Summary: AU, SSHG, As young dental students, they hadn't always had a steady income, so her parents got her a few things as a baby they had no idea would affect the remainder of her life.

Beta Love: Dragon and the Rose, Dutchgirl01

A/N: Once this fever breaks, it'll be back to work, so there will be fewer if any updates for a while.


Imagination

Tell me and I forget. Teach me and I remember. Involve me and I learn.

Benjamin Franklin


"Welcome to the Department of Mysteries," Amelia said kindly as she pinned the special apprentice and identification pin to the front of Hermione's robes. "I hope that you and Severus find your feet here with ease."

Bruce whuffed, tail wagging as all three heads sniffed around to take in all the new scents. He sported new collars on each neck, each with shiny new tags that shifted back and forth from Greek to English.

"Will Master Snape be okay?" Hermione asked. She stared into the infirmary where a hulking creature that seemed like a dragon and a bat got together and terrorised ancient mankind was breathing on Professor Snape.

"Manfred is our best healer, pet," Amelia said. "He'll take excellent care of him."

Hermione rugged Walter around herself, and he warmed for her. A Dark cloud of magic swirled around her, and Hermione smiled. "I believe in him. Professor Snape is just a very private person," she said after a while. "He doesn't trust anyone very much."

Amelia nodded. "I know, dear," she replied. "But he truly believes in you, and we believe in him despite what some of the outside world believes."

"Why is it hurting him?" Hermione asked, tugging Walter tighter.

"There is some very insidious magic binding him to certain others," Amelia said. "Like the bond between you as his apprentice only— less natural. Less benign in nature."

Hermione placed a hand on the divider wall. "I think I felt some of it when he was fighting it. When I said, erm, those awful things to the Headmaster."

Amelia smiled at her. "It's okay. If anything, it shows the strength of your bond that you inadvertently gave voice to Severus' potty mouth."

Hermione blushed sheepishly. "Okay. He was very angry."

"He had good reason," Amelia said. "I've never seen a man with so many wills forced upon them."

"Your elders are supposed to protect you," Hermione said.

Amelia sighed. "Yes, we are."

Hermione's expression darkened. "Professor Dumbledore is not a very good elder."

Amelia let out a short bark of laughter. "You are correct. He is not."

"Madam Bones?"

"Yes, Hermione?"

"Why did Madam Umbridge call me a Mudblood?"

Amelia scowled. "That was very rude of her."

"But what does it mean?"

"It's a bad name for an erroneous concept among some that being Muggleborn somehow makes you less magical. Less deserving," Amelia explained.

Hermione frowned. "She's one to talk. Her magic is dull and stunted like an old tree stump."

Amelia burst out laughing. "Oh, Hermione. You're so right, but you probably shouldn't say that to her face either. Madam Umbridge is a very high-ranking person at the Ministry, and we have to play nice even if she won't."

"That's pretty contradictory," Hermione remarked, a frown tugging at her face.

"But unfortunately necessary," she said.

"Can't we just take the curse out of her like they are doing with my master?"

Amelia blinked. "What curse, child?"

"It's black and stuck where her heart is," Hermione said. "Walter says it looks like delicious emotions she is trying to hide from everyone. Can he eat it?"

Amelia blinked. "Let me get back to you on that, okay, Hermione?"

"Okay, no snacking on Umbridge for now, Walter."

The Lethifold rustled with disappointment.

"He says okay," Hermione relayed, "but he doesn't like it. She looks delicious."

Amelia smiled. "I don't either, my dear, but we can't just eat people we don't like."

"What if they attack you first?"

"That's different," Amelia replied. "That is self-defence."

Hermione smiled. "Okay!"

Walter seemed to unruffle, relaxing around Hermione's shoulders in a light drape.

"Have you always been able to hear Walter's thoughts?" Amelia asked.

Hermione's eyes widened. "Of course. He taught me how to speak."

Amelia blinked. "Oh?"

Hermione tilted her head. She pointed at her head. "Up here, I mean. Sometimes he tells me to watch my language out loud, too."

Amelia laughed. "That's very good of him."

Hermione beamed. "He's always been with me. I thought everyone had someone like Walter."

Amelia shook her head. "No, most people would consider a Lethifold very dangerous to everyone."

"That's silly," Hermione said. "He's always protected me from things that are dangerous. Like traffic. And poisonous mushrooms."

"He teaches you about mushrooms?"

Hermione hung her head. "I used to like to put things in my mouth when I was little."

"That's pretty normal for babies," Amelia said. "My niece would chew on my sister's broom if given half a chance."

Hermione's eyes widened, and she smiled. "Does she have someone like Walter?"

"Just her parents, I fear, Amelia said. "Walter is very special, Hermione. We've taken care to register him as your familiar so no one can take him away from you, but there are people out there that wouldn't understand. They'd only fear him if they knew."

Hermione frowned. "Like being afraid of the dark?"

"Sort of," Amelia replied. "The unknown scares most people. Muggle or magical, people are much the same in that."

There was a low thump as a giant dragonbat head shoved open the door as the rest of his mass followed in a blur of fur,scale, and wing. "Twas quite an extensive amount of nefarious spellwork on him, Amelia," the creature rumbled. "Enough to scare the typical youth into never getting a tattoo at the very least."

He set down a canister on the nearby counter. The container was formed of transparent crystal with highly intricate runes carved into the sides. Inside the sealed vessel, a dark ink-like "something" sloshed within as though it were alive. It formed into a skull and snake pattern and then shifted into a man's oddly serpentine face.

Hermione huddled under Walter's soothing warmth, her brown eyes very wide. "Okay, now that's scary!"

Amelia frowned deeply, her face wrinkling in concern. "What in Merlin's name did you take out of him, Manfred?"

"That was in his arm, but it was anchored directly to his magic. The other spells were also anchored to his magic. They were all very determined to stay. I convinced them to leave."

