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: Back to the adventures of a girl and her Lethifold (and homicidal daedrat)


Imagination

Chapter 3

Make no mistake, adolescence is a war. No one gets out unscathed.

Harlan Coben


"Master! Master! It's time to wake up. We get to participate in glorious combat today! You shall obliterate your opponents in superior martial skill as I laugh over their battered corpses!"

Hermione pried open one sleep-encrusted eye and groaned, pulling Walter over herself in protest.

"Masterrr!" Arox called, tugging Hermione's pyjama sleeve out from under Walter's embrace so her hand was exposed to the cooler morning air. "It's time to wake up!"

"Idonwannawakeup," Hermione muttered sleepily into Walter's dark folds.

The daedrat tapped his foot impatiently against the bedside table and then perked, an idea forming in his mind. He dashed off and dragged back a bowl of ice-cold water and promptly dipped Hermione's hand into it.

Hermione promptly leapt up from the bed in startled and desperate need, dashing off for the loo.

Walter glowered at the daedrat, hovering menacingly.

"Don't look at me!" Arox whinged. "She never misses a class! Why start with the one class that promises great violence and possible bloodshed?"

Walter seemed to shake his "head" slowly and floated off to join Hermione.


Master Aenders tilted his head in complete bafflement as three of his students were attacked and subdued by flying books with cranky attitudes, one by a disturbingly effective rat-creature, one by a Lethifold, and the other by a permanent sticking charm that had him plastered face-first into the remains of the duelling platform.

"You DARE attack my master five-to-one after she beats you quite fairly in honourable combat?" roared a very big voice out of a surprisingly small creature. "I should RIP your face to shreds and DRAG you across the salt mines!"

The student in question, who had been in a higher level of spellwork, was cowering in a corner, covering his face and crying hysterically as he tried to keep the daedrat from tearing into his eyes and other soft fleshy bits.

The young witch, who had been obviously outnumbered, stood there in tatters, her robes torn to shreds from several nasty slicing hexes, blood trickling down her face and arms, her curly hair shaved off on one side, and one arm dangled uselessly from her right side.

"What is the meaning of this?" Aenders demanded, his face a blotchy red with barely contained fury.

"She STARTED it!" the one boy shrieked accusingly. "She told me my project wasn't going to work!"

"So you and your idiotic friends decided to what?" Aenders demanded as he snapped his fingers to right the room. The flying books zoomed over to Hermione and fluttered about her as Walter whooshed over to engulf her form in his soothing warmth. "You just decided to slice her up?"

The daedrat seemed to ponder even more violence before he hopped off the one boy's body and scurried back over to his mistress and leapt into the Lethifold's accommodating carrying pouch. Hermione pulled Walter over herself and huddled down by the overturned bookshelf as the flying books gathered all around her and in her lap.

"She DESERVED it, the little FREAK!" the witch that was half pinned by a fallen bookshelf wailed loudly. "That horrid familiar of hers is nothing but a dirty, filthy, flea-bitten VERMIN!"

Master Aenders scowled as he watched Snape's apprentice curl into herself, pulling both the Lethifold and daedrat into a fierce one-armed cuddle. A large canine head was attempting to shove itself through the very small doorway, and the highly agitated dog was very unhappy with the fact that his mistress was on the side that he wasn't on.

"She's just not NATURAL!" the other wizard yelled angrily. "No one has more than one familiar! What makes HER so bloody special?!"

"Let ME at them, Master!" the daedrat yelled in fury. "I'll rend their flesh down into their pathetic SOULS and cast their flayed BODIES into the burning slave pits!"

Hermione only squeezed the daedrat tighter, burying her face into his fur.

Suddenly, the dog's head disappeared and was replaced by the distinctively inhuman face of Severus Snape as he eerily squeezed in through the smaller doorway and then expanded into the room. He shook out his mane of pitch-black hair, his muzzle twisting into a vicious snarl.

Hermione immediately jumped up and ran to him, thumping into his side as her good hand curled into his fur and held on tightly.

His muzzle relaxed slightly as he whuffed a dark cloud of healing vapour over her. Her numerous cuts and bruises closed up and faded— even as an array of similar wounds on his own body simultaneously healed. His left wing, which was bent unnaturally, mended even as her arm healed.

"You're hurt," Hermione whispered into his dark fur. "I'm so sorry!" She hugged him tightly, using both working arms.

"It's not your fault, Miss Granger," Snape growled softly as his head jerked to glower at the other students. "I knew when I took you as my apprentice that the bond between us would be very strong."

"As by right of a master as the guardian of their apprentice," Snape snarled into the room, "I hereby call upon the Rite of Restitution. All those who chose to take part in the attack and injury of my apprentice shall be held accountable either by self or via proxy of their master. You have until the end of today to meet with me under the watch of the HBOY, who will ensure fairness of either punishment or payment. For those who would refuse these options, I will meet them on the duelling platform."

Arox wrinkled his nose in distaste as he sniffed. "Excellent intimidation, master of my master! I can smell these whelps pissing themselves in anticipation of your duelling prowess!"

Hermione cuddled the daedrat tighter as Snape wrapped his wing around the young witch protectively.


Memo

From: Amelia Bones, HBOY

To: Department of Mysteries, Unspeakable Division

After the disgusting display of immaturity and inappropriate apprentice behaviour at Master Aender's class yesterday, group classes are hereby suspended until the masters of said apprentices recover from the subsequent duels.

