suddenly pulled from her hands.

"That will do, you have had the appropriate dose."

Hermione thought she might throw up, and pressed her hands to her face, exclaiming in shock as fur came away in her fingers. She turned to check her tail, but there was no sign of it. And when she felt for them, her ears had moved back to their rightful place, except they were still a little pointy.

"Thank you, Sir!"

"I suggest you have a shower to get rid of some of that mess. I expect you in my office in no more than 30 minutes. Fur, or no fur, is that clear?"

Damn. "It's clear, sir."

"Good. And I would prefer Gryffindor robes, if you please." Snape left, taking the smaller cauldron with him.

Hermione put her head in her hands for a long minute, trying to get herself under control. Pomfrey appeared by the side of the bed, forcing Hermione to look up, and she presented the girl with a towel and herded her in the direction of the Hospital Wing shower room.

That was the most unpleasant shower of Hermione's life. She had to stop twice to unblock the plughole from all of the fur that was coming off her. She was still finding the little hairs as she put on her own clothes and robes and suspected she would be finding them for about a week. Cat hairs were almost as bad as glitter for sticking around unwanted.

Still, nobody made any comments as she made her way down to the dungeons, so it couldn't be that obvious that she'd spent three hours that day as half a cat.

She was under no illusions about why Snape had summoned her to his office. So far this year, Hermione had managed to avoid running afoul of the man. Ron and Harry had, of course, when they had flown to school. Neither of them had been able to sit comfortably through the first days of classes. And they had said that when Dumbledore was there, he had authorised Snape to hit them six times each, saying it was a serious matter. And she had a feeling that Snape considered this serious.

She had to rush down the stairs to the dungeon to make it to his office in time, and then almost made herself late anyway by dithering outside the office door.

Steeled to deal with whatever Snape had to throw at her, she knocked on the door, and it opened almost instantly.

Snape was right there and he stood to one side, holding the door for her to come in.

Hermione's step faltered in the doorway as she saw who else was in the room. Snape simply waited for her to get moving again before closing the door behind her with finality.

The small office was quite crowded. As well as Snape, Professor McGonagall was in one of the student seats, beside the fireplace. Even more disconcerting was Professor Dumbledore, who was sitting in Snape's seat behind the desk.

Hermione felt strange being in trouble without Harry and Ron being there to sort of buffer the brunt of it.

Hermione stopped herself a few steps short of the potion master's desk. She took a quiet, steadying breath, and held onto her elbows with trembling hands.

"Please explain why you have done this." Dumbledore said. His eyes full of a disappointment which made Hermione want to physically recoil.

"I-" Hermione's eyes filled with tears, but she brushed them away impatiently with the sleeve of her robe. Ron and Harry wouldn't cry. And it would just be embarrassing when she remembered this later.

"We wanted to know about the Chamber and the heir. And nobody's telling us anything! But obviously someone knows, and it might've been stupid, but we had to find out something."

"Why did you not come to a professor with your concerns, Miss Granger?" McGonagall asked sharply.

"Nobody did anything last year." Hermione said, somewhat angrily. She forced herself to look at McGonagall and saw hurt, rather than anger in the witch's eyes. She had to look away again, and accidentally caught Snape's eyes. He was definitely angry.

Snape pulled something lumpy out of his pocket and unwrapped paper from around the outside. Hermione recognised it as the remains of her glass of potion. Snape placed it on the desk, between Hermione and Dumbledore. The headmaster took it up, and tilted it, watching the liquid curiously.

"The Polyjuice?" His forehead furrowed, and he sniffed at the glass, "Or not… I believed it had been successfully brewed?"

Hermione was shocked, didn't the professors know what had happened? She had assumed they did and that was why they were all so angry.

"It was exceptionally brewed." Snape said, snidely. "It was foolishly executed."

"Perhaps if Miss Granger could talk us through from the top?" Dumbledore said.

Hermione thought that she probably couldn't.

"We- I-" She couldn't really get through this without implicating Ron and Harry at multiple points.

"We have already had Words with Potter and Weasley about this incident." McGonagall provided.

Hermione blinked and nodded, she had rather thought that might be the case.

"We thought that if anyone knew who the heir of Slytherin was, then it was probably Malfoy. He's been bragging about it for weeks, so we thought it would be worth finding out what he did know."