"Dare I ask how?"

"You could," the dragonbat replied with a huff of purple vapour escaping his nostrils. "I simply removed all of his magic so it had nothing to anchor onto, and then I put it back. He might have a seriously intense craving for tropical fruit for a while, though."

Amelia stared at Manfred.

"What? You said to do everything possible to ensure he survived!"

"I'm not sure I was thinking to drain all of a man's magic and then put it back!"

Manfred sniffed. "My mistake," he rumbled.

There was a mild thump as Hermione leapt up and hugged Manfred tightly. "Thank you for saving him."

The dragonbat purred softly. "You are welcome, child. Severus is a survivor. He deserves to be free to make his own choices whether they be mistakes or otherwise."

Amelia sighed, shaking her head. "How is it that the scariest dragonbat probably in the history of all dragonbats gets all the love and hugs?"

"I always have love and hugs to spare," Manfred said, nuzzling Hermione tenderly.

"I shouldn't feel so jealous," Amelia sighed.

Manfred smiled, all fang. "How could one not covet such a perfect form and supreme cohesiveness of magic?"

"I can at least go to the greengrocer and not cause a panicked stampede in my true form," Amelia quipped.

"This fine form evolved long before greengroceries," Manfred said, tucking Hermione against him with one wing. She and Walter seemed perfectly content to stay there. "She seems perfectly apt to accept the benefits," he said smugly.

"You were spawned in the very depths of the Primordial Darkness, Manfred," Amelia muttered.

"You make it sound like that's a bad thing."

Manfred tightened his wing around Hermione and Walter. "Some of us are weaned on the Darkness, love. We become whatever we need to be, whatever shape or form or purpose that may prove to be."

"And what do you think that would mean for her?" Amelia asked.

Manfred smiled. "Survival."


"That's impossible."

"Simply improbable."

"A leopard cannot change its spots."

Hermione stayed glued to her master's side to occasionally assist him with tasks like eating and reading his rather long list of angry correspondence. She transcribed his replies with a neat hand, used his seal on the parchment, and signed her name as his apprentice as she was taught.

Whatever Snape had gone through, she knew it had been highly exhausting, and sometimes he would wake up, clutch his left arm, and then bust up laughing hysterically only to eagerly accept some of the fresh-made fruit mash that Master Morgan had told her to give him whenever he was awake.

The new culinary spells fascinated her, and she was able to make a fruit mash or smoothie in a few seconds flat. So, while her master worked on the mash, she sipped her mango smoothie, and they settled into another, new routine of comfort.

Her master's mail was quite often riddled with hate, and she wondered if a few of them were from the loudmouthed Scotsman outside the infirmary. Walter had taught her how to devour curses and make a meal of them, and quite a few tasty meals came out of simply answering Snape's mail.

After having caught her doing so, the Lethifold's patient and thorough instruction was a rather bizarre sight to anyone that might be watching, Snape could only laugh again.

She rather liked his smile. He seemed much younger when he did. Less stern and—

Well, glowering.

Slowly, he'd been getting stronger, and there was a new sort of life about him that she'd never sensed before. While she hadn't known him very long, he seemed to be getting to know himself for the first time as well. She thought that kind of odd, but Walter told her that not everyone had the advantage of being accepted and loved when they were young.

Hermione thought that was a bit sad, and she hunkered down under Walter's warmth for quite some time trying to not think too uncharitably of people who would treat their children badly. She never doubted that her parents loved her, after all. They were often very busy, but they did their best to see that she always had access to amusements, museum passes, and a current library card.

Despite his reputation, Hermione had soon found that her master had a rather soft and pleasing voice whenever he wasn't dripping venom on imbeciles. He gave her myriad tasks to work on and had her read her essays out loud to him, correcting her as well as letting her trip over her own words to allow her to realise when she had been a little too wordy.

Sometimes, she'd think he wasn't really listening, his eyes closed as she read off her essays, only to have him make a sudden comment on what she'd just said or ask her a question related to the chapter she had just gone over. He was a lot like Walter in that he was always paying close attention to her, even when she thought he wasn't.

The loud voice from out in the main hall came in with a crash of the door slamming hard against the wall as the poor abused door stopper made a twanngngngngngngh sound.

"Snape," the voice snarled.

Bruce perked to attention at once, all three heads startled from his sound, comfortable sleep. He adjusted his bulk, the swish of his tail causing the (thankfully empty) bed near him to abruptly be displaced.

"Corrupting innocent young girls to do your bidding?" the brown-robed man demanded, his face red with fury. "Albus told me you'd stolen a student away from Hogwarts."

"Hardly," Snape's voice said calmly. He lay in the bed, pale as ever, but his expression was more than weary.

Hermione frowned, unsure of how to act. Her master's response was weary as if he had expected such treatment and such foul accusations.

"I'm taking her back with me to Hogwarts where she belongs!"

"She is my apprentice," Snape informed him coolly. "She stays at my side by both choice and agreement."

"Apprentice, my bleedin' arse," the other man growled scornfully. "You couldn't scrape up a measure of tolerance for a child, let alone take one on as an apprentice."

Snape winced as he struggled to sit up in bed. "As much as our witty repartee fills the holes in my soul, Auror Moody, I fear I am in no condition to fight with you today."

"Good, then I'm taking the girl back where she belongs."

"I belong here," Hermione informed him, scowling up at the rude man. "Talking about me like I'm not even here is considered extremely rude."

"So is talking back to your elders, lass," Moody groused.

Hermione narrowed her eyes at him. "I give respect where respect is given." She gently rubbed her cloak, and a dim purple haze passed between her fingers like mist.

"Apprentice."

"Yes, Master?"

"Please fetch me a headache potion."

"Yes, Master." Hermione left to find one of the healers to obtain the requested potion.

