Amato Animo Animato Animagus
There shouldn't have been a reason that she couldn't do this. Admittedly, she had never been great with the emotional side of magic. The patronus, flying, divination, it all came down to accessing emotions and connecting with magic. It was instinctual, not intellectual unfortunately. But she was skilled in both potions and transfiguration, had done all her homework and knew exactly what to expect. Except which creature she was to become.
Of course, the animal form was never selected by the wizard, rather determined by their personality and inner traits. However, wizards attempting to change were to research what each animal represented and theorize which could be applied to them. After evaluating her defining characteristics, she came up with possibilities.
She didn't expect to be anything cute and fluffy, though she knew there was a strong possibility she'd turn into an otter. Animagus forms did not always take the same form as a patronus, but it was fairly common—more so when someone becomes an animagus before learning the complex charm. She didn't think it was likely though. As much as she adored her joyful otter floating gracefully around her, she almost expected his form to change eventually; sooner if not later.
The instructions warned the wizard to not fear the image once displayed in their mind. Flinching at the sight of a lion or bear would only be natural, so Hermione practiced remaining calm in the face of a large animal. Fortunately, she already had much practice facing horrific beasts.
Amato Animo Animato Animagus
It was nearly impossible at first to not suck on the mandrake leaf, which was terribly bitter. For an entire month, full moon to full moon, that leaf had resided in her mouth. That was part of the reason she couldn't sleep well—the subconscious fear of swallowing it, choking and consequently dying, or worse, needing to start over again.
Taking it out and shoving it into the small crystal phial that had been hanging outside in the moonlight had been disgusting. She had to wrap a strand of her hair around the saliva-soaked leaf, trying to keep it from falling apart in her hands while touching it with nothing else.
Amato Animo Animato Animagus
Every morning for seven days straight, she had to gather a teaspoon of dew and add it to the phial. It took her ages to find a patch of grass that had never been touched by sunlight nor human feet and was eternally grateful for Luna's guidance.
And if that wasn't hard enough! The chrysalis of a death's-head hawk moth was nearly impossible to locate. The centaurs were of no help as they were incredibly protective of the creatures in the forest. Hagrid was key in accomplishing that step, and thankfully did not realize she had completely avoided his questions about why she was so curious about them. Once the chrysalis was added, she needed to find a dark space where the phial would be left alone. She considered simply placing it in her trunk, but worried that might not be enough isolation. And what if her prat dormmate snuck into her room? Again!
She contemplated where in the dungeons she could leave the phial, but nothing left her confident enough to risk it. Then a wonderful idea came to mind. It was very likely that at this moment, she was one of only two, maybe three people within the castle that even knew about the Room of Requirements. With a very specific objective in mind, Hermione left the phial in the darkness of a small box that rested on a small table in the center of a small room.
Leave it alone. The book was clear to not even think about it, which was nearly impossible. Trying not to think about something only served as reason to think about it more.
Amato Animo Animato Animagus
Every sunrise.
Amato Animo Animato Animagus
She was tired. No, not tired. Not knackered. Exhausted. She was utterly exhausted. Waking up so early every day to watch the sunrise from the astronomy tower. She placed the tip of her wand to her heart and repeated.
Amato Animo Animato Animagus
Every sunset.
Amato Animo Animato Animagus
Sneaking away at the end of dinner, rushing up the astronomy tower.
Amato Animo Animato Animagus
She felt it! The second heartbeat.
Amato Animo Animato Animagus
Nearly five weeks later, in the middle of the night, Hermione was awoken by the loud clap of thunder. Finally! Finally, finally. There was a storm. Finally, she kept thinking as she threw on her robe and grabbed her wand. Finally, looking out her window, she was overwhelmed with relief. If all went well, she would have accomplished her goal and she could stop stressing. About this one thing, at least.
She dashed to the Room of Requirement. Her heart was racing. So much could have gone wrong despite taking every precaution.
She threw the door open and spotted the small table in the middle of the small room with a small box. Cautiously, fearfully, she lifted the lid to the small box. The phial was now full of a blood-red liquid.
For a moment, she considered staying where she was, but didn't want to be trapped in the room because the door wasn't able to stay open of its own accord. She moved to an old classroom on the same floor where she could be alone and have enough room to transform, but also leave the door ajar. It was the middle of the night, so she didn't have to worry about anyone walking in on her.