I am utterly appalled by the lack of responsibility shown both by apprentices and masters to the point where multiple duels of honour had to occur back to back instead of facing each other and talking it out as was originally offered.

All outside visitation privileges for the next month are revoked immediately while people are reminded to remember what it means to behave as civilised beings in a magical world.


"Alohomora!" Hermione incanted, waving her wand.

The lock on the door in front of her jiggled and then snapped, falling off. The door creaked open with a loud protesting noise.

"Very good, Master!" Arox said cheerfully. "Not as good as tearing it down and stomping it into rubble, but still, well done!"

Hermione blushed as the exam proctor scribbled notes down on a scroll of parchment.

"This concludes your practicals, Apprentice Granger," the official said, waving his hand. "We will send the results to your master by the end of the week.

"The week?" Hermione said, groaning. "But what if I failed?"

"The end of the week," the official said, shooing her away. "Begone. There are several other students who must be tested today."

Hermione frowned and shuffled out of the testing area.

"Shall I eat out their eyeballs, master?" the daedrat asked eagerly.

Hermione cuddled the daedrat tightly. "That won't be necessary."

"I can give them gangrene in unsightly places," Arox said helpfully.

Hermione snuggled him. "I'll just wait out the week."

"As you wish, my most patient master," Arox said. "If it were up to me, I would turn them into paste for being lazy."

Walter wrangled the daedrat and stuffed him in one of his "pockets."

Hermione pet Walter gently as she escaped the testing area, hoping no one heard the interaction of one mildly overzealous interdimensional traveller.


Severus eyed the daedrat as Arox stuffed his face into a mug of hot cocoa, his tongue chasing the multitude of tiny enchanted unicorn marshmallows floating on the top. The magical confectionaries whinnied in distress as they were sucked up and devoured with all due haste.

Hermione, on the other hand, sipped less aggressively, letting the enchantment wear away before traumatising herself with the sounds of "dying" unicorns.

"Who makes those cocoa mixes," he muttered as he flipped the paper he was reading.

"Marcus down in the commissary," Amelia said with amusement as she sipped her cocoa. "He enjoys the little enchantments."

Severus arched a brow wearily.

A few of the marshmallow unicorns started to combat each other, slaying each other and sending up a foaming mountain of froth at the top of Hermione's mug.

Hermione's eyes widened with surprise and then delight as she sipped the steaming drink happily.

"So what inspired the descent into hot cocoa?" Amelia asked.

"To distract her from fretting over her obviously passing grades on her practicals," Snape said with a sniff and a snort of blue vapour. "She worries over nothing."

"Grades are hardly nothing, Severus," Amelia said.

"Hers will exceed expectations, if not prove outstanding," Severus replied calmly. "The only exception would be Divination, which she loathes just as much as I do."

"The subject or the teacher?" Amelia asked, grinning.

"Yes," Severus said with a nose-wrinkling sniff. "She may not do as well in Care of Magical Creatures due to her, ah… unorthodox methods. No matter how effective her ways are with them, Peabody refuses to even consider anything but book knowledge as evidence of effectiveness."

Amelia frowned. "I really need to retire him," she said with a sigh, "but he refuses to take on an apprentice—or rather no one wishes to apprentice with him because he's practically medieval."

"Just hire in some new blood," Severus said bluntly, "before the man gets himself murdered by something or someone."

"At least the practicals are tested on simple effectiveness instead of one's personal preference with regard to method," Amelia sighed. "The choices for replacements are few and far between. Most of the good ones are off travelling the world doing what they do best. They don't tend to want to stay where the sky isn't visible at all times and the wind doesn't blow through their hair."

"Just what we need is some ridiculous animal wrangler whose face graces the Witch Weekly shampoo ads." Severus wrinkled his nose.

"Not that kind of wind through their hair, Severus," Amelia chided. "You know the type. Outdoorsy. Claustrophobic. They want to feel the wind on their skin and the rain."

"Hn," Severus muttered. "Kettleburn always preferred the hearth with a roof over his head. Probably why he retired so he could have more roof and hearth and keep the rest of his fingers and toes."

"I find it doubtful Silvanus wants to teach here at the DoM. If anything we have more dangerous creatures than ever there were at Hogwarts," Amelia said.

"More dangerous but far more predictable," Severus said with a frown. "Most of the more serious of Hogwarts' problems have had to do with Hagrid's little pet projects and making more supposedly harmless 'friends,' as it were."

Amelia scowled. "Dumbledore has an excuse for everything. I've tried to send in teams to remove the bloody Acromantulas, and somehow that half-giant buffoon manages to know when we're coming and move them out in time for the sweep."

Snape's brow lifted. "All of them?"

Amelia nodded grimly. "Which is why I think someone had to have tipped him off. A rush job would leave stragglers."

"Who?" Snape asked. He itched his ear with one wing spur.

"A Dumbledore sympathiser, I'm fairly certain," Amelia said.

Snape's expression was dour. "He has that half-giant wrapped around his finger. Hagrid couldn't do anything against Dumbledore on purpose. Unintentionally, sure. He can't keep a secret to save himself. But he believes the sun rises and sets with Dumbledore because Albus doesn't apply the same rules to Hagrid as the rest of his people. Worse, Hagrid took over for Silvanus when he retired, and he cares for the beasts well enough, but he forgets that children are not beasts. They aren't half-giants. They are fragile. Breakable. They are also prone to being stupid in the face of the unknown, and beasts do not usually like change."