Severus propped himself up in the bed and sighed. "Do not make my apprentice feel out of sorts, Auror Moody. She has just managed to come out of her shell in a place that accepts her for who she is rather than what."

"If she had more time to settle, she'd have plenty of friends at Hogwarts," Moody snorted.

"I doubt that."

"It doesn't matter what you think, Snape," Moody said. "A Death Eater is hardly a good judge of character. Dumbledore said Madam Bones just whisked her away from a good magical education."

Snape scoffed. "You think that old man just wants her to have a 'good magical education? Pull the other one."

"Dumbledore is a hundred times more trustworthy than you, Snape." Moody narrowed his eyes. "I'm taking her back to Hogwarts where she belongs. Far away from a bloody damned Death Eater like you."

"Oh, I think I'm far worse than a Death Eater now, Mr Moody," Severus said grimly. "The process of removing the Vow and other interesting magicks from my body had some rather interesting side effects."

"What Vow other than that accused tattoo?" Moody growled.

"The one that swore me to Dumbledore's service in exchange for his aid in saving Lily Potter from death. Only, he didn't save her at all, did he? Not that it mattered to the Vow, of course. My promise made in youth and sheer desperation to save a childhood friend. There were a number of other spells tacked onto the Vow as well. Insidious magic hitching a ride for the 'greater good'."

"If Dumbledore did anything, Snape, it was to keep you under his watchful eye since you cannot be trusted."

Snape snorted. "I think you need to re-evaluate just who is manipulating whom. Regardless of what you might think, Miss Granger is far safer and better off here than anywhere near that magical school. Which is precisely why Amelia brought us here."

Hermione walked back in with a small crystal phial clutched in her hand. "Master Healer Elderberry said this one would work better for your new metabolism, Ma—hrk!" Her words were cut off abruptly as Moody lunged and grabbed her by the arm. The potion phial went flying and crashed to the floor, shattering in an impressive spray of bright blue medicine and crystalline shards.

The floor shook with the power of a ferocious triple-layered snarl as Bruce suddenly stood up from where he had been waiting patiently for Hermione's return. Hermione whimpered in pain as Moody's grip tightened further on her arm. Her cloak rustled only once before it suddenly rose up, multiple rows of what looked like teeth forming on the bottom surface as it launched itself at Moody, engulfing the top of his head and throwing him down to the ground with a vibrating snarl.

Hermione hastily scrambled away only to slam into the hulking obsidian-furred and winged mass of a recently shifted, highly annoyed, dragonbat. She flung her arms around his neck and clung to him like a batling, trembling and whimpering even as poor Bruce tried to determine which part of the writhing mess of homicidal Lethifold victim to chomp on.

"ENOUGH!" came a deep scree of anger as the massive bulk of Manfred Morgan pushed into the infirmary.

Bruce immediately sat down, and Walter zoomed back over to Hermione and tucked himself in around her even as she was tucked into Snape's side like a living burr.

"I do not recall inviting you to my infirmary, Auror Moody," the dragonbat growled down at Moody's crumpled body. There were a great many small bites taken out of his skin, much as if a hundred thousand pissed off cats had all taken chomps from his craggy flesh.

"Nor do I recall that there was ever any such clause in the Auror handbook that allowed one such as you to heedlessly barge into a place of healing and manhandle the young apprentice of a member of the Department of Mysteries."

"He's a bloody Death Eater!" Moody wheezed, his harsh breaths coming in painful gasps. "And the girl belongs back in school."

"Contrary to what you might prefer to believe, Auror Moody," Manfred said as he nosed Snape's protective wing out of the way and carefully checked Hermione for damage, a snort of purple mist escaping his nostrils. "The apprenticeship system has worked quite well since long before Hogwarts even existed. Merlin himself learned from someone, and it was not in a school."

Moody, clearly struggling after the attack, groaned and collapsed.

"Severus, congratulations on assimilating into a most superior form," Manfred said, not skipping a beat as he tucked Hermione back under Snape's new wing. "Your new quarters are ready," he added. "I would recommend a slow wing walk out to avoid getting stuck in doors and knocking over the more fragile trees in the arboretum. Mr Greenbriar would be in tears."

Snape, a little discombobulated, lowered his head to snuffle Hermione's bushy head, nostrils flaring. "I did not expect—" he trailed off.

"Our species is highly protective of our homes and our 'people' as it were," Manfred said. "It was only natural that your abilities would manifest during a time when someone or something of value to you was threatened."

A few other healers shuffled in, summoned by the noise or by Manfred's call. They tended to the wounded Moody with baffled faces as if they weren't really sure where to start.

"Take care to clean the bites thoroughly," Manfred instructed them, "before applying the healing salve and dressing loosely. Continue to flush the wounds for the next few days before we start administering the regrowth potions in case of infection. Lethifolds often have toxins mixed with their paralytics, and we don't have any cultures on hand of Walter's specific attack cocktail to make a treatment yet."

"Yes, Master Healer," the other healers said, nodding as they levitated Moody up and away to a treatment bed.

"Now, young lady," Manfred said as he wrinkled his nose. "Make sure Severus gets back to your quarters without incident, yes?"

Hermione nodded silently. "Yes, Master Morgan."

"Good, we'll take care of Mr Moody," Manfred said with a curl of his muzzle into a grimace. "I'll have food sent to feed both you and Severus and Walter, of course. Contrary to what Walter might think, eating Mr Moody would probably cause terrible indigestion."

Severus tentatively moved his changed body, instinctively going slow so as to not dislodge his young passenger.

Manfred smiled as the pair left the infirmary together before turning his attention to Alastor Moody.

"Many believe that those who are Dark in nature have no feelings or compassion, but what does it say about those of the supposed light who cannot see the truth even when it bites you thoroughly on the arse?"


"Master Morgan?"

