So, finally there is a new chapter! I am so happy with all the reviews I received and wouldn't want to break my promise. Usual disclaimer applies, have fun =)


Hermione cursed again – refraining from clasping her hand over her mouth. She needed to get used to the language among the students and cursing was included, of course when one was in class, crude language would not make her jump far but it would when she was conversing with other students.

Two weeks into the school-year found her already overtaxing herself… at least that's what it was rationally, emotionally Hermione knew that she had to succeed with this charm. It was a Glamour and it would save her hind if she could cast it correctly.

Over the last week, her colleagues, especially two of them, had started picking on her for her girlish features. Hermione was not very popular anyways seeing as already she dived into every book that she could reach and that would be lent to her from the library – but if even the psychically less endowed could see that she steered towards being a woman, she had to change something about her appearance. And a Glamour would do just that.

Hermione knew exactly how she would have to change her features: give her jaw just the slightest square to it, narrow her eyes just slightly and square her shoulders just slightly. It was her luck that she had a narrow waist anyways – now – and that she was not very… voluptuous. There was one major thing that she'd need to change though… and that would be her biggest problem – she would need to be able to use the gents… without repercussions.

And it was exactly this particular piece of her body that made it complicated for her. There weren't any hints of breasts so she wouldn't have to worry about that – yet – but her sex was a dead give-away. Especially if she would be cornered and show-cased like one of her colleagues had been just earlier that week.

Poor Neville Longbottom had been dangling in the air for half an hour straight, fighting to keep his robes over his knees to hinder passer-byes from getting a look of his under things.

Of course it had been a barbaric act, but to Hermione it had been an eye-opener. Wizards were not always kind people and she would need to look out, the older they got, the nastier they could get and she was already a target. Aside from the Glamour she would need to learn a lot of other things as well in order to be able to defend herself should the time come when students would try the same trick on her.

That and she needed to know how to get herself out of such situations if no one was around.

Now however, she needed the perfect replica of the… male sexual organ that would fit an eleven-year-old boy. After a bit of pondering, she realized that her precise problem was that she had no idea just what such a thing looked like. Anatomy had never been a part of her biology classes, would it not have been for her natural curiosity, her parents would have still been successfully feeding her the tale of the stork who brought the babies.

She was aware where a man put his in order for a woman to conceive… what she didn't know was just what 'his' looked like. Then again, she wasn't at an all males boarding school for nothing, wasn't she?


Shocked she exited the toilets, walking down the corridors white as a ghost – that had to have been the most disturbing scene she had ever witnessed in her eleven years. Not even watching her mother getting all loud with her hand beneath her skirt had been as disturbing as this.

Of course it had been the perfect opportunity to finally get a glimpse of the last piece of male anatomy that she lacked… or that her Glamour lacked, but Jesus, research certainly had its price. Was it even supposed to fit down the throat of another male?

Ugh! She didn't even want to think about it anymore. Regaining her composure, she jogged down the hallway, careful not to be detected by a teacher and sneaked into the next available bathroom, locking it behind her.

Three days after she had cast her first Glamour she looked much better, much more boyish, she had to admit it. And she became a lot more efficient with it each passing day. Now as she lifted her robes and cast the charm again, she watched as instead of her own, familiar, sex the other part appeared.

It took some time getting used to seeing it, where she had been used to the folds there, to nothing really visible, but still knowing that it had been there, now hung a small, transformed penis.

Overall, though, she had to admit that she had done a fairly decent job about it; it did not have a strange colour, nor was it two-dimensional and all in all she could be quite proud of herself, now to hold all those different Glamours over her body, she'd need a bit more concentration and discipline. And she needed it from now on – for her survival.


Minerva McGonagall watched as her sorrow-cub, Hermes Granger, entered the Great Hall for dinner that evening.

As usually, the young boy carried a book around with him, clearly intent on swallowing its letters along with his dinner. He sat away from the rest of Gryffindor house, which unnerved Minerva, for Gryffindor was known for its loyalty within the house and for the open-mindedness. But Hermes Granger just did not seem to fit in.