Severus seemed thoughtful. "But with someone like Hermione, it seems to give them inspiration to accept things and grow. To be okay with new things—at least as long as one really big thing doesn't change."

"Her," Amelia said.

Severus nodded. "I've come to realise—as odd as this is to me—that as long as I'm around, Hermione is willing to try new things, learn, adapt, and challenge herself. She's willing to step out of her comfort zone in order to learn the lessons I am teaching. Her familiars do the same for her. They are willing to learn what she wants of them as long as she is there to provide—comfort. I find it very strange to be sought out as a source of comfort—for anyone."

Amelia smiled. "Severus, sometimes we need to see ourselves through another's non-judgmental eyes to truly appreciate what we are to the world around us. It's not to say that the disparaging comments made by certain others are to be taken to heart because you'll always have someone out there trying to ruin your day simply because of your perceived audacity in daring to breathe the same air as them. But those rare moments in which we truly connect to someone in a positive way are to be cherished." She tilted her head. "And while you may not believe you are someone who can be comforting, to her you are. That's all that really matters, isn't it? Manfred thought you were well worth saving, too. "

Severus grimaced, the lines on his face oddly exaggerated as he slowly came to terms with the reality of his own worth and significance.

"Master?"

Severus jolted as he found Hermione there looking up at him.

"Yes?"

"Arox claims that I might feel better if I were to bathe in the blood of my enemies, but I don't think that would be terribly hygienic," Hermione observed.

Severus' eyebrow twitched spasmodically. "We generally frown upon the practice of bathing in the blood of our enemies. It tends to lead to much unwanted scrutiny and uncomfortable questions."

The daedrat on Hermione's shoulder seemed to ponder that rather furiously. "Wise, I suppose," he said after a moment. "We shall defer to your greater knowledge of this world's strange customs with regard to such things."

Amelia seemed to be hiding a snicker behind her hand.

Hermione, smiling with what seemed to be relief that her master prevented further awkward conversation, beamed up at Severus.

"Thank you, Master!" she said as she scurried off to gather up her books. "No more studying tonight. I promised not to get too obsessed."

"But what shall we do, Master? If not studying the many ways in which to maim and annihilate our enemies into a bloody paste?" Arox asked with a puzzled frown.

"Master Morgan will be searching for assistance in his nightly attempt to put various kinds of fruit into foods that are not normally fruity," Severus reminded them.

Hermione brightened at the thought. "Oh! That would be wonderful! Let's not miss this, Arox! Come along, Walter!"

"Baroou?" said Bruce, cocking his head at her.

"You too, Bruce!"

The three-headed hound hastily jumped to his feet and followed after.

Severus closed his eyes and shook his head with a sigh.

Amelia smiled. "At least you know that no one is going to mess with her with Manfred around," she said.

Severus shook his head. "No one should with her being simultaneously protected by a cerberus, a Lethifold, and a frankly murderous interdimensional traveller either. People are idiots."

"True," Amelia conceded. "Some of them, at least, seem determined to learn that the hard way."

"They're lucky that she was raised by a relatively mellow Lethifold," Severus said.

"As opposed to being raised by a pack of wolves?" Amelia asked.

"As surrogate parents go, Walter turned out to be a remarkably good influence on her," Severus commented. "With her track record for attracting the unusual, however, she would be more likely raised by a random den of dire werewolves of some extinct species not seen in thousands to millions of years."

Amelia snorted. "But she'd still have far better manners than some of our apprentices lately."

Severus' eyebrow twitched. "Most likely."


Moody scowled into his tankard as he sipped a drink at the Hogshead Tavern. A brown and white nanny goat kept trying to nibble on his trouser leg, and he kept using his boot to firmly shove it away.

Aberforth's story seemed much too bizarre to be true, but the man had quite willingly agreed to share his story with him while under Veritaserum. He'd told him the truth the first time, but Alastor hadn't believed it. So he told it again after taking a full dose of Veritaserum and the story only changed in that he used far more colourful profanity while under the effects of the truth elixir.

Albus was running from his past.

He'd been in a three-way battle that had ended with the death of his little sister. None of the three wizards on the beach that day knew which or whose spell had killed her.

They had all been equally guilty.

Albus had fallen for a ruddy Dark Lord, believed in him, supported him wholeheartedly—up until poor Ariana's untimely death.

He'd fought and defeated Grindelwald, eventually, but in order to justify some penance on his part, Albus had taken in an orphan named Tom Riddle and brought him to the magical world—

And created a new Dark Lord that strived to be even worse than Grindelwald.

Alastor had probably sucked down over a litre of very strong Scottish tea just trying to digest the information he was processing.

Perhaps, he reasoned, Snape wasn't the evil one corrupting young witches and doing the unspeakable things that he'd assumed.

Perhaps, he'd been wrong.

Alastor swallowed hard. He didn't like being wrong. He didn't like admitting he'd been wrong, but the truth was laid out before him like a buffet. No matter how hard it was to digest, he had to admit that a young witchling had seen the truth before him.

Be vigilant.

He was a fool.