"Hrm?"

"If Aurors are supposed to investigate crimes, don't they have to have proof that someone committed one?"

The dragonbat paused in the demolishing of a juicy mango and scratched one ear with his wing spur. "Technically, yes, they do."

"Then why does Auror Moody keep coming after my master when he hasn't done anything?"

"Good or bad, our past can often follow us through life, child," Manfred said. "And sometimes, those like Mr Moody choose to fixate on our mistakes and refuse to believe that one has the capacity for change."

"Mum and dad say that life is all about making mistakes and learning from them. No one is perfect. Mum says I try too hard to be perfect, but that's impossible."

Manfred smiled. "Your parents sound like very rational people."

Hermione beamed. "They're dentists!"

"If one looks throughout history, people have made many mistakes throughout the ages. One need only compare modern magic, medicine, and science to what once was to see how far we have come but also how those can judge others based solely on appearance and rumour rather than character and deeds."

Hermione picked a mango off the pile having finally decided which one to take. She sniffed it experimentally and smiled. Walter rustled, and she held the mango out to him.

The Lethifold covered it for a few seconds and then withdrew, leaving her with a perfectly peeled mango, ready to eat.

Hermione beamed. "Thank you, Walter!" She promptly tucked into the fruity prize.

"I think I'm a little jealous," Manfred said with a chuckle.

Walter rustled and descended on the pile of tropical goodness and withdrew, leaving a giant pile of neatly skinned fruits.

Manfred laughed. "Thank you, my friend. You can take some of these back to your quarters for Severus. I'm sure he's hungry but trying to ignore it."

Hermione finished up her fruit and used the spell she had learned to sink the pit into the earth. "Okay." She smiled at the dragonbat. "Thank you for lunch, Master Morgan!"

"You are welcome," he rumbled, chuckling as the young witch unabashedly hugged him, wrapping her arms around his maned neck and snuggling into his fur.

Hermione grabbed the hamper of fruits and took them with her as Manfred watched her go.

"She is a very well-adjusted child, as you can see," Manfred said as Moody stepped out from the nearby tree. "No sign of the corruption you are so fond of seeing wherever you look."

Moody's body was still heavily bandaged, the herbal scent of healing balm lingering around him. "A Lethifold is an XXXXX creature. Dark as they come. Dangerous in the extreme."

"Does that Lethifold look dangerous to you?"

"It doesn't matter what it looks like! It's a bloody XXXXX creature!"

"So am I," Manfred pointed out, baring his fearsome teeth. "Yet I healed you despite my opinion of your worth. If I were to judge you on appearance alone, I would think you were an aging wizard with an axe to grind who holds onto grudges forever, even long after he's forgotten the reason for them."

Moody's face wrinkled as he struggled. "Dark wizards don't ever change."

Manfred's muzzle pulled back into a snarl. "Now, you listen to me and you listen well, Auror Moody. If you truly believe that people cannot ever make mistakes and learn from them, then you go and ask Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore about what really happened between him and his sister, Ariana. Ask him about the beach where he, Grindelwald, his brother, and his sister all came but only three left alive. Then, if he actually tells you the truth, come back and tell me about grave mistakes in life and the people who make them. He's still making his mistakes, Mr Moody. Severus is learning from his, and you would do well to remember that. I would not have been able to remove his Mark otherwise. I would not have been able to save his life."

"That's impossible."

"Improbable, yes. Impossible, no."

"How?"

"Complicated, but—" Manfred sniffed. "Severus was willing to give up all that he was to escape two masters and keep his promise to a young witch to keep her safe."

"Lily Potter is dead," Moody groused.

"You're an idiot, Auror Moody," Manfred snapped. "That young witch is his apprentice. The ghosts of past wrongs is a chain that your perfect Dumbledore is all too knowledgeable about. Obviously, if he told you about it at all."

Moody bawked, shaking his head in denial.

"Go talk to Aberforth in the Hogshead," Manfred said. "Tell him that Manfred asked you to go to him for the truth. Ask him to drink that truth potion or Veritas or what have you. Then go and chew on the answers you get. By the way, if you dare barge into my infirmary and assault my patients again, I swear that I will burst your eardrums and then forget how to heal them."

"Master Morgan! Master Morgan!" a group of children cried as they ran up. "It's time for our lessons!"

"Well, who am I to deny learning?" Manfred rumbled as he allowed the children to cling to him. "Hang on."

The children all clung on tight to him, chest, neck, and back, giggling with excitement. Manfred whispered a sticking charm to them and launched into the air, his massive wingbeats causing twisters of air to shove Moody hard against the wall. The dragonbat flew off to the heart of the DoM's arboretum leaving Alastor Moody behind to contemplate his life choices.


Hermione tried not to giggle as her master got mango pulp all over himself in an attempt to navigate his mouth over the fruit.

"Auror Moody was watching me again," she said soberly, her shoulders wilting. "He didn't try anything because Master Morgan was there."

"It is good you could spot him despite his attempt to not be seen," Severus said as he licked the pulp from his muzzle. "It is also good that you tell me when you do. He is a dangerous man, and while I do not think he means you hard, specifically, he may hurt you none the less for his convictions."

Hermione pulled Walter around her shoulders and nodded.

"Have you finished your homework?"

"Yes, Master."

"Your essays?"

"Yes, Master."

"Did you make them concise?"

Hermione flinched. "I attempted to, Master."

"We can work on it," Snape said with a sigh. "I will need your assistance with a quill and parchment until I can learn how to revert from this tenacious form."

"Okay," Hermione replied with a smile, grabbing the parchment from the stack and sitting at the writing desk, quill in hand.


"At what level is she testing, Master Jarvey?" Amelia asked as she sipped her tea.

"O.W.L. level at the very least. She absorbs knowledge through osmosis, I'm fairly certain," the teacher replied with a chuckle. "If we've given her the opportunity to learn something, she throws herself into it, and—"

"And?" Amelia coaxed.