Amato Animo Animato Animagus
Placing the tip of her wand to her heart, hopefully for the last time, she repeated the words.
"Amato Animo Animato Animagus!"
She downed the potion and instantly was overwhelmed by intense pain. Comparable to the Cruciatus Curse in feeling, though thankfully not in strength. She doubled over and cried out as the fiendfyre coursed through her veins, reworking her DNA.
Then she felt it. So strongly that she could almost hear it. Another heartbeat. Still her own, yet different.
An image came to mind.
Brown fur. Small.
She needed to remember this image, otherwise she would have difficulty turning back when she wanted to. On all fours—which in and of itself was strange—Hermione wandered around the classroom, getting a sense of her new form. Lithe, strong… furry, though probably not inherently cuddly. She was warm despite the cool, night air, and through the stillness she could hear several distinct creatures all the way outside of the castle.
Half an hour later, ready to be human again, Hermione trotted over to her robe and wand.
'Visualize your human self' she recalled from the directions. She saw herself as she had looked last night—blushy hair, dark bags under her eyes, but very much human. She kept that image in her head, continually expanding upon the details, and yet, nothing happened.
After several failed attempts, panic set in.
There was nothing to fear. No reason to worry. The texts said that this could happen. That she could have a difficult time shifting back. Perhaps she simply needed some support, someone to walk her through the process. She simply needed to find Professor McGonagall. Surely, the woman would recognize this creature as Hermione Granger.
Right?
Who wouldn't recognize a brown wolf wandering the corridor as their Head Girl?
She made it all the way to the griffin guarding the entrance to the headmistress' office, and naturally, it stood stone still. It wasn't as though the statue would allow her to ascend without vocalizing the password, which she obviously could not in her current state. This meant she wouldn't be able to see the woman until morning. In only a few hours, everyone would be gathering in the Great Hall for breakfast, and with any luck, Hermione could intercept the Headmistress on her way down.
Perhaps having her wand with her would help being recognized. As she headed back toward the classroom where she hid her wand, she realized it was so early in the morning, that sleeping outside in the corridor was not worth the inconvenience and thus decided to head back to her dorms and see if there was a way of getting back inside. If not, she would head up to the library and curl up on one of the more cushioned chairs.
"Well, hello." Fuck. Fuckity fuck. "What have we here?" He smiled at her, but there was no way he recognized her. She had been trying to comfort herself earlier, fool herself into thinking that this situation wouldn't be as bad as it obviously was. The only person she confidently expected to recognize her was Luna, then to some degree Harry, Ginny and McGonagall, but by no means did she think Malfoy would.
She growled as his arms wrapped around her small form to lift her. "Hey, now! None of that. Don't make me stun you." The threat was enough for her to acquiesce. She was, after all, a wolf; it was only reasonable that he did stun her. In fact, it was actually stupid of him to pick her up and carry her to… their dorms!
Her heart leapt inside of her chest. What luck! She realized this would likely be the only way she'd get into the chamber, though it would be unlikely that he'd leave her alone.
"Merlin, she would kill me for having a pet, I think. At least one that could eat her wretched cat."
Obviously, you arse!
"Maybe I should call you Granger. I think it's quite perfect. Judgemental eyes. Unruly fur. Yea, she gives me that look too, anytime I'm being a prat. Which is quite often to tell you the truth, but what else am I to do?" She tried hopping off when he took a seat on their sofa, but his arms were wrapped securely around her. "She doesn't look at me otherwise. She definitely wouldn't talk to me. Besides, she is so bloody adorable when she gets mad."
This piqued her interest. It was so foreign to hear him say anything of the sort—and it distracted her from how gloriously he was scratching her behind the ears.
"I don't even really disagree with the spew nonsense. Not completely, at least, I just like getting her riled up. I should stop though. My self-control will falter one of these days and I won't be able to stop myself from snogging her silly. Or I'll go a little too far and she'll hex me. Or punch me again," he laughed as if he found the vision heartwarming "Or I'll snog her then she'll hex me. Sounds about right. Totally worth it though, don't you think? I think so."
Hermione's ears perked up and her head tilted inquisitively. "You don't get it. You haven't met her yet."