Blind and prejudiced because Snape had been an easy target with his dark history and affiliations.

How many others had he condemned to Azkaban simply because his rather questionable gut had said so?

It was finally time to face the truth he had been avoiding. He'd assaulted a young witchling due to his blind trust in Albus sodding Dumbledore. He'd been ready to battle Snape in the middle of the infirmary just before the girl's Lethifold familiar had taken him out.

A Lethifold.

Everyone knew a Lethifold was an XXXXX creature, untameable and vicious as well as carnivorous—

Yet—

She'd tamed a Cerberus, too.

And Snape—he'd been the one the girl had immediately run to the moment she was in danger.

And could he really blame her? No. Some fool Scotsman Auror had marched right in there and tried to drag her off by force to a school that had apparently not wanted her nearly as much as Albus would have him believe.

It would be so easy to dismiss Aberforth's stories as a pack of biassed lies from a jealous younger brother, but the man had willingly taken the Veritaserum, and that spoke volumes to him.

Master Morgan had said that the girl was special, evolved, uniquely so. She was dependent on her master to keep her well-grounded and to anchor her to an ethical compass.

She was depending on Snape to teach her ethics.

Alastor had to fight his instinctive revulsion, and he realised then that he needed to undergo some severe deconditioning.

He sighed, groaning as he rubbed the space between his eyes.

But then what would he do? What then?

He had no plan and his moral compass was all over the place. Everything he'd been so sure of was scattered about like chaff in the wind.

Alastor emptied his mug again.

"Sodding wonderful."


"Excellent choice of form, Master!" Arox praised gleefully as Hermione stared at her long prehensile tail. "You look much better with a tail!"

Hermione looked at Severus with distress in her eyes.

"Don't look at me, apprentice," Severus said. "I'm not the one attempting to grow another tail."

"I wasn't trying to grow a tail!" Hermione protested.

"It is an excellent tail," Arox said with approval. "It could use a nice ash titan spade on the end to smite your foes and spear the hearts of your enemies, but having a proper tail is better than no tail at all!"

"I think it's a very attractive dragonbat tail," Manfred cooed as he scratched his ear with one wing thumb. "You just need the wings and all the rest to go along with it."

Hermione made a face, slumping visibly. "But the books all say that an Animagus is supposed to be a natural animal!"

"Oh, piss on the silly books, youngling," Manfred said with no little disgust. "Books can only get you so far. And books aren't exactly infallible either. Books would tell you that all Lethifolds are untamable and attack anything living on sight. Do you think that is correct?"

Hermione's face screwed up in thought, and she sighed. "No, Master Morgan."

Manfred enveloped Hermione with one wing and pulled her close. "And dragonbats are considered so dangerous that they are off the charts with X's, and do you think we are unreasonably violent and untamable?"

"Only if someone steals your fruit," Hermione said cheekily, snuggling into his warm fur.

"Psht," Manfred said, giving her a warm, comforting snuggle. "I have been known to share from time to time."

Hermione smiled at him, her new tail looping with amusement.

"To be able to shapeshift is a great gift and responsibility, love," Manfred said. "Glamours can only do so much. An Animagi is restricted to only one shape than the one they were born with. A metamorphmagi can look exactly like another person and even ghosts or animals, but their forms are as volatile as their emotions, and a highly emotional metamorphmagus is not a good spy."

"Why am I able to do these things?" Hermione asked.

"You were fed a rather unique type of magic as an infant," Manfred explained. "Walter took very special care of you when you were but a babe. He fed you like one of his own, and it opened up your magic in certain ways that most others cannot. You are bound to a Cerberus, a hound of the Underworld, to Arox, an interdimensional creature, and to your master, who is now most definitely a dragonbat just like yours truly. All these things add an unusual touch to your magic and allow you to push far beyond what a typical human witch could. You were, perhaps, never a typical child to begin with. It has attuned you to a rare kind of magic that has always existed but very few mortals can touch. Much like how Muggles cannot see or wield magic."

Hermione pulled Walter more tightly around herself. "I can't even imagine a life without Walter."

The Lethifold warmed noticeably around her, radiating a soothing Dark plasma.

Hermione smiled brightly. "How often does this happen?"

The dragonbat shrugged, a ripple of ebony fur. "I was born in the primordial Dark, child. Given form through the fears of the living and the dead. Not all dragonbats are so blessed. Sometimes magic itself chooses how we are born and how we are evolved. When I was a young dragonbat, I fed only upon blood and fear. Thankfully, in time I learned to appreciate the succulent glory of fruit. Less messy, well, maybe not, but far less in the way of fiery torches, pitchforks, and rampaging mobs or cults thinking you are their god. I have lived many lifetimes, and I do have regrets, but with this long life, it allows me to teach others to not fall into the same mistakes I once made. And for an exceptional few, I can be either a path to their salvation or damnation depending on how their fate is rolled on the cosmic die. But for a long-lived race, we cannot always take such an active role. We must allow those we have guided to make their own choices, good or bad, and then face the consequences of those choices. We cannot always take sides save for one, the side of magic. And magic does not belong to the light or the Dark. It is what it is. Inherently grey and unrepentant. It is what I must be. It is the path that Severus chose in casting away the constraints of his old chains. It is what you will face should you choose the path of evolution."

Hermione had her new tail clutched in her hands, and she made a nervous wringing motion. "Do I have a choice?"