"And I think her Lethifold is helping teach her."

"Walter is giving her answers?"

"No, goodness, no!" Master Jarvey said. "I think he's actually teaching her as much as you or I could."

Amelia blinked.

"I know it sounds strange, Amelia, but I'm pretty certain that she's either learning from the Lethifold or they are learning together depending on what it is."

"Makes you wonder what a Lethifold was doing in a Muggle resale shop to begin with," Amelia muttered.

"There is that," Master Jarvey said with a shrug. "It's a tight bond, though. No denying that."

Amelia nodded. "Makes you wonder how so many things could be different with just a little understanding and love."

"Hasn't ol' Manfred been trying to tell you that for years?"

Amelia shook her head. "Yes, but he also tries to tell me that mangoes are the ultimate food choice."

Master Jarvey smiled. "They are pretty good."

"Now don't you start," Amelia groused.

Master Jarvey laughed as he waved her off. "Go bother the other instructors, ma'am. Put the fear of the Head Boss of Us into the troublemakers, not the studious."

Amelia just sniffed as she walked away.


Severus found Hermione curled up amongst a number of textbooks, a pile of essays written and sealed with wax and ribbon, and her bed being utterly ignored in favour of being tucked up against Bruce, Walter wrapped around her like a swaddle.

Sighing, he levitated her to her bed and under the sheets, Lethifold and all, gave Bruce a three-over pat, and walked out of the room.

"Well, at least I can cast my magic without my wand gripped between my teeth, now," he muttered.

He wing-walked over to where they shared a study, spotting the stack of correspondence Hermione had transcribed for him sometime between doing her studies, finishing her essays, and feeding herself. He had to admit that while he'd never planned on having an apprentice, he couldn't have asked for a more dutiful one. She asked for very little, wanting only patient direction.

While he wasn't exactly known to be patient of anything, he found he could be for her. She did so much for him already and all without complaint. Hell, she'd helped feed him while he was recovering from the extensive process that had rid him of his geas, Vows, and Mark from his magic and perhaps even his soul.

Even his mum hadn't dared risk Tobias' wrath to get him food when he was sick.

She listened attentively to his directions, sought only the smallest hint of approval to be on cloud nine, and gave a hundred and ten percent effort in everything she did. And, if she got something wrong, she would throw herself at it two hundred percent until it was right.

Hermione's parents had warned him that she had a bad habit of trying to obtain perfection even when she knew it was okay to be human and make mistakes.

Fortunately, it was easy to redirect her into other tasks, but it had also created a bit of a knowledge accumulation inside a child who was barely into her second year.

So, in an effort to allow Hermione to be a child— something he'd never been able to do on the level of enjoying himself— he had begun to take her to different places, seeing pieces of Wizarding culture and museums that she'd never been able to see growing up Muggle. He'd managed to hold together looking human for at least part of the day to allow her such things. In a way, she had inspired him to work even harder at the reverse transformation.

She deserved to see the magical world with the wonder it could inspire as well as have competent teachers. The DoM was, thankfully, quite full of competent masters, and he had no reservations about letting her spend time with Manfred learning healing or with Master Jarvey learning Arithmancy even in her second year. Hermione was more than capable, and she thrived on having purpose.

All he had to do was keep Albus' grasping hands away from her.

He had no idea what the old man had planned for the girl, but he had a feeling it wasn't exactly pure altruism that was driving him to drag Hermione back to Hogwarts.

As he put himself to bed, flipping himself upside down so his feet could cling properly to the ceiling of his cavern-like chambers, he wrapped his wings around himself and closed his eyes. For now, at least, they were safe from Albus's plans, whatever they may be. He was rarely privy to any of them, always having to take little bits here and there.

He could only hope that whatever those plans were that they remained far away from his apprentice and himself.


Boy Who Lived Falls Down Secret Entrance to Chamber of Secrets and Paralyses Teacher

Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, found himself falling down the secret entrance to the once thought mythical Chamber of Secrets and landed on top of his Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, Gilderoy Lockhart. The fall, unfortunately, broke the wizard's back, and the teacher had to be transported to St Mungos for stabilisation. Healers, however, seem to think his prognosis is quite grim.

Aurors, having responded to the subsequent call for assistance, found themselves in combat with an ancient basilisk being commanded by a young witch named Ginevra Weasley. After Aurors killed the basilisk, the young Weasley screamed and collapsed. She, too, has been transported to St Mungos for treatment.

Investigations are underway as to a possible possession or perhaps an evil plot from within the Weasley family to take over the seat of the great Albus Dumbledore at Hogwarts.

Was the Boy Who Lived another victim of an evil Weasley plot?

Was he a tool they used in an attempt to murder the famed author and adventurer, Gilderoy Lockhart?

What purpose would the murder of such a well-known hero of the Wizarding World possibly serve?

Is the Chamber of Secrets real? Was it a fake? Was it merely a setup to make the death of one of Hogwarts' finest teachers look like some sort of bizarre accident?

I, Rita Skeeter, shall keep you informed of the unvarnished truth!


"What utter rot," Severus scoffed as he threw the Prophet into the fire, curling his lip in disgust at the ensuing screams as it was rendered to motes of grey ash.

Hermione watched as the paper zinged into the fire and chuckled. "Nice toss, Master."

Severus let out a huff of steam. "The Prophet is a perfect example of how partial truths can be utter lies." He eyed Hermione curiously as she struggled to hold a large leg of something in her arms without a lightening charm.

The young witch trembled a little, but Walter oozed over the offering with a soft whoosh and swiftly made it disappear, bones and all. Hermione let out a soft sigh of relief and smiled as Walter helped her lift the second offering up so Bruce could get his multiple mouths wrapped around his lunch.