The professors watched her, but made no comment.

"Well, I thought that the only people he would really tell would be Crabbe and Goyle. And I had read about Polyjuice potion in One Hundred Non-Magical Creatures for Potioneering – it's in their section on lacewing flies. I got the instructions from a book from the library-"

"How?" Snape asked.

"Sir?"

"How did you obtain the instructions, Miss Granger? You will not find any instructions on the student shelves."

"Oh… Professor Lockhart gave me a pass for the restricted section."

"Did he autograph it?" Snape asked snidely.

"Ye-es… I'm not sure he actually read it…"

Snape and McGonagall shared a look, but Dumbledore was unfazed "Please continue, Miss Granger. The ingredients?"

Hermione closed her eyes for a moment. Wondering how slowly Snape was going to kill her.

"I… orchestrated a distraction in potions class. Then I stole them from your ingredients store."

"Orchestrated here meaning you had Potter create a dangerous explosion with a firework in the middle of a practical lesson? One which injured multiple Slytherin students." Snape said.

Hermione nodded, mutely, feeling strangely lightheaded, sure all the blood had drained from her face. Snape, already furious, twisted his mouth, as if he was fighting to keep from shouting.

Dumbledore interceded, "Please continue."

"We spent loads of time brewing it of course. It worked out quite well for daytime brewing actually, so we were never really out of bounds. We signed up to stay over the holidays since we knew there would be less people around and Crabbe, Goyle and Malfoy were all staying."

Snape was fishing in his robes pocket again and he brought out a tiny, horribly familiar chocolate cake.

"Crabbe and Goyle?"

Hermione gulped, glancing around at the faces of the professors, all of which seemed particularly stern at the moment.

"I brewed a low strength sleeping potion yesterday." Hermione said slowly. "We knew Malfoy would talk to his friends. I was going to be Millicent Bulstrode, but I got the wrong hairs. It wouldn't have helped if I'd been there anyway. He wouldn't believe she came back from home, and it's not like he even really talks to her..."

"Are you a healer, Miss Granger." Hermione shook her head at Snape's sharp interruption. "An apothecary, perhaps? Licenced potioneer? Mediwitch?"

"No, Sir."

"Granger, if you ever give anyone so much as own-brewed burn paste before obtaining an outstanding OWL in potions, I will personally ensure you never step foot into any potions laboratory ever again. Do you understand me?"

"Yes, Sir." Hermione drew back a step. She didn't think she'd ever seen Snape so angry. Including when that firework had gone off in his class. Although it was comforting in a bizarre way that he thought there was even a slight chance she wouldn't be expelled from Hogwarts and the entire wizarding community.

"Miss Granger." Hermione's eyes flew to the Headmaster, flickering briefly back to Snape. She'd almost forgotten that Dumbledore was here.

"How many school rules do you think you have broken over the last month, in this endeavour?"

She blinked slowly, school rules were somewhat subjective in many instances "Just over twenty."

Snape's hand flew to the bridge of his nose with an aggravated sound.

Dumbledore nodded, "And how many laws?"

"Six." She had counted.

Snape started pacing the room behind her, Hermione didn't look back. McGonagall's expression was exasperated enough, and she looked very stern.

Dumbledore gave a sigh, "Is the matter of the Chamber of Secrets so important to you, Miss Granger?"

Hermione looked at the headmaster like he was slightly mad. "Whatever is in there is petrifying students!" She said in a rush, "Muggleborn students- like me. If it had been Malfoy, then I'm the muggleborn who annoys him most. People say that the monster I the chamber has killed before. What if I'm next!"

Snape had stopped pacing and was watching her along with the others.

"I love Hogwarts, and I would rather be here than anywhere. But Harry almost died last year with Quirrell. And he has almost died in two Quidditch matches because someone has it out for him. Magic is magical," she gasped, tears coming to her eyes again. "But I don't want to die because you don't take it seriously."

There was silence in the room.

Hermione was breathing quite heavily, somewhat astounded that she had said all of that in front of the three senior Professors. To be fair, they looked astonished too. She tugged on her hair, nervous all over again.

"What could you have done differently?"

Hermione glared at Snape. She hated his stupid questions.