Somehow she still doubted that the Sorting Hat had made the right decision to put the studious, young man into this particular house – she was pretty much convinced that Ravenclaw would have been a better choice. But no, the Hat had spoken, and it had said Gryffindor.

In front of the curly-haired boy appeared a plate that was quickly filled with a steak, potatoes and salad, before he started to eat, simultaneously reading another book. It was a new one, of that Minerva was convinced – he seemed to practically soak up all information like a sponge.

Next to her, Severus followed her gaze and chuckled. "Defensive spells is light reading tonight, Minerva. I fear you have a Ravenclaw in your rows."

The woman sighed and shook her head. "I do not understand, Mister Snape. The Sorting Hat should have put him into another house – he isn't even conversing with the rest of the Gryffindors, isn't even making an effort. And... even if I know it's bad sport to talk bad, but he didn't look very brave when he walked up the dais. Nothing like... say Seamus Finnigan."

Severus snorted and chewed thoughtfully on his steak, before swallowing it. "That might be so, Minerva, but trust me when I say that young Mister Granger collects all the points for your house that the rest of your cubs so carelessly throw away."

"Safe, of course, for potions."

The dour man next to her smirked self-satisfied as he took a sip from his tea, before returning his attention to his meal. "You need to understand, Minerva, that it is a fine art." She listened on. "But I admit that the young Mister does show some potential, if he continues this way, of course."

Minerva nodded wordlessly, staring at the young man still. He had surprisingly long hair for the boys of his age, but as Albus had told her, he was an orphan, which might be a reason for the long hair. At least, she figured, he kept it out of his face with a leather string.

"If his hair was a little reddish and he wouldn't keep his nose in a book, one would say he were a Weasley."

Severus dignified that annotation with a snort and Minerva smirked at the man. She would never be able to teach other than theoretically and that was already something, but Severus was a gentleman and as such he never rubbed the social differences under her nose whenever she talked to him. It was easy to banter with him, for he enjoyed wit and even within the esteemed staff that was sometimes hard to find.

As Transfiguration Teacher, she enjoyed guiding her students towards new realizations; she enjoyed, mostly, the creative aspect of her work as a teacher, for creativity surely was required. Each student learned differently and as a teacher, and a woman, it was her duty to make them understand to the best of her abilities. Until now not one student had failed her.

But Mister Granger was something else.

Professor Flitwick had reported to her that Mister Granger had been the only one to float the feather at his first try, Pomona had jovially told stories of finally one student who seemed interested in the subject, Professor Quirrell, silent as he may be, had told her that her cub seemed to be exceptionally apt with his longer-than-usual-wand and now even Mister Snape had admitted that the young man had potential.

Even she, herself, had witnessed with how much ease the young boy had transformed his yellow lemon drop into a gray-black-white Peppermint-Humbug. It had been perfect in shape, colour and consistency and had of course won Gryffindor ten points.

Minerva McGonagall was aware though that great power and knowledge could lead to many dark roads as well. Mister Granger had swallowed as many books as were possible, next to delivering perfect essays and was practicing spells that he should not even be interested in yet.

As of now, however, she would have to wait and see – there would be a point in his evolution when he would have to decide, and that would be the point when she would interfere, make herself known and decide for him. No way he'd go the same way as Tom, surely not.


She looked perfectly boyish, she convinced herself yet again. There was nothing wrong with her Glamour, everything was in place, she had not jeopardized her mission.

Taking a deep breath, she calmed her inner turmoil and looked into the mirror again. Now for those tears, waving her wand, she Scourgified her face, glad to see it as unblemished as it had been before.

Harold and Ronald were indeed the two dumbest creatures that had ever walked Hogwarts' Halls – Merlin! She wished she was strong enough to rip out their throats or... or tie a knot into their tongues. She wished she was unnaturally big and strong, like Hagrid, the game-keeper was, to make them fear her and leave her alone.