"Thanks, Walter," Hermione said as she snuggled into the Lethifold.

"Forgetting how to make things lighter?" Severus asked.

Hermione shook her head. "Master Aenders said I need to make sure I don't neglect my physical strength in case I need it, so I need to try and break up my magical work with physical work."

Severus snorted a puff of dark blue vapour. "I suppose he is correct. However, you should take on tasks a little more your size when you don't have Walter's assistance."

Hermione flushed. "Okay, Master." She yawned, hastily covering her mouth with a wide-eyed look. "Sorry!"

"I think perhaps you overdid it yesterday," Snape chided. "Why don't you go have a rest after your meal and take a break today?"

"But, would that be okay?" Hermione asked, horrified that she might miss out on some great learning if she even closed her eyes for a second.

"Nothing will happen that you cannot learn tomorrow, Apprentice, and your health is important as much as being able to answer questions. I want no mistakes during the brewing tomorrow that could have easily been solved by a good sleep."

Hermione pondered his words a moment and then smiled. "Thank you, Master. I think I will lay down a bit after lunch."

Snape grunted softly as he focused his attention on the basket of fresh fruit that had just appeared on the table. He had his own lessons to practice while his Apprentice was off getting some well-deserved shut-eye.


"Get me out of here, you pathetic mortals! I demand my freedom! I am the terror of planes you haven't even the knowledge to fathom!"

"Old Arox is at it again, Mable," a wizard sighed as he shut the door.

"Of all the things for someone to create in a laboratory, why do we have to contain a talking rat? Can't we just throw him into St Mungos and have them deal with it?"

"It's not just a rat," the wizard chided. "You know that. Not an Animagus either."

"Well, it looks like a rat," the witch said, scoffing. "Just an uglier one with creepy eyes."

"I can HEAR you, mortal! I will tear you to pieces! Starting with the ankles!"

"And it talks," Mabel complained. "Even creepier AAAGHHK!"

The elder witch yelled as she rounded the corner and immediately crashed into a bushy-haired young witch with a crate of potions clutched in her arms.

The young apprentice squawked in surprise as she went flying backwards, she and her crate of potions going in opposite directions as the elder witch tripped over both and ended up face first in the shrubberies.

"You clumsy little cow!" the older witch screeched angrily. "What in Merlin's name are you doing here? This is a restricted area!"

"Mabel, please be reasonable!" the wizard said. "She's obviously delivering potions of some sort—"

"Well, she shouldn't be HERE, Renard!" Mabel yelled, still seething.

"Begging your pardon, Madam," Hermione said quietly as she took the crate back up. "I was told to deliver this case of potions at once to a Madam Duncard to cure her rather extreme case of magical alopecia. Healer Elderberry stressed to me that it was a rush order."

"Mabel, that's you—"

"PUT THE CRATE IN THOSE DOORS AND LEAVE THIS AREA AT ONCE!" Mabel screeched, her face going very red. She seized the wizard by the wrist, dragging him along with her.

"But Mabel, if that's your delivery, then we have to ti—"

"IT'S NOT FOR ME!"

"But who else has the name Madam Duncar—"

"TAKE ME TO THE MARKET RIGHT NOW, RENARD!"

"Merlin, are you wearing a wig—"

"NOW, RENARD!"

Hermione frowned as Walter made a rude gesture toward the back of the elder witch. "If that is Madam Duncard, then apparently she has a lot more than severe hair loss to worry about," Hermione sighed as she opened the door and carefully manoeuvred herself into the room as Walter kept the heavy door from smashing her between the stone and hardwood. She shuffled into the room, posterior first, and then looked around as the door closed in front of her.

"This place looks a lot like a museum," Hermione observed, her nose wrinkling as she fought to stifle a sneeze. She put the crate of potions down, wrote out the delivery slip, and tapped it with her wand. The slip replicated, one sticking to the crate and the other zooming off to Healer Elderberry's desk.

The windows were covered in canvas, but light diffused through it, if just barely. She squinted in the gloom as her eyes adjusted. Walter tapped her temple with one tip of his "fabric," radiating the mental equivalent of, "Wake up!"

Hermione blinked and her eyes seemed to glow a radiant purple in the gloom. "Oh, right. Thanks, Walter!"

She saw there was a single metal cage that had been placed in the middle of the room of various crates and displays, clearly separated from all the others.

"Mortal scum! Release me! I am Arox the Mutilator, terror of the Deadlands!" an angry voice rang out in the darkness.

Hermione approached the cage and narrowed her eyes. The cage contained what could have been a rat if said creatures had glowing eyes, a spiny back, and an almost jagged skull-like head. It did look rattish enough that perhaps a far-off glance would have allowed such a resemblance. The creature had dark greyish black fur save over the back where a cape of crimson and purple gave the creature a look of having been stained with blood.

"That's not a very nice way to talk to someone from whom you want a favour," Hermione pointed out. "I can see why they don't go out of their way to listen to you."

The creature's eyes widened, golden eyes glowing with an eerie yellow fire. "You're not that horrid bald bitch."

Hermione sighed. "I can see this conversation doesn't benefit anyone," she said as she turned to leave.

"Wait, human! Release me from this cage and I will grant you a boon! Question not this pitiable form! For within it beats the heart of the Terror of the Deadlands, the Sunderer of the Seven Skies, and the Warrior of the Floating Wastes! I am Arox the Mutilator!" The daedrat seemed to frown, wilting a bit. "And, yes. I currently occupy this daedrat body."

Hermione frowned. "I do not need a boon."

"You do not need a bo—" Arox muttered in disbelief. "Free me and I will be honour-bound in my debt to you! My life and my skills will be yours to command!"

"I don't want to command anyone," Hermione said softly as Walter rustled about on her shoulders.

The daedrat stared at her, incredulous. "There is nothing in the entire world you would want?"