"Of course, child," Manfred said kindly. "Growing up is a hard thing indeed. The choices before you can be vast and often confusing. There is no pressure for you to decide right here and now, but one day, there will come a time when a choice comes before you, and you must decide whether to step off the cliff and let magic catch you or remain safely upon the known shore. There is no shame in either choice. Both are choices. Both can be you."

"Browl," Bruce rumbled, all three heads panting with tongues lolling above her.

Arox was perched upon head number two, his small body glowing with magic. "Far be it from me to tell you what to do, Master, but I think the Divines have blessed you with the choice of fates. We, the ash titans, were all in the service of Mehrunes Dagon, twisted from the forms of captured dragons very unwillingly. We had no other fate. No other purpose but to serve. But occasionally, one of us would choose to serve another Daedric Prince. A small few grew in such power that they could command their own realm in Oblivion. There is much power in being able to choose, Master. I did not choose to be thrown here and captured by Baldie, but I did choose to bind myself to you in exchange for freedom from that cage. I do not regret it! Whatever choice you make, be proud of it!"

The daedrat paused for a moment to itch his ears. "But if anyone dares to challenge your choice, I will joyfully rip out their eyes and eat their unworthy tongues for you, great master! But should you choose the path of a mortal and eventually die, I swear to not eat your corpse as if you are some common rabble whose only worth is to provide momentary entertainment."

Hermione made a pinched face. "Thanks, Arox. I think."

Severus eyed the daedrat with something akin to weary tolerance as Manfred seemed to chuckle.

Hermione pressed her forehead to Bruce's middle head and closed her eyes as the happy Cerberus whined and tail wagged even harder. "I trust in magic, and I trust in you all. Whatever fate may fall to me, I believe in magic, and I believe in you."

There was a freezing cold and then a hot blast of magic as a burst of magic swirled around Hermione's body at her declaration, and her body lifted up off the ground and was cocooned in the warp and weft of hundreds of magical tendrils that erupted from the ground. The air smelt strongly of ozone, and Hermione let out an instinctive squeak of fright.

Severus reacted immediately to her fear, throwing himself at the cluster of magic with a bestial roar. It flung him back, but he fiercely launched himself at it again and again.

"Master!" Arox cried, launching himself from atop head number two, his body suddenly jerking and transforming mid-air, wings exploding outward, bladed tail smashing against the ground, his draconically twisted visage glowing with his mouth agape and fangs bared. He roared loudly, his great body slamming repeatedly against the magical cocoon.

Bruce seemed rather confused as to what to do. Each head seemed to have a different idea of what the best plan was, but the body wasn't going anywhere due to the conflict.

Manfred, itching one ear with his wing thumb, yawned widely and tucked into a juicy mango as unbridled chaos swirled all around him. Walter hovered nearby quite patiently, seemingly undisturbed.

"I knew you were the rational one," Manfred commented idly as he made the mango disappear in record time.

After cleaning the mango juice off his muzzle he wedged his tail between Severus and the cocoon and yanked him backwards and used one wing to pin the ash titan down by the tail. "Sit," he screed, his voice carrying through the chaos like a hot knife through butter.

Both Arox and Severus, stunned, sat simultaneously. Bruce, already sitting, laid down instead.

The cocoon of magic unfurled like an opening flower and released its hidden prize, depositing a newly minted if somewhat overly fluffy-looking young dragonbat on the ground. Magic crackled through her riotous mane of curls with a snapping sound.

She looked one way and the other and gave a small, confused squeak as a cloud of orange vapour escaped her mouth.

"Welcome my young batling," Manfred said with clear amusement. "I look forward to teaching you both the superior benefits of your new form and its function."

Severus herded the young batling to him with one wing and his tail, pulling her against his chest and under the warmth of his wing even as Walter settled about her shoulders once more, seemingly uncaring as to what form she was in. "Couldn't you have given us a little warning?" Severus growled in annoyance.

"Free will, Severus," Manfred said with a smile of fang. "She could have said no. She might have waited."

"You suspected," Snape accused, scowling at the elder dragonbat.

"I believed she would make the right choice, yes," Manfred admitted.

"You said it wouldn't matter what choice she made," Severus pointed out as he let the exhausted batling snuggle into him.

"Magic believed she would make the right choice, yes," Manfred said, nodding. "As to when, well, that part was rather hazy. Time is a rather fickle and elusive beast for those like us."

Manfred nosed Severus' wing out of the way to expose the drowsy young batling. "There now, everything is okay now, yes?"

Hermione affixed herself to Manfred's underwing and clung to his fur with a squeak, yawning sleepily but instinctively seeking out the warm and comforting presence of her elders.

Manfred smiled fondly at the cuddly dragonbatling. "Try to remember, Severus. This kind of transformation cannot occur against our will. Deep down, she trusted magic to make an appropriate choice on her behalf. She trusted the bond between magic and you and her familiars to never fail her. Just as you trusted me to help you rid yourself of your ill-sworn Oaths and unwanted bonds of binding magic. This was something both she and magic needed."

"The Dark Lord would be beside himself to find the key to his immortality would be faith in something greater than himself," Severus said thoughtfully, his muzzle softening as Manfred tenderly tucked the sleepy batling against Severus' side once more after a thorough health exam, ear inspection, number of limbs check, and determining whether she had any random extra magical appendages.