"Realised that Malfoy couldn't have been the heir. That our chance of not being caught was exceedingly low. We could have bought those ingredients via postal order, and used someone else's hair."

"That's not good enough, Miss Granger. Less flippancy, and a legal answer, if you please."

"Gone to Professor McGonagall about the chamber instead of Binns. And reported Malfoy's threats to someone."

Snape held her gaze for a long moment, before turning to the Headmaster for his verdict.

"I believe we will leave the matter of punishment to Professor Snape." Dumbledore said after a moment. "I will warn you that had you been any older, you would definitely have received a suspension over this matter, and possibly expulsion. It would be a shame to lose such a talented witch as yourself through base carelessness."

Hermione nodded, hands trembling.

"As you were the mastermind behind this scheme, Misters Potter and Weasley have not been expelled for this incident."

Hermione started, she hadn't even considered that!

"Should there be another such incident, I cannot vouch for any of you continuing at Hogwarts. I will also be writing to your parents to inform them of this incident."

Hermione nodded and apologised to the old headmaster. Her eyes were wet all over again, as she thought of how disappointed her mum and dad were going to be. They had only had a couple of letters home before, but those had been harder to understand with their talk of Philosopher's stones and dragons. Endangering others and drugging students were things they could understand and be unhappy about.

Dumbledore picked up a quill from Snape's desk, inked it, and scratched something very brief on a scrap of parchment, before rising. Professor McGonagall followed him and they both left, leaving Hermione alone with the potion's master.

The door closed with a firm click, before Snape came over to lean against the edge of his desk, Hermione watched him cautiously.

"You have been incredibly foolish." He stated.

"I know, Sir."

"I am not sure that you do." Snape said, his gaze flickering between her two eyes. "You realise how many students could have been seriously injured during this stupid scheme of yours? Anyone in that potions class, Misters Crabbe and Goyle. Potter and Weasley. Your own fool self."

"Do you have any idea how lucky you are that it was only ears and a tail which you developed from a cat? I am not certain what we could have done if it had affected your organs. As it is you are lucky you have no spinal damage from the removal of the tail. The potion is not suitable for animal transformations."

Hermione hadn't realised all of that, and felt all the more stupid for it.

"Added to that, this wasn't a spur-of-the moment madness. You planned this for over a month! Long enough for you to research and catalogue exactly which laws you were breaking."

"Yes, Sir- I am sorry."

"Good. If I thought you weren't…"

There was silence for a long moment, and Snape glanced over his shoulder at whatever Dumbledore had written before leaving. An eyebrow quirked slightly.

"You know why you were brought here to discuss your punishment, of course. Additionally, your library privileges are revoked. You are not permitted to withdraw books from the library without a written permission form – from Professor McGonagall. That goes for Potter and Weasley too."

Hermione bit her lip, shamed at being outwitted before the thought had even formed properly in her head.

"I am going to reiterate that you are not to use a potion you have brewed yourself, or give such to another to use with or without their knowledge, until you are of age."

"Yes, Sir."

"You may consider yourself in detention for the remainder of the holidays. You will present yourself at the infirmary daily after breakfast. If Madam Pomfrey runs out of tasks for you, you will come to me instead."

"Yes, Sir."

Snape sighed and pulled the student ledger across the table. It was already open at the right page.

Hermione fidgeted nervously with her sleeves. She was not anxious for the next part of their meeting.

Snape picked up the quill which the headmaster had put down and scratched out a few notes along the line, filling out an entry for Hermione for this new year. He held it out to her when he was done.

Hermione took a few unsteady steps forward. Her eyes flickered to Ron and Harry's entries, right at the top of the page, there was a little five written beside each. Her eyes scanned down to her own name at the bottom of the list. Eight.

She blinked at the page, those five little letters evoking real fear. Snape had said himself that they only gave up to six to younger students. The boys had only had six at the beginning of the year. Did Snape really think what she had done really worse than flying a car to school?

She wanted to question it. But didn't want the professor to think she didn't know how serious they were being. Snape coughed impatiently, but Hermione still couldn't make herself move.

The man reached across the desk and pulled a sheet of paper towards her. It must have been the one that Dumbledore wrote on before leaving. She looked, as it was obviously for her benefit. Two little figures stood out on the blank parchment – 10.

Hermione signed quickly.