"I could really use another friend," Hermione said sadly.

"I would gladly crush your enemies to dust! I will feast upon their bones! The destruction would be glorious—"

Hermione looked horrified. "No, I mean. I'd just like to have another friend. "I don't really have enemies, I think. Just people who don't really understand me."

The otherworldly rat-creature just blinked at her. "I—" he trailed off. He scratched furiously at his ears with his hind foot. "I—could—erm—be your—" He worked his mouth around the word that seemed stuck somewhere in his throat. "Friend?"

Hermione approached the cage cautiously. "Promise?"

Walter rustled.

"On my honour. I swear my fealty to you, the most gracious of masters! Set me free, and my life is yours to command!"

"To be my friend—" Hermione said.

"I will be your—" the rat-creature wrinkled his muzzle. "Friend."

Hermione placed a finger into the cage, and the daedrat placed a tiny paw on it. A surge of magic moved between them. She touched the door of the cage and it opened as if there was no lock at all.

"Sweet freedom, at long last! Arox owes you for this kind indulgence! I will pay this debt of honour, no matter how long it takes. You have the word of Arox the Mutilator! By what name shall I use as my battle cry as I rip the faces off those who dare insult you!"

Hermione's face scrunched slightly. "I'm Hermione."

The daedrat chewed on the name slightly, mouthing out the words. "Hermione is not a weak-sounding mortal name, not like Mabel the Hairless! While it is not as powerful and glorious as Arox, there is no dishonour in serving Hermione the Most Wise! She who does not judge Arox on the basis of his admittedly diminutive current size and shape!"

Hermione peered at him. "I've never seen anything like you before."

"I am Arox the Mutilator! Greatest of the Ash Titans that has ever flown across the Deadlands! Mortals and immortals alike tremble in fear under my great shadow!"

Hermione's brows knit together. "That must make getting through doors difficult."

Arox tilted his head. "Erm, I sort of just break down the walls, actually."

"Drafty," Hermione said.

Arox scratched his ear. "It's pretty hot in the Deadlands. Drafts really aren't a problem."

"Oh," Hermione said with a shrug. "I've never heard of the Deadlands. Is it a desert?"

"You've never heard of the— where have you been, under a rock?" Arox demanded. "Who hasn't heard of the Deadlands, realm of the great Daedric Prince of Destruction, Revolution, and Ambition, Mehrunes Dagon?"

Hermione frowned. "It never came up in a book I ever read," she answered.

The daedrat's jaw dropped significantly. "Where are we? Is this Nirn? Are we in some hovel in the swamp somewhere with mortal lizard people running around?"

Hermione's brows knit together again. "We're on Earth. I've never heard of Nirn."

"Tamriel?"

"No."

"Yokuda?"

"Sounds Japanese."

"Akavir?"

Hermione shook her head.

"Pyandonea?"

"No again."

"Thras?"

Hermione shook her head.

"Aldmeris at least?"

Hermione looked at him with wide eyes.

"Atmora? Land of perpetual winter?"

"That would be Antarctica," Hermione said.

The daedrat sat down, ears flat against his head. "Where in Oblivion am I?"

"I'm not sure about Oblivion, but we're in the Milky Way galaxy."

"I think I need a drink," the daedrat said slowly. "You do have drinks here on this— wherever this is?"

"I have pumpkin juice at home. Fruit juice. Lots of that, actually. Erm, and water." Hermione shrugged.

"Something alcoholic?"

"My master doesn't drink, and I'm too young to drink," Hermione said.

Arox sighed, slumping. "Take me out of here, master. I tire of this room that has been my prison for far too long."

"How long have you been in here?" Hermione asked.

Arox tilted his head. "Long enough to see baldy go bald," he answered. "She was a nutter from the start, but she managed to arse-lick her way into an apprenticeship. She's been a gannet since she got her first coin, and she's been trying to get as much as she can ever since she could pull her top down and expose her—"

Hermione's look of horror made Arox pause.

"Erm," Arox said with some discomfort. "Sorry. That wasn't very friendly. I will do better, master!"

Walter rustled as if to shrug.

"I need to get back to Master Elderberry. He has other things for me to deliver today," Hermione said.

"I am ready to follow you to the depths of Oblivion, master! I will shred the feet of any who pursue you!"

Hermione held out her arms. "I really hope that won't be necessary."

"Are you sure? I do so love shredding. Not as much as smashing, and pulverising and, well, mutilating, of course." He jumped up into Hermione's arms.

Hermione held him awkwardly, unsure how to cradle a rat-like creature that was the size of a large cat. She used one arm to hold his rump and rubbed his head and ears with her other hand.

"Oh, Dibella," the daedrat murmured. "Why didn't someone ever tell me that felt so good?"

Hermione shook her head, not sure what to think, but she carried the creature out of the storeroom and out. Walter rustled, forming himself into a sort of pouched cloak, and Arox jumped into it.

"Thank you, master!"

"Thanks, Walter," Hermione praised the Lethifold. "That makes things so much easier!"

Walter radiated a pleasing warmth as Hermione exited and closed the door behind her.


"That impudent little wretch!" screeched the older witch as she pointed and gestured at Hermione. "She's the one who broke into the containment room!"

"You balding deceiver! Prevaricator! How dare you insult my master! I will scratch out your eyeballs and feast upon them!" Arox yelled as he leapt toward Mabel Duncard, his mouth wide open and claws at the ready.

Hermione quickly snatched the daedrat from the air and snuggled him close, and the wrathful creature immediately groaned in pleasure, his back leg kicking in pleased defeat.

Snape towered in front of her like a wall of impending doom, glowering down at the accusatory witch.

The witch tumbled backwards, screeching and accusing him of everything from intimidation to stealing biscuits from her pantry.