"Ageless immortality is a responsibility," Manfred said softly. "Often those who would seek immortality are not looking for responsibility or obligation but rather the exact opposite. They do not wish to answer for their actions or submit to culpability. They often have distrust for everyone but themselves. And arrogance does not help magic. Those it grooms to take on the mantle start young, perhaps within the womb."

"If magic decided I was a keeper, why would it wait so long to bring me here?" Severus wondered aloud.

Manfred seemed thoughtful. "You have made many mistakes in your life, Severus," he said. "But those very mistakes made you who you are today. The person who was ready to be who you are now rather than a mere tool for another's agenda. You were ready to protect her from all comers. You were ready to live for another person. You had regrets. You found the kind of wisdom that can only come from experience. That is a path to the epiphany that allowed you to surrender yourself to magic's judgement rather than a selfish wizard's yoke. You made the choice once you were ready for it."
"I'm not sure what that says about me when she made the choice at the age of thirteen," Severus sighed. "Most people couldn't make a choice that significant when they were of legal age. I know I couldn't have."

Manfred shrugged. "The choice was made for my essence long before I was loosed upon the world," he said. "We all have different paths to this place. And not everyone can be raised by a Lethifold."

Severus looked down to see Walter tucked dutifully around his dragonbatling charge, every bit as loyal as ever.

"It makes me wonder what a Lethifold was doing in a Muggle shop."

Manfred tilted his head in thought. "Why indeed."


"Manfred Morgan," Amelia huffed in clear exasperation. "How many transformations are we going to suffer in the span of a single year?"

Manfred itched his chin as they watched Severus and Hermione practising their tail wrap perching, feet dangling, and wing flaps together all while making various objects levitate in the air and move about on the giant garden chess board that was laid out under them.

"I believe these two prime specimens were the only scheduled transformations, my lovely Amelia," Manfred crooned. "At least from my magical gene pool. As for contagious wyvern venom, lycanthropy, ursanthropy, or whatever else anthropy might be roaming the hallowed halls and walls of the Department of Mysteries, I can only guess. At least we are not experiencing a plague of penanggals."

"The last thing we need around here is a horde of nocturnal vampiric Malay ghost beasts of floating disembodied heads trailing their entrails around and drinking the blood of their mostly female victims," Amelia muttered with an impressively dramatic eye roll.

"Ah, so you're familiar with those Malay ghost myths," Manfred purred. "I knew there was a reason I liked you."

Amelia rolled her eyes, fighting a smile at his shameless flirting. "I have to be familiar with a great many supposedly mythical things while keeping the DoM running," she said. "The manananggal supposedly has bat wings as they fly around as a disembodied torso. Same family of disturbing creatures. Makes me wonder what form you might have taken if you had been spawned in South Asia."

"Bats are often considered protectors of the forest in quite a few places around the world," Manfred noted. "And protectors are often quite frightening to the right sort of people."

"Even more frightening than a blood-drinking disembodied head?"

"Dragonbats hardly have an aversion to garlic, scissors, vinegar, or thorny plants," Manfred commented. "That makes us quite intimidating."

Amelia sighed. "I suppose so," she conceded. "Every culture has their own way of fending off the evils rooted in its unique folklore. I had no idea of even half the things I'd learn when I first took on this job."

"And just look at you now," Manfred said, grinning toothily. "Practically single-handedly keeping us all in line."

Amelia crossed her arms. "Whatever," she muttered.

Manfred chuckled as he watched over Severus and Hermione as they trained together even as Severus was literally teaching Hermione her lessons in curriculum magic on the wing.

"Can she at least take on a human form?" Amelia asked.

"Of course she can," Manfred scoffed. "She's a dab hand at the fine art of shapeshifting. You'd think she was the blessed of Veles or perhaps Loki."

"Loki, dear Merlin I hope not," Amelia said with feeling, repressing a shudder at that rather disquieting thought. "Shapeshifting is one thing, mischievous trickster gods are so not on the docket."

"You would prefer her to be a Rakshasa?"

"No," Amelia huffed. No and no."

"How terribly boring," Manfred said, feigning a bored yawn.

"That's me," Amelia said cheerfully. "Amelia Boring Bones, Head Boss of You."

"I suppose we will send Hermione off to her other lessons," Manfred said. "We've kept you waiting long enough to speak with Severus."

Amelia nodded as Manfred sent out a low-pitched scree, and Hermione's lessons in the arboretum promptly came to an end as Severus returned to speak with Amelia and Hermione flew off to her next lesson, Arox riding in a jockey position upon her back as Walter fluttered along behind her.


"Master, don't you think that one is a little bit too normal?"

Hermione tilted her head and eyed the daedrat with curiosity. "What do you mean, Arox?"

"Just about everyone around here has some sort of drama going on, Master," Arox explained. "That one, however, seems strangely normal. Too normal. It's suspicious. I would bet my wings that he's hiding something. He's the only one that goes into all the rooms. The Brain Room, the Death Chamber, the Hall of Prophecies, the Love Room, the Planet Room, and even the Time Room. He talks to everyone here, but he says very little. He acts like a mere gossip, but he's too careful."