Snape gave a light huff of laughter and Hermione gave him a less than polite look. Snape arched an eyebrow before he tamed his expression to a more sombre one.

"Remove your robe, empty your back pockets and bend over the desk, please."

Hermione did so quickly. She realised that if she really stretched, then she could reach the far side of the table, and gripped it with her fingertips. She started in surprise as the table suddenly narrowed itself in response to a charm by Snape. It did become much more comfortable to stand, however.

"I will count aloud." Snape warned her.

She felt the warning tap of the cane against her backside, then-

Crack! "One." Oh, that was sore!

Crack! "Two." Hermione had forgotten how bad this felt. It was about eight months since she had had her last trip over this desk.

Crack! "Ah!" "Three."

There was a beat where Snape didn't move. Hermione blinked tears out of her eyes, not caring if they fell anymore.

Thwack. "Four."

Hermione clenched her teeth and groaned quietly.

Thwack! "OW!" "Five."

There was a longer pause. Hermione hadn't been holding her breath that time and had been unable to stop the reflex shout of pain as she usually did. Snape let her catch her breath before continuing. Unfortunately this meant he was staring to hit the same places he had before.

Crack. "Ah!" "Six."

Thwack. Hermione's knees buckled a little after this hit. "Seven. Almost there, keep still."

Crack! "Eight." Hermione groaned into the hot wood of the desk beneath her face. It was all wet from her tears, too. Click- the cane was put down on the desk beside Hermione and she glared at it half-heartedly.

"Take a moment," Snape said, and a handkerchief appeared beside her hand. "But you may rise when you are ready."

She thought she must be a sight, with red eyes and snot all down her nose. She wiped off her face, and then the table, before blowing her nose into the hankie.

Snape had withdrawn, as he always did, and was acting as if he was engrossed in the student ledger. Hermione suspected he wasn't, and was grateful that he had the tact to let her pull herself back together again.

She pulled her robe back on, careful to tie it loosely. She closed her eyes, thinking despairingly of the eight flights of stairs it took to get to the common room. Maybe there was a shortcut for part of the way?

"Granger." Snape was watching her again, and she felt human enough now to return his gaze.

"I feel someone ought to remind you that being a Gryffindor, and a Muggleborn does not automatically preclude you from being a bad person."

Hermione frowned, "Of course not, Professor."

"I mean, Miss Granger, that we are all the heroes in our own stories. That means we all have the responsibility to ensure that we do not stray from the right path."

Hermione just blinked.

"Even the Dark Lord and Grindelwald saw themselves as the hero." Snape pressed his point. "Professor Dumbledore sees himself as the hero. So does Harry Potter, Mr Malfoy, Percy Weasley, Mr Filch. We all have a responsibility to make sure that our actions are the right ones, and to check where we do more harm than good. Do you understand?"

"I will when I think it through, Sir."

"See that you do. You have the capacity to cause a great deal of harm if you do not take care."

"Do you think so, Sir?"

Snape's eyes narrowed dangerously, and Hermione's opened impossibly wide as she realised how that could be construed.

"Oh no! I didn't mean- That was a stupid thing to say…" Hermione trailed off, blushing furiously.

Snape scrutinised her for another long moment, then sighed impatiently, waving a dismissive hand. "You may go. As to your other concerns, it has been months since the last attack, but try to travel in a group, especially when classes restart. You may speak to Professor McGonagall at any time and she will do her best to aid and reassure you. We are looking into the matter, and if you have any reasonable theories, we should be relieved to hear them. In the meantime, please try to not initiate the next apocalypse."

"Yes, Sir…"

Hermione scuttled out into the corridor, closing the door behind her. She took a second to look around for other students before trying to rub some relief into her backside. It didn't help. She groaned, feet automatically carrying her towards the closest passageway. It should save her three flights of stairs, but meant she had to walk an extra couple of corridors to get to the common room.

She was glad that there were still students returning from dinner, she wouldn't have felt nearly as safe if there had been nobody about.

Hermione was looking forward to lying on the comfy common room couches – reserved in Gryffindor for those who had been up against the cane of a Housemaster- and sharing sugary Christmas presents with her friends, while they complained about Snape, and tried to forget all about Heirs, and monsters and Malfoy for a few hours.