"Holding an unauthorised interdimensional creature hostage anywhere, let alone in the DoM, is a very serious offence," Amelia said. "Since you claim this creature—"

"I AM THE GREAT AND POWERFUL AROX THE MUTILATOR!" Arox bellowed. "Oh, that feels wonderful, master. Please continue to rub my ears just like that. I will destroy cities in your glorious, not weak-sounding, mortal name!"

"Ahem. If Arox is yours, Ms Duncard, then I will expect a full disclosure on how it, erm, he came to be in your possession in the first place."

Mabel cringed, paling significantly. "But that creature isn't really mine! It's my master's storeroom."

"So you have willingly aided your master in the containment of an illegally detained interdimensional being," Amelia said.

"What? No! I—"

"Mocked me for ages in the dark! Set the light on me so bright that it was even worse than the dark! I'll rip you to shr—oh yesss, right there, master. How do you know how to tame those damnable itches so skillfully?"

Amelia eyed the blissfully cooing daedrat with a puckered half-amused expression.

"As it is quite obvious that the captive in question knows you, I will be questioning both you and your master over the situation. Until we can locate your master, I will be detaining you with our own hospitality until we can determine if the Aurors need to be involved."

"What? No! This isn't fair at all!" Mabel cried. "She's the one with the bloody rat, not me!"

"Insignificant mortal cur! How dare you call Arox the Mutilator a vermin. I who bring entire armies to their knees by flying over and casting my great and terrible shadow! I will crush your skull and make a pla—oh, thank you master. That's the itchiest of itchy spots right there! Ah!"

Amelia gestured sharply, and the Unspeakbles took Mabel Duncard away as she continuously screeched curses upon Hermione.

Hermione snuggled under Walter, a frown on her face, her arms squeezing around Arox as she pressed her face into his fur.

"What? What is this? Wait, is this cuddle time? I rather like cuddle time. Yes, master, cuddle me! Squeeze me so tightly that my eyes escape their sockets in most pleasurable ecstasy!"

Amelia let out her breath in a huff and looked at Severus. "Could you please take Hermione and her new friend to the familiar registration office? Let Madam Billingsby know that it was a rescue bonding of an interdimensional hostage."

"Those words should not be spoken so casually," Severus said with a lifted eyebrow. If we were anywhere else, Amelia, I'd have to call you quite mad."

"Oh, I am mad," Amelia sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "I've had my suspicions about Master Clarke for quite some time, but we were never able to get reason enough to search his properties. He has had multiple apprentices over the years, all of them exceedingly rude and entitled but quite willing to keep their respective gobs shut for whatever reason."

Arox was happily flat on his back as Hermione was rubbing his head and ears. "Mortals always want immortality," Arox murmured. "But they aren't formed from Chaotic creatia like a daedra. All daedra, if they are so humiliated as to be killed, will reform in the chaotic creatia— the very chaos of Oblivion—from the greatest of Princes to the lowest of scamps. But mortals, no. They do not seek the endless cycle of death and rebirth. They wish to freeze themselves in the ideal moment of their youth, never dying, never fearing."

The daedrat wriggled his whiskers. "They siphoned my life force every week to make their vile potions. But the master did not share everything with them, no. The bald one wanted to be young and beautiful forever, so she stole some of my essence. To make her own potion." Arox smirked wickedly, the twist of his muzzle exposing his sharp teeth. "She lost her long golden locks of hair. And now, she's bound to keep her master's secret lest she not get a drop of the elixir and lose far more than her hair."

"What happens when the elixir is not taken, Arox?" Hermione asked, frowning.

The daedrat hummed in thought. "Who can say? I'm sure it will be satisfyingly horrible. I hope her face melts off. Oh! I hope she shrivels in unspeakablemmmmfh!"

Snape's hand snapped the daedrat's mouth closed. "Enough, please. My apprentice and your apparent master has rather more delicate sensitivities."

The daedrat's eyes widened, and he nodded.

Snape took his hand away as he moved to speak with Amelia in more detail.

"I like him, master!" Arox cooed. "He has great power to crush his enemies into paste but protects you! This is great news! I will not have to murder him in his sleep!"

Hermione cuddled Arox tighter, and Walter wrapped part of himself around the daedrat's muzzle and snapped it firmly closed.

The interdimensional traveller found himself in the depths of the cuddle once more and blissfully kept his trap shut.

"Come," Snape said after a few minutes. "Let us get your new friend properly registered before any more new friends fall into your lap."

Barou?

Bruce wagged his tail as if sensing he was being talked about.

"Yes, Master!" Hermione said as she stood and followed beside him with a smile on her face.

"We're going to need a larger quarters at this rate," Snape muttered at Amelia as they passed by.

"I'll see what I can arrange," Amelia said with no little amusement as she straightened her collar and robes. "After I deal with this Master Clarke fiasco." She watched Hermione walking completely at ease by Severus' side, none the wiser to the great feats she had just accomplished, save that her master was quite pleased with her and she'd gained another friend.

"If only life could be so simple for the rest of us," Amelia said to herself.


End of Chapter Two


A/N: Arox the Mutilator comes from Elder Scrolls Online, and he amused me so much while I was sick that he had to visit this story. Some of his dialogue comes straight from the game because it was perfect just the way it was.

The good news is that I'm feeling better.

The bad news is that means I'm back to work tonight, so I will not be able to update with any semblance of regularity. My hospital is understaffed and overloaded with patients, and it doesn't look like it will get better anytime soon.

Stay well, be safe, and have a Happy Christmas this year.

The Potions & Parchment SSHG Holiday Gift Exchange will be releasing stories starting 23rd December: Creations revealed 5pm AEST/7am GMT/11pm PST. One of my stories will be released from its hostage situation then. (Some of you may have seen it briefly before the doors were slammed closed due to mismatched permissions on A03. So, even if I can't update anything before then, you can have something to look forward to.)