Hermione scratched one ear with her wing thumb. Arox was, she knew, an extremely paranoid creature, but his observations were usually spot on unless it involved a skewed interpretation of kindness. He was still learning what that was and understanding that just because someone gave you a hug didn't mean that they secretly wanted you dead. He'd become much better at it since he'd realised that her hugs did not entail the likelihood of his messy demise shortly after, even if he did proclaim that he was dying in the "delights of Dibella" every time she scratched behind his ears and rubbed under his chin.

Whatever that meant.

He was slowly learning to trust, and strangely enough, he trusted her master most of all. Well, he said that he'd "never murder him in his sleep" which, she supposed, was close enough to trust for the daedrat. He said he took his oath to her most seriously, and his devotion to her as her "friend" hadn't wavered one iota, even if his ideas on what it meant to be a friend was slowly changing as he learned that murdering and maiming people just for disagreeing with you was not considered to be acceptable behaviour as her friend.

It did make her wonder if he had ever had a true friend, and if he had, what kind of friend did he have before her?

The thought was a wee bit disturbing, so she tried not to think too hard on it, especially when he was being super cuddly at night and on his very best behaviour.

He seemed super happy about her transformation into a "superior winged form" even if her tail didn't have a smiting spade that could take out a solid brick wall. He'd boggled that he'd been able to revert into his ash titan form when coming to her defence, but ever since that moment, he'd stubbornly remained a daedrat. It made her wonder just what had triggered the unexpected change.

Hermione stared at the man that was going from zone to zone in the DoM, trying to see what Arox was telling her about.

Her ears flicked, and she listened to the conversations.

Always asking questions but never giving information. He'd hint, letting the person assume he was answering.

He'd talk to specific people—people who seemed all too at ease at "filling him in" on what was going on in their area. Then, he'd claim he had to tend to something somewhere else and leave—

Hermione's ears flicked. Being able to hear so well felt a bit like cheating. She remembered that Hogwarts students used to believe her master was a "dungeon bat" because he could hear even their quietest whispers in his classroom, but she actually could hear whispers from across the arboretum. She wondered what he could hear now—

Students whispering amongst themselves from three classrooms over?

No one would ever be safe.

So, was this man she was watching just a social adept who simply liked talking to lots of people, or was Arox correct that he was a bit too normal?

A bit too seemingly insignificant?

Everyone in the DoM tended to have a bit of something about them that made them different from the others. Not all of them were as larger than life as was Master Manfred Morgan, but—

Hermione blinked.

Most people and families lived within the DoM. It was a close-knit group of people that both worked and lived together, protected each other, and lived with the myriad secrets that were the very lifeblood of the DoM.

But this man—

She sniffed experimentally.

He smelled strongly of things only found in the outside world much like one of the Unspeakables that came back from a mission in the outside world, but he wasn't an Unspeakable. He didn't wear the distinctive white robes and mask or even the protective gauntlets.

Maybe Arox was right.

A flutter of warmth surrounded her as her master hooked his foot claws into the stonework and dangled beside her.

Hermione squeaked with relief and snuggled into his side, tucking herself into his warm wing and fur.

"What has your thoughts swimming inside your head so fiercely, apprentice?" Snape rumbled. "It's not really like you to be late to a library date."

Hermione tucked her head. "I'm so sorry, Master," she apologised. "Arox and I were people watching, and he told me there was a man who seemed a bit too normal."

Severus's brows knit together, his muzzle wrinkling. "How so?"

"He smells of the topside world, but he visits all of the high security areas. He talks to specific people, but when asked questions he immediately leaves on business only to go to another secure area and ask even more questions."

Snape's fur rippled as he tilted his head, ears swivelling.

"He smells of Hogwarts, sir," Hermione said quietly. "It lingers on his shoes. The unique soil blend from the Hogwarts greenhouses and the custom fertiliser you made for Professor Sprout."

Hermione remained quiet and still against her master's side, knowing that when he was thinking hard it was best not to interrupt him.

Severus pulled his wing around her. "Cling to me, apprentice. There is somewhere we must go."

Hermione hooked her claws into her master's hide and clamped her mouth tightly on the special fold of skin under his wing instinctively.

Severus dropped down from his perch, his body free-falling as his wings snapped open. He glided for a few seconds and tensed.

CRACK!

They disappeared together.


Famed Auror Alastor Moody Apprehends Death Eater Spy Hidden in the Ministry of Magic!

In a shocking and unprecedented raid at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, secret Death Eater Augustus Rookwood was discovered hiding under the guise of a Ministry official overseeing the Dementors searching for Sirius Black, the infamous murderer of James and Lily Potter, Peter Pettigrew, and a score of random Muggles, who escaped Azkaban earlier this year. Rookwood was found passing classified information to the Ministry executioner, Walden Macnair, in one of the Hogwarts' greenhouses.

Rookwood, who was there under the influence of Polyjuice potion to meet with Macnair in the guise of Argus Filch, had infiltrated the Department of Mysteries and used his previous knowledge as an Unspeakable to infiltrate and continue spying for You Know Who.

Mr Filch was later found severely beaten and bound in his private rooms with the word "Squib" carved into his chest with a cursed knife. He had been Obliviated of all memories of the previous day and so was unable to recall who had attacked him or why. Filch was then transferred to St Mungo's for treatment of the cursed wounds on his person.