He scooted down so that his back was flat against the cushions and Hermione was spread across his chest. "And sweet Salazar, that fucking body! Don't tell her I said this, but uuugh-" His eyes rolled back and he moaned. "I wank myself to sleep every night thinking of that arse." She growled, but he barely stiffened. "Like I said, wait until you see her. She's perfect."
Hermione stopped growling. She didn't like him objectifying her, but there was something in the way he called her 'perfect'. It wasn't that he called her 'perfect', as she did not often approve of that word used so loosely in most contexts, but rather how he said it. "And I don't even mean physically. No, she's bloody brilliant. Smart, obviously, but it's more than that. She's so intuitive and insightful. I mean, wildly unobservant. I wouldn't call her obtuse," he laughed at first, but then it faded. "Rather… blinded by hatred, I suppose. I get it." He sounded forlorn.
Hermione almost felt bad, if that was truly how he thought she saw him. She didn't hate him. She wasn't his biggest fan by any means, but she didn't hate him. He was smart, though he hid it well; funny, though he used his sharp tongue more cruelly than she thought necessary; and responsible, when he chose to act accordingly.
His fingers played with her fur and she started to relax more, curl into his touch. Eventually he fell asleep, and she was so tired that she, too, joined him.
She started to stir.
"Few more minutes, Granger." He turned them so she was pinned between his body and the back of the couch.
Oh right, she thought. He named the wolf Granger. Like a prat.
"Malfoy," she whispered cautiously. She expected to see shock, abhorrence, anything. He mumbled something and nestled his face back into her hair. "Why are you not confused by what's happening right now?"
"What do you mean?"
"You fell asleep with a wolf, but woke up with me. How is that not confusing?"
He still hadn't withdrawn himself from her curls. "I knew it was you."
"You did not!"
He shushed her. "Not so loud, witch. I'm still sleepy." He gripped her tighter and she felt her stomach twist in knots.
"You did not," she repeated more quietly, trying her best to ignore the sensation of his hands around her waist.
"You think I wouldn't recognize you? Granger, we could be dropped into any time, any universe, occupy any body, and I would know it was you."
"How?"
He finally pulled back and looked at her deeply. Openly. "Because I know you. I know your eyes. I know your smile, even if it wasn't on these lips. I might not know everything about you, but I know you, witch." The incredulous look he received was very telling. "Honestly, you think I cuddle with random animals? I don't even like animals. Why on earth would I cuddle with a potentially feral wolf?"
"So everything you said, you were messing with me?" She pushed against his chest, trying—and failing—to distance herself from him. "You knew it was me, so you thought it would be funny to let me think you like me?"
"Does it feel like I was messing with you?" The way his hands were gripping her sides, the way his eyes held her gaze, certainly did not feel like he was messing with her. "I took advantage of you not being able to talk back for once, but I wasn't lying."
"I don't know how I'm supposed to believe that."
He leaned forward, hesitated for only a second… then kissed her. It was chaste at first, almost cautious. When she didn't push him away, he pressed deeper. He lifted himself up and leaned over her body, pulling her now fully beneath his body. He grabbed her thigh and wrapped her leg around his waist, thrusting into her lightly while squeezing her bum.
"Draco!" she squealed at the sudden onslaught of physical attention. She meant to stop him, but hearing his name sparked something inside of him and he grew more passionate. In the most crude terms, he was basically humping her through his lounge shorts.
"Fuck, Granger. You have no idea," he panted as his lips trailed across her skin, his teeth occasionally nipping at her neck. "No fucking idea how much I want you." His fingers opened the first two buttons of her sleep shirt, which was probably open one too many as it were.
"Stop. Malfoy! Please, please stop." Part of her hadn't expected him to listen when she asked him to stop. But there he was, looking down at her with concern. He quickly extracted himself and stared at her as she remained motionless.
"I'm s- I didn't mean to scare you." He pulled her up into a seated position and knelt on the floor between her feet. "Tell me you want me," he pleaded while he reached for her shirt again. "Tell me we can try, please." She thought he was going to continue unbuttoning her shirt, but to her immense surprise, he was rebuttoning them for her. He was covering her up while begging her to give him a chance, and it was the sexiest thing she had ever experienced. "I know I can be a prat, but I promise, I promise I will be so good to you. Please." He was leaning close to her face again. She could see nothing by honesty. "One chance, Hermione. That's all I ask."
…
"One chance."