Alas, she was small, tiny even compared to them and her voice was the one thing she had not yet managed to get less girlish. Changing ones voice involved a most tricky charm that Hermione knew she wouldn't be allowed to try, mostly because she wasn't allowed to borrow the book yet – what would help, however, was rhetorical training.

Yes, it was up to her to make sure that she would not get a shrill voice, not even when she screamed (she couldn't scream anymore, she could only yell in order not to be detected) – she needed to control her voice all of the time, keep it low even when she was excited and never, never, never was she allowed to sing anymore.

So, compared to the two 'true men' she really was a tiny shrimp. They had every right to call her that, even though she didn't like being compared to a muggle sea-animal that usually landed on the platters. She couldn't change it as it was however... so, she would be the Book-shrimp for a little while longer. At least until she knew how to shut their mouths with a spell.


Severus observed Mister Granger carefully as the tiny boy was bullied into the seat next to Neville Longbottom. Granger glared – however, instead of directing his glare at a person, he decided to glare at the innocent wooden surface of his working desk.

It was obvious that, due to his stature as well as his bookish nature, Granger was a welcome target for anyone who was taller than he was, and really, being taller than The Book-Shrimp was not hard – he truly was small.

Curiously enough, the boy had not yet fought his bullies, and had instead delved even deeper into the wonders of the Hogwarts Library and more often than not Severus detected him with a Spell Book, writing down words and wand-movements. One of these days either Potter or Weasley would find themselves with a major headache from one of the hexes that Granger was sure to write down.

"Silence." He did not even need to say it loud – students were so afraid of him that they heeded to his every command, it was a pleasure, really.

As he stood up and started his lesson, he realized that Granger stared at him, following his movements through the classroom. He was not glaring at him, but certainly some of his childish animosity was directed at his person. Severus sneered – he'd get the shrimp back.

"Get to work."

And to work they got. Longbottom was a lost cause, Severus was aware of that – there had not been one potion that was even acceptable in his opinion, everything was messed up and useless if the boy handed it in.

Sitting down on his desk in front, he let his eyes wander over the working students until he settled his glare on the first row, where Potter and Weasley worked on their respective potions to his left, while to his right Granger and Longbottom worked on the concoctions.

"Stop."

It had been a whisper, barely even, but Severus' attuned ears had immediately caught it and if he was not completely mistaken, it had been Granger's voice. Sliding his eyes under half-closed lids in his directions, he caught him making a few hand-signs to Neville, who nodded in return and went back to his potion, changing the ingredient in the last moment.

Severus sneered – so Granger was helping Longbottom, huh?

"Ten points from Gryffindor, Mister Granger, if you help Mister Longbottom again it will be the double. The third time it will be thirty points. I believe the system is clear, are my words?"

Shocked the young boy nodded, looking at him with big eyes – Severus sneered. "I said, Mister Granger, are my words clear?"

"Yes, sir."

He lost Gryffindor more than those ten points in the end, but Severus had to admit that Longbottom's potion was acceptable for the first time since school-start. Granger handed in his own potion, brewed to perfection that many of his third-years couldn't display – Severus said nothing. Any praise would encourage the idiot to continue his aiding of Longbottom, any reprimand would be too much.

But Granger did not seem to care; he deposited his potion and went back to his working-bench. Severus didn't look for one moment, inspecting his potion and when he looked back up, the station was as clean as it had been in the beginning and Granger was putting away the ingredients back into the store-room.

Severus kept the observation to himself, as well as his reaction. No student could clean a work-bench that quickly – no first-year student anyways, starting their third-year students learned the Scourgify and cleaning would be done with a wand. Could it be that possibly this young man had already learned the simple spell?


So, mystery of how will Hermione stay undetected is solved! I know that a glamour is said to be a hard piece of work, but if there are two-year-olds who can score every basket they target then there surely can be a talented young witch learning a spell like that, plus if your life depends on something, you always put more effort in it (and for Hermione, school is life we know that)

Thank you worrywart, dia, Pellaeonthewingedlion, TequilaNervous and the four anonymous guests for the reviews and of course thank you for the follows I do really appreciate it =)