Thanks to a timely tip-off from a concerned citizen, Auror Alastor Moody subsequently apprehended Rookwood and Macnair, exposed them both as Death Eaters by their distinctive skull and serpent tattoos, and sent them before the Wizengamot to be put on trial for their criminal activities. They were convicted unanimously for crimes against the Wizarding World as well as the vicious assault of Mr Argus Filch, the Hogwarts caretaker.

The headmaster of Hogwarts, Albus Dumbledore, is currently cooperating with Aurors as they work on improving school security to better protect both staff and students from any possible future infiltrations.


Demands From Alarmed Parents Force Ministry Aurors to Work Overtime at Hogwarts

Having recently ousted two Death Eaters lurking within the castle and grounds of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, parents have forced Headmaster Dumbledore to permit an in-depth sweep of the school for other possible hidden dangers. Fears that the Death Eaters Rookwood and Macnair may have left traps, Dark artefacts, or other such hazards hidden for innocent children to unwittingly stumble across have brought classes to an abrupt halt with no one permitted to enter or leave the castle until the sweeps are completed.


Supposed Murder Victim and Illegal Animagus Peter Pettigrew Discovered Hiding as Boy's Rat Familiar, Had Lived Amongst Gullible Wizarding Family For Years!

Peter Pettigrew, believed to have been murdered more than a decade ago, has been discovered to be very much alive! Auror teams recently swept Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry with a vast array of spells to determine the presence of possible hidden Dark artefacts, concealment charms, and even Animagus detection webs.

The discovery of Peter Pettigrew alive and well casts considerable doubt upon the case of Sirius Black who had supposedly murdered thirteen Muggles and his school friends James and Lily Potter ( as well as Mr Pettigrew) near the end of the Wizarding War. Sirius Black's case has been reopened despite his escape from Azkaban and is now being re-investigated in the light of this new evidence.

The matron of the Wizarding family whose son had the Animagus rat familiar in his possession had been amongst the loudest voices demanding an immediate security check of Hogwarts. The family in question is now under scrutiny to determine exactly why their child was permitted to bring a rat familiar to Hogwarts in the first place as the student supply list states specifically that students are only permitted to bring a Hogwarts-approved owl, cat, or toad to school with them.

On an unrelated note, a cursed relic was found hidden in a room that can move at will around the castle. The room, we learned, has long been called the "Come and Go Room" by the Hogwarts house elves. Said relic was immediately removed from the castle and destroyed via Fiendfyre as per the disposal of dangerous objects protocol.


Amelia shook her head as she looked from the huge crate of fresh mangoes to observe their own cloud of dragonbats all dangling from their perches, their muzzles stuffed full of succulent fruity goodness. On a nearby table, one daedrat was helping himself to a large tropical fruit with a three-headed hound sprawled on the floor chewing on an enormous meaty bone that was shared between all three of its heads. A certain hungry Lethifold was busy tucking into an enormous ham shank that was obviously his alone.

"I take it the reward for your tips meets with your approval," Amelia said dryly.

The chorus of happy squeaks and avid munching seemed to be her answer.

Manfred unfolded one wing and drew Amelia up to him. "You could join us, oh lovely Head Boss of Us."

Amelia flushed beetroot red as Manfred's winged embrace washed over her with both his heat and intrinsic magic.

"I-I do not dangle, Manfred," Amelia protested feebly.

The dragonbat's warm breath tickled her cheek. "You could," he rumbled. "If you truly wanted to."

He exhaled a soft cloud of misty vapour that smelt of mingled pomegranates and mangoes.

Amelia grimaced. "I—it wouldn't be—"

"Tell me to put you down, love, and I will," Manfred purred.

"I—" Amelia protested faintly.

"I have waited a very long time for you, my love," Manfred rumbled. "Will you continue to resist such perfection when all this could be yours?"

Manfred rumbled deeply. "Go ahead. Tell me to put you down."

Amelia's jaw worked silently.

"Hrm?" Manfred purred.

"Gods, don't let go," Amelia groaned softly.

Manfred's answering smile was all fang and utterly feral. "Now that is a good choice." He pulled her against him with a croon and a wrap of leathery, warm wings.

Severus turned his body resolutely in the other direction, keeping his wings around his apprentice as he shielded her from the sight of the blissfully dangling pair of impromptu but possibly premeditated canoodlers as he swiftly cast a nonverbal silencing charm around himself and his apprentice.

"Just as bad as the Astronomy tower at Hogwarts," Severus muttered to himself as he stuffed another juicy mango into his still hungry apprentice's waiting maw.

Arox slowly peered upward from the dragonfruit he had been happily mauling, ears twitching. "Oh Dibella, yet another one in the making," he moaned. "Master said they were supposed to be very rare, but I'm thinking they aren't nearly as rare as they were a month ago."

He munched on the dragonfruit as noisily as possible to give his canoodling neighbours some much-desired privacy and himself a tasty reward for a job well done.

"Maybe tomorrow Master will permit me to mutilate the spy personally," he mused. "I do so love mutilation and bloodshed."

The daedrat chittered happily to himself with thoughts of glorious mayhem, burrowing his head into his dragonfruit prize with great enthusiasm.


End of Chapter 3


A/N: I hope you enjoyed the mischievous antics of chapter 3.

Manfred finally got his witch! Hee hee hee.

Thank Dragon and the Rose for staying up past her expiry pumpkin hour to beta this